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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 post A new photo book celebrates the very Jewish cafeteria culture of a vanished New York appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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US Sen. Bill Cassidy Demands Answers From Mamdani on Taxpayer-Funded Anti-Israel Activity
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani holds a press conference at the New York City Office of Emergency Management, as a major winter storm spreads across a large swath of the United States, in Brooklyn, New York City, US, Jan. 25, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Bing Guan
A senior Republican lawmaker in the US Congress is sounding the alarm over actions by New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s administration, arguing that the use of public resources to advance what he describes as a politically charged, anti-Israel agenda risks alienating Jewish residents and may conflict with federal funding requirements.
Sen. Bill Cassidy (R-LA), chair of the Senate Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions (HELP) Committee, on Monday expanded an investigation into whether New York City agencies have improperly incorporated geopolitical advocacy into taxpayer-funded programs. The move reflects growing scrutiny in Washington over how local governments engage with issues related to Israel amid heightened tensions and record levels of antisemitic hate crimes following the conflict in Gaza.
In a new letter to Mamdani, Cassidy said he is concerned that certain city initiatives, particularly within public health programming, may be framing Israel in a way that undermines inclusivity and raises potential civil rights concerns. He pointed to reports of internal discussions and working groups within the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene that examine global conflicts, including Israel’s war against Hamas, through an “oppression” or “equity” lens.
“These taxpayer dollars are meant to improve New Yorkers’ health, not push a far-left agenda that discriminates against Jewish families,” Cassidy said in a statement announcing the letter and expanded probe. “At a time of rising antisemitism, Mamdani is failing Jewish New Yorkers.”
The senator also warned that merging political advocacy with federally supported programs could jeopardize compliance with federal guidelines, potentially putting funding streams at risk. His office has requested documentation and clarification from city officials regarding the scope and purpose of the “Global Oppression and Public Health Working Group” and to turn over all documents disseminated at the meeting sessions.
In February, a cohort of staffers within the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene reportedly formed the group and declared its purpose is to explore how supposed “global oppression” operates and affects health equity and the wellbeing of certain communities in the city. In its initial meeting, which lasted one hour, a presenter explicitly cited the conflict in Gaza as an “ongoing genocide” and framed it along with other forms of alleged oppression as relevant to health outcomes, the New York Post reported.
“We really developed in response to the ongoing genocide in Palestine,” one presenter said, according to video acquired by the Post. “And the working group aims to address the growing interests among the health department staff to learn about current and ongoing global oppression in its many forms and how it influences the advancement of health equity.”
Critics, including City Council leaders, say the working group crossed a line by focusing on international politics and critiques of a foreign government instead of core public health responsibilities like managing diseases, especially on city time with taxpayer-funded time and resources.
“The department’s focus on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the creation of an internal ‘working group’ organized around a particular ethnic or national group underscores the need to ensure that workplace initiatives are administered in a manner that does not leave other employees — in this case, Jewish employees — feeling excluded or marginalized,” Cassidy wrote in his letter.
“Additionally, the question remains as to whether the department will hold similar discussions through either this or separate working groups for other ethnic or national groups affected by global geopolitical conflicts, or whether the department’s sole interest is in denouncing the Israeli-Palestinian conflict to the exclusion of all others,” the senator added. “These circumstances warrant review of whether the agency’s internal activities are being structured in a manner consistent with federal nondiscrimination requirements.”
Cassidy initially announced a probe into the matter in early February but expanded his requests for documentation in this week’s letter. He also noted recent statements by the city’s new health commissioner, Dr. Alister Martin, who said in an interview that the department is “not gonna stop doing that work on equity,” even if the federal government “comes and messes with our money.”
“Statements made by Dr. Martin suggesting that the agency will continue advancing certain equity initiatives despite federal policy changes, warrant careful review of the department’s adherence to federal requirements governing programs supported by federal funds,” Cassidy wrote.
His investigation comes amid ongoing concern over Mamdani’s approach to the Jewish community and antisemitism in New York City,
Mamdani, a far-left democratic socialist and anti-Zionist, is an avid supporter of boycotting all Israeli-tied entities who has been widely accused of promoting antisemitic rhetoric. He has repeatedly accused Israel of “apartheid” and “genocide”; refused to recognize the country’s right to exist as a Jewish state; and refused to explicitly condemn the phrase “globalize the intifada,” which has been associated with calls for violence against Jews and Israelis worldwide.
Leading members of the Jewish community in New York have expressed alarm about Mamdani’s election, fearing what may come in a city already experiencing a surge in antisemitic hate crimes.
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Mamdani voices concerns about synagogue buffer zone bill poised to pass NYC Council
The New York City Council is poised to pass legislation aimed at curbing disruptive protests outside synagogues, as officials weigh Jewish security concerns against free speech protections for pro-Palestinian and progressive activists. Mayor Zohran Mamdani has not taken an official position on the legislation.
The 51-member legislative body is set to vote Thursday on two bills directing the NYPD to develop a plan for protest buffer zones around houses of worship and educational centers. It is part of Council Speaker Julie Menin’s five-point plan to combat antisemitism, as anti-Jewish incidents continue to make up a majority of reported hate crimes in New York City. In recent months, at least two protests outside synagogues featured antisemitic slogans and chants, heightening tensions and drawing condemnation. Some see Menin as a check on the mayor and a potential guardrail against his actions.
