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A new photo book celebrates the very Jewish cafeteria culture of a vanished New York
(New York Jewish Week) – Back in 1975, Marcia Bricker Halperin had just graduated from Brooklyn College with the dream of becoming a professional photographer when she stepped into the Flatbush outpost of Dubrow’s, a cafeteria-style restaurant, for a warm cup of coffee.
It was there that inspiration hit. “I was wonderstruck,” Halperin writes in the introduction to her new book of photographs, “Kibbitz & Nosh: When We All Met at Dubrow’s Cafeteria,” describing the “cavernous” space with mirrored walls and a mosaic fountain. “It was the most idiosyncratic room I had ever seen.”
“I sensed it was a vanishing world on its last legs, and that impelled me to document it,” she continues. “On many visits, the tables were empty, sans a painterly still life of condiment bottles and jars in the morning light. I also perceived cafeterias as places that embodied a secular Jewish culture, something that was of great interest to me.”
“I attended a lecture by Isaac Bashevis Singer, who was billed as an “Outstanding Anglo -Yiddish” author, at the Brooklyn Jewish Center on Eastern Parkway in Crown Heights,” Bricker Halperin writes in the introduction. “I adored his short stories, many of which were set in cafeterias, and I regret never finding the nerve that day to tell him about my own cafeterianiks.” (Marcia Bricker Halperin)
Halperin was prescient: She started photographing these once-ubiquitous eateries one decade before the final Dubrow’s location in the Garment District would close in 1985. The chain’s first location was founded in 1929 on the Lower East Side by Benjamin Dubrow, a Jewish immigrant from Minsk. By the mid-twentieth century, the family-owned company expanded throughout Brooklyn, Manhattan and Miami Beach, with ownership passing to the second generation, and then to the third. In Dubrow’s prime, a stop at one of the cafeterias was practically required for politicians such as John F. Kennedy and Jimmy Carter.
Nearly 50 years after her first visit, Halperin’s new book is a tribute to this now-defunct New York City cafeteria culture and the characters she met during the five years she regularly photographed there. The compelling 152-page book features her original black-and-white photos along with essays from Pulitzer Prize–winning playwright Donald Margulies and Jewish American historian Deborah Dash Moore.
“Although Jews were not the only ones to patronize cafeterias, they preferred them as inexpensive places to hang out to bars, which often attracted an Irish immigrant or working-class clientele,” Moore writes in her essay, titled “See You at Dubrow’s.” “By the 1930s, cafeterias were part of the fabric of Jewish neighborhood life in New York City, a welcome alternative for socializing to cramped apartments, street corners, or candy stores.”
Now living in Park Slope and retired from a career as a special education teacher, Halperin talked with the New York Jewish Week about the city’s lost cafeteria culture and what inspired her to capture it with her camera.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
New York Jewish Week: You took these photos nearly 50 years ago. What made you decide to publish them now?
Marcia Bricker Halperin: In the 1970s, there was such good feedback on the work. I was given a show, I was collected by a few people, I had a photo in The New York Times. People wrote me letters in the mail: “Ms. Bricker, I’m interested in buying one of your photos.” At the time, I was in a project called the CETA artists project, a federally funded arts project in the ’70s where I was paid to be a photographer. It was very much like the [Depression-era] WPA project, but one of the great differences with the CETA project was anything you shot, you owned.
So I continued photographing changing New York during those years — some of it by assignment for nonprofit organizations that I worked with, like the Jewish Museum and an organization in Brighton Beach that was resettling the Soviet Jews that were arriving in the ’70s. They wanted photographs to help both the Soviet Jews understand American life and the old Jewish population in Brighton Beach understand Russian life. What a great opportunity!
I was going to be an artist and I did adjunct teaching and different things to make it work. I kind of fell into teaching high school photography and then, from there, I fell into teaching special education — that took over. Thirty-five years later, I retired from teaching. The day after I retired, I took out my negatives and my photography stuff and bought a scanner and all kinds of printers and things.
So, I was a photographer once upon a time and then taught for many years and, overnight, I became one once again.
A man reads the Forvertz newspaper in Yiddish. (Marcia Bricker Halperin)
How did it feel to see these photos again? Had you developed any of them before?
Yes, I printed quite a few of them then. I worked as a darkroom lab technician, so I had an opportunity in the ’70s to do a lot of silver gelatin prints. I would bring in a thick envelope of the imperfect prints to the cafeteria and at that point, everybody knew me. I gave out portraits to people. If I hadn’t shot them, they would gather around me asking: “Do you have my picture? Did you print it?” Especially the staff — there was a very international cohort of people working there and they all wanted pictures to send home to their families.
