When a borscht hall falls in the East Village, Chowhound-addled gourmands make all kinds of sound. Yet when Park Slope’s long-standing New Prospect Cafe went dark earlier this week, the normally vocal locals barely made a peep. The cozy, eclectic place opened in 1985, bringing a thoughtful menu to a nabe where, at that time, "seasonal American fare" pretty much meant an ice cream truck in the summertime. "It had a super-duper sincere, handwritten-menu homey-ness that I loved," says Death by Chick Lit author Lynn Harris Adelson, a Sloper since 1994. "They were like Park Slope’s Moosewood, only with meat."
We’ve yet to make contact with management to get the whole story, but the founding owners have moved on to slinging their orange-glazed snapper and fennel tomato fondue in Rockland County, and the restaurant’s phone has been mysteriously disconnected. Know more? Is this indeed the death of a neighborhood institution? Intel is welcome in the comments below. —Alec Appelbaum