The NYC ‘Streateries’ Diary
Restaurant owners, patrons and locals weigh in on the pandemic-induced outdoor dining takeover in New York City
Read the stories: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
They are not New York. Ask anyone using the outdoor dining structures that now colonize the city’s sidewalks and parking spaces. It “feels like Paris,” they will say, or it gives “European vibes.” Some may even call them “New-Orleansy.”
“It’s time for a new tradition,” Mayor Bill de Blasio declared back in September 2020, three months after he first permitted restaurants to occupy nearby parking spots and sidewalks. Since then, “streateries” have turned the city inside out, helping countless restauranteurs keep their businesses afloat and redesigning New York in the process.
The structures were a response to an economic crisis; roughly 1,000 restaurants closed permanently in the city during the first year of Covid. As such, they were expected to be temporary — the initial order gave restaurant owners just three weeks to cobble their outdoor spaces, and the earliest versions involved many traffic cones and plywood. But last month, as city restaurants began requiring proof of vaccination for indoor diners, Mayor de Blasio announced plans to allow the structures to remain year-round, to the approval of many and the concerns of some.
“Outdoor dining has basically become indoor dining in New York,” said Mara Cohen, a graduate student in arts administration who was interviewed while walking across James Walker Park.
Over the next few months, the city will conduct public outreach to create guidelines allowing the permanent extension of the Open Restaurants plan — which is the official program name for the structures on streets and sidewalks. As early as January of 2022, restaurants can apply for extended permits based on new rules, including zoning laws, roadway precautions, and stipulations about snow removal and tree maintenance.
The new guidelines will govern around 11,950 restaurant structures, most of which are now far more sophisticated than those first erected 18 months ago.
Some outdoor extensions share ambiance and décor with their indoor counterparts, surrounded by lush plants, divided by plush curtains, shaped like igloos or trailers or greenhouses. Many have heaters for the cold months, fans for the warmer ones, piped-in music, twinkling lights, even chandeliers. On some blocks, there seems to be a competition for the most elaborate huts.
Time has also clarified the unintended consequences of plopping diners where parking spots used to be, and the new regulations will also have to address those problems. In Queens, for instance, rodent complaints to 311 increased by 30 percent since 2020, as pests were drawn to pungent trash cans which sit right near the outdoor tables. There have also been dozens of reports of cars, bicycles, and motorcycles colliding with the new structures throughout the city, resulting in at least one death. Some of the build-outs have caught fire. Others are regularly flooded by rain. When Hurricane Ida blew through, structures were destroyed, then rebuilt with the help of community members.
They’ve adapted, been pummeled, and survived. In other words, they have become very much New York.
Together the structures tell a story of one city working to reclaim the energy of urban life lost in 2020.
This project, produced by graduate students at Columbia Journalism School, chronicles 13 accounts of that story — from historic landmarks, newly opened bistros, dim sum hot spots to brunch havens, high-end oases, and even a brief attempt to serve coffee on a bus. They paint a portrait of a reinvention, one table at a time.