After that, the pictures lay fallow for all these years. I protected them and stored them very carefully. When I had the opportunity to come back and put together a sample book, I started looking through the negatives and I said, “Oh, my God, I don’t remember that picture.” It was a time warp to see some of these photos taken in the 1970s. In Manhattan, the ’60s had happened, but Flatbush in Brooklyn was the “Old Country.” It hung onto the past for a while and some women dressed like they were still in the 1950s.
Dubrow’s Cafeteria, Kings’s Highway 1975. The photographer appears in the top left corner. (Marcia Bricker Halperin)
Dubrow’s closed just ten years after you started shooting there. Could you feel at the time that cafeteria culture was ending?
I kept a journal at the time. When I went back 42 years later to look at it, I had written: “One day I’m going to show up here and this is going to be closed.”
There were other cafeterias in Manhattan and the Bronx and they had all closed. I’ve collected like every article ever written about cafeterias, and there’s one from 1973: “Are cafeterias going to be gone?” So it was fairly well known that this was a vanishing kind of establishment in New York. The automats ceased having the little boxes, Burger King bought them out, they tried to modernize and it got pretty sad. Sometimes during the day, the huge cafeteria would be empty and people would say, “This business can’t survive.” So I knew I was photographing in the vein of needing to document the things that are there and will be gone. It was one of the things that propelled me to get out there and photograph.
Today, things are different. There’s food courts and wonderful little coffee places. There are many businesses, especially here in Brooklyn, trying to perpetuate “grandmother foods” and there are restaurants that are serving “reinvented Jewish-style foods.” So there are some continuations, but in terms of the huge, opulent cafeteria spaces — grand professional murals, intricate woodworking, food with a crazy amount of preparation, 300 items, 30 different cakes — no restaurant could possibly survive like that. The only thing that still exists are my photos of them.
Men and women converse around empty tables at Dubrow’s on Kings Highway. (Marcia Bricker Halperin)
What was the Jewish culture of Dubrow’s and Flatbush like at the time?
Growing up, we went to a little old “Conservadox” synagogue. We were the kind of family where my mother kept a kosher kitchen at home, but on Sunday nights we’d go out to the Chinese restaurant. Dubrow’s menu was “Jewish-style” but it was also a place you could go out and have your first shrimp salad sandwich, which became their most popular food. They were famous for shrimp salad!
These cafeterias were all started by Jewish immigrants. But they were democratic for everyone — there was ham on the menu, shrimp. You could choose whether to have just meat or have a meat meal and then have a cream pie for dessert. That was your choice. With cafeteria-style, like religion, you pick and choose what you want and what you want to observe.
When I would go there, all the older people would ask: “Are you Jewish? You don’t look Jewish.” I’d say,“I’m Jewish. I know a few words of Yiddish, my parents speak Yiddish at home.” They would be satisfied with that. There was this sense that it was a club a little bit, it was a Jewish establishment. Not that everybody wasn’t welcome, and everybody socialized with everyone else.
Socializing was a big thing there, not necessarily eating. Many of my pictures are people sitting around — sometimes it’s a coffee cup on the table, most of the time the table is empty. They were there to meet their friends and talk. Some people said it replaced the synagogues. The old men would go to Dubrow’s and have a cup of coffee with their friends in the morning and gossip and talk.
“Kibbitz & Nosh: When We All Met at Dubrow’s Cafeteria” will be published on May 15, 2023. The photos are on exhibit at the Edward Hopper House in Nyack, New York through June 25.
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The Jewish Bund Was Popular — But It Couldn’t Save Lives Like a Jewish State Could
Participants with Israeli flags look at the landmark Birkenau extermination camp gate in Auschwitz Museum – former Nazi German Concentration Camp during the International March of the Living (MOTL) in Oswiencim, Poland on April 14, 2026. Photo by Dominika Zarzycka/Sipa USA via Reuters Connect
If you are a fan of klezmer music, you may be familiar with a catchy up-tempo Yiddish song “Barikadn” (barricades), recorded by the popular band The Klezmatics. The song is about a strike by workers in the Polish city of Łόdź, in which men, women, and children join together to erect barricades in the streets of the city.
Barikadn was popular with the Bund (General Jewish Labour Bund), a secular Marxist Jewish political movement established in 1897 in Vilna (then in the Russian Empire), just two months after the First Zionist Congress was held in Basel, Switzerland.
The Bund was one of the first socialist political movements in Russia. It played an important role during the lead up to the Russian revolution, but disbanded in the early 1920s, in response to pressure from the Communist Party. However, it continued to be an influential Jewish voice in Poland and Lithuania until the outbreak of World War II.