The package of bills includes $1.25 million in funding to the Museum of Jewish Heritage for Holocaust education and the creation of a hotline to report antisemitic incidents.
Mamdani allies’ opposition
The buffer zone proposal is facing pushback from allies of Mamdani, a strident Israel critic who faces scrutiny from mainstream Jewish organizations over his response to antisemitism and pro-Palestinian protests. The Democratic Socialists of America and some progressive Jewish groups, as well as free speech advocates, claim the legislation unfairly targets pro-Palestinian protests and said it gives authorities too much discretion in how the rules are enforced.
Mamdani said in January that he ordered his law department and police leadership to review the proposal’s legality. Mamdani told the Forward he would veto it if he determines it’s illegal.
City Hall has not released the findings of the internal review. A Mamdani spokesperson didn’t say whether the mayor would sign the bills if they pass. But he might not need to. The bill has 35 co-sponsors, giving it the veto-proof, two-thirds majority needed to pass the legislation into law without the mayor’s signature.
Mamdani “is keenly aware of the serious concerns regarding these bills’ limiting of New Yorkers’ constitutional rights, and he will keep these concerns in mind for any bills that land on his desk,” Dora Pekec, a City Hall spokesperson, said in a statement provided to the Forward. “He wants to ensure both the right to prayer and the right to protest are protected here in New York City.”
The bills do not explicitly bar protests or codify a specific distance requirement. Its initial proposal to establish buffer zones of up to 100 feet outside synagogues and other houses of worship was omitted following reservations expressed by Police Commissioner Jessica Tisch, who, like Menin, is Jewish, and cautioned that a one-size-fits-all rule might not withstand legal challenge and could prove unworkable across neighborhoods with vastly different street layouts. The Council agreed to revise the language of the bill, placing implementation authority squarely with the police department.
At the state level, Kathy Hochul has proposed similar legislation that would create a 25-foot buffer zone around houses of worship statewide. The measure is being negotiated as part of budget talks ahead of an April 1 deadline. A similar effort is also under consideration in California.
The post Mamdani voices concerns about synagogue buffer zone bill poised to pass NYC Council appeared first on The Forward.
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‘We Need to Wake Up’: Sylvan Adams Warns of Organized, Coordinated Antisemitism After Oct. 7
Canadian-Israeli philanthropist Sylvan Adams on The Algemeiner’s “J100” podcast. Photo: Screenshot
The protests began before the war did.
That, for Sylvan Adams, is the detail that should change how people understand everything that followed Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, massacre across southern Israel.
Speaking on The Algemeiner‘s “J100” podcast, the Canadian-Israeli philanthropist pointed to the anti-Israel demonstrations that erupted across Western cities on Oct. 8 — less than 24 hours after Hamas’s atrocities — as evidence that the global reaction was not simply emotional or spontaneous.
“Israel hadn’t even entered Gaza yet,” Adams said. “We were still counting our dead.”
The speed and coordination of those protests, he argued, suggest something deeper: a preexisting infrastructure of activism, funding, and ideology that was activated the moment the attacks occurred.
“It’s like they flicked a switch,” he said.
In Adams’ view, the surge of antisemitism that followed the Oct. 7 attack is not an isolated phenomenon, but the visible expression of a long-building system — one tied to Islamist movements, state-backed funding, and ideological allies across the West.
“We need to wake up,” he said.
At the same time, Adams was clear that the loudest voices are not the majority. Most people, he argued, are neither antisemitic nor deeply anti-Israel — but they are not organized, not activated, and not nearly as visible.
“The majority is there,” he said. “But they’re not activists.”
That imbalance has allowed more extreme narratives to dominate public discourse, particularly among younger audiences shaped by social media and campus environments.
Adams’ response to this challenge has not been confined to analysis.
A businessman who built his career in Canada before making aliyah a decade ago, he has become one of Israel’s most prominent philanthropists, directing major investments toward institutions in the country’s south.
In the aftermath of Oct. 7, he announced $100 million gifts to both Ben-Gurion University of the Negev and Soroka Medical Center — moves he framed not as charity, but as long-term investments in Israel’s resilience.
The goal, he said, is not just to rebuild, but to reinforce.
Alongside those efforts, Adams has pursued a less conventional form of advocacy: using sports and culture to reshape how Israel is perceived abroad.
An accomplished cyclist and world champion in his age category, he has helped bring major international events to Israel, including global cycling races and high-profile appearances by figures such as Lionel Messi.
The strategy is to reach audiences that are not tuning in for politics — and introduce them to a different version of Israel.
“People are always surprised,” Adams said. “It’s not what they thought.”
That approach reflects a broader philosophy: that Israel must be strengthened not only on the ground, but in the way it is seen.
Adams’ worldview is rooted in his own family history. Born to Holocaust-surviving parents from Romania, whose journeys passed through pre-state Israel before settling in Canada, he grew up in a deeply Zionist home before eventually building a life in Montreal.
His decision to move to Israel later in life was, in his telling, less a break than a return.
“I always thought we would end up there,” he recalled his wife saying.
Now based in Israel, Adams has positioned himself as both a builder and a messenger —investing in the country’s future while trying to influence how it is understood beyond its borders.
His message to Jews outside Israel was direct.
“We’re one people,” he said. “Israel belongs to all of us.”
In the current moment, that idea carries added weight — not just as a statement of identity, but as a call to responsibility.