The Bund promoted the use of Yiddish, rather than Hebrew as a Jewish national language. The concept of “doikayt” (Yiddish for “hereness”) was a central feature of Bundist ideology. It discouraged Jewish nationhood (Zionism), advocating instead for Jewish communities to remain dispersed but culturally autonomous and politically engaged within their host countries.
Before the outbreak of World War II, the Bund was the most popular Jewish political force in Poland, with a party membership of close to 100,000. Its members were central to the vibrant secular Yiddish cultural life of pre-war Poland. However, as recorded by Yad Vashem, the Bund suffered the same fate as all the Jews of Poland. Only 1,000 members survived the war.
Today, in the aftermath of October 7, and now the Iran war, the Bund is enjoying something of a revival, as exemplified by Molly Crabapple’s new book Here Where We Live Is Our Country: The Story of the Jewish Bund. The book highlights the universalist hope of Bund ideology, versus the perils associated with following the Zionist plan, including eternal war with Israel’s Arab neighbors and an increasingly chauvinist agenda.
Crabapple’s book has received a number of positive reviews, including one in The Forward and another in The Guardian (“For Leftist Jews the Bund is a Model”). However, one reviewer in Commentary Magazine has pointed out the fatal flaw in the Bundist program. He writes “We’ll never know if the Holocaust would have happened as it happened had there been a State of Israel at the time. Instead, the Holocaust happened during the time of the Bundists. That isn’t to blame them, obviously, for what happened. It is merely to say that Bundism wasn’t a plan for Jewish survival.”
As noted earlier, very few of the Bundists survived the Holocaust, so we don’t really know their views in the aftermath. However, Isaac Deutscher was a prominent Polish-Jewish socialist, writer, and journalist, a biographer of Trotsky.
Before World War II, Deutscher opposed Zionism as economically retrograde and harmful to the cause of international socialism. But after the Holocaust he regretted his pre-war views, saying, “If, instead of arguing against Zionism in the 1920s and 1930s, I had urged European Jews to go to Palestine, I might have helped to save some of the lives that were to be extinguished in Hitler’s gas chambers.”
The Bund wasn’t a plan for Jewish survival. Zionism was, and still is. Unlike other nationalisms, modern Zionism is a survivalist imperative, a rescue mission. In this, it has been remarkably successful; a refuge for Jews from the DP camps of Europe, from the Arab/Muslim world, and from the Former Soviet Union.
Jacob Sivak, a Fellow of the Royal Society of Canada, is a retired professor, University of Waterloo.
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Tidbits: Traces of a ghetto bunker uncovered in Będzin, Poland
Tidbits is a Forverts feature of easy news briefs in Yiddish that you can listen to or read, or both! If you read the article and don’t know a word, just click on it and the translation appears. Listen to the report here:
אַ גרופּע אַרכעאָלאָגן, וואָס האָט געהאַלטן אין מיטן אויסגראָבן אַ בונקער פֿון דער צווייטער וועלט־מלחמה אינעם פּוילישן שטעטל בענדין, האָט אַנטדעקט שפּורן פֿון אַן אונטערערדישן באַהעלטעניש און טונעל, וואָס ייִדן האָבן געניצט קעמפֿנדיק קעגן די דײַטשן אין 1943.
„מיר האָבן אַנטדעקט שטיינערנע טרעפּ, וואָס פֿירן אַרײַן אין אַ באַהעלטעניש אונטער אַן אַמאָליקער געבײַדע,“ האָט די אַרכעאָלאָגישע פֿירמע „וויקאָפּ נאַ פּאָזיאָמיע“ געמאָלדן אויף פֿייסבוק. זיי האָבן אויך אַנטדעקט אַ טונעל, וואָס האָט געדינט ווי אַ זיכער אָרט אונטער ד׳רערד.
די אַרכעאָלאָגן האָבן געזאָגט, אַז זיי האָבן זיך געריכט צו געפֿינען „אַרכעאָלאָגישע עלעמענטן“ אָבער זענען געווען דערשטוינט, וואָס אַלץ האָט זיך אַזוי גוט פֿאַרהיט. אינעם טונעל קען מען נאָך זען די פֿריִערדיקע הילצערנע פּאָדליגע און שפּורן פֿון די ווענט.
דער בונקער איז גלײַך לעבן דעם „הויז פֿון די געטאָ־קעמפֿער“, וואָס געפֿינט זיך הײַנט אויף 24 רוטקאַ־לאַסקיער גאַס. בשעת דער צווייטער וועלט־מלחמה, ווען די נאַציס האָבן פֿאַרטריבן די ייִדן אין געטאָ, איז דער בנין געוואָרן דאָס געהיימע פֿאַרזאַמלונג־אָרט פֿון די ציוניסטישע יוגנט־גרופּעס און דער „ייִדישער קאַמף־אָרגאַניזאַציע“. די מיטגלידער פֿון דער אָרגאַניזאַציע, מיט פֿרומקע פּלאָטניצקאַ בראש, האָבן דורכגעפֿירט אַ ווידערשטאַנד אין אויגוסט 1943, בעת די דײַטשן האָבן אָנגעפֿירט מיט די לעצטע דעפּאָרטאַציעס און מיט דער פֿאַרטיליקונג פֿונעם געטאָ. דרײַ טעג האָבן די ייִדן געקעמפֿט, ביז די דײַטשן האָבן דעם ווידערשטאַנד אײַנגעבראָכן.
אין 2024 האָט די צוקערמאַן גייט פֿונדאַציע געקויפֿט דאָס אייגנס, כּדי דאָרט צו בויען אַן אָנדענק־מוזיי. די פֿונדאַציע איז שוין יאָרן לאַנג אַקטיוו אין בענדין און האַלט דאָרט אויף אַ פּריוואַטע שיל אין אַ טעמעמענט־בנין.
לייענט דעם אַרטיקל אויף ענגליש.
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Netanyahu, IDF condemn Israeli soldier’s bludgeoning of Jesus statue in Lebanon
(JTA) — Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is denouncing an incident in which a soldier bludgeoned a statue of Jesus in southern Lebanon, igniting criticism at a time when some Christians believe Israel discriminates against them.
A photograph of the incident spread widely on Sunday after being shared by a prominent Palestinian journalist, Younis Tirawi. The photograph shows a soldier in an Israel Defense Forces uniform smashing a statue of Jesus, which has fallen from its cross and is lying partially on the ground.
The IDF said it had examined the photograph and determined that it was real. “The IDF views the incident with great severity and emphasizes that the soldier’s conduct is wholly inconsistent with the values expected of its troops,” it said in a statement.
Netanyahu said the photograph had shocked him.
“Yesterday, like the overwhelming majority of Israelis, I was stunned and saddened to learn that an IDF soldier damaged a Catholic religious icon in southern Lebanon. I condemn the act in the strongest terms,” he said in a statement on Monday. “Military authorities are conducting a criminal probe of the matter and will take appropriately harsh disciplinary action against the offender.”
The incident took place in Debel, a Christian village in the region of Bint Jbeil, where Israel said it killed 150 Hezbollah operatives, including a commander, on the day before a ceasefire was imposed last week. A church in Debel posted a picture of the statue when it was intact, along with the line, spoken by Jesus in the New Testament during his crucifixion, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
The incident comes comes as Israel fends off criticism from even its allies that it is discriminating against Christians. Tensions flared last month when the Israel Police, citing wartime safety regulations, blocked top Catholic clergy from holding a Palm Sunday service in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the Old City of Jerusalem, eliciting oblique criticism from the pope. Netanyahu said in response that he had ordered that the clergy be given full access to the church.
In his statement about the statue incident, Netanyahu emphasized that Christians in the Middle East face danger from Islamic fundamentalists, including in Lebanon.
“Israel is the only country in the region that the Christian population and standard of living is growing. Israel is the only place in the Middle East that adheres to freedom of worship for all,” he said. “We express regret for the incident and for any hurt this has caused to believers in Lebanon and around the world.”
The Lebanon incident adds to a number of incidents in which Israeli soldiers have been photographed or filmed desecrating religious objects or sites in areas where they have been fighting, including in Gaza. (The IDF has urged soldiers not to take or share photographs of their activities.) The Israeli army has denounced the incidents, but even those who have resisted the most strident criticisms of Israel say a pattern is adding up.
“The lack of discipline, professional conduct, and antagonizing of Christians in Lebanon and elsewhere is an entirely unnecessary and deeply harmful behavior that will further erode support for Israel and fuel those who believe this is a religious war of conquest,” tweeted Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib, a Palestinian writer and advocate in the United States who has criticized both Hamas and Israel.
The Lebanon incident also comes amid a number of incidents suggesting growing influence by religious Jewish leadership in the IDF. In recent days, soldiers were jailed for barbecuing on their base on Shabbat, when traditional Jewish law prohibits cooking; women soldiers were penalized for wearing immodest clothing to their discharge ceremonies; and the army was accused of barring women from wearing shorts while running in a race associated with the Jerusalem Marathon.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
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