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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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Why protests in Iran seem surprisingly pro-Israel
Iranian cities are engulfed in anti-regime protests, the largest in several years. Initially sparked by economic frustration, the demonstrations have quickly expanded to include broader grievances — particularly anger at Iran’s foreign policy. One chant heard repeatedly in videos circulating from inside Iran captures that anger succinctly: “Neither Gaza, nor for Lebanon — my life is only for Iran.”
The slogan refers to Iran’s long-standing support for armed groups across the Middle East, including Hezbollah in Lebanon, Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad in Gaza, the Houthis in Yemen, and militias in Iraq and Syria. Qassem Soleimani, the late commander of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’ Quds Force, designed the strategy with the intention of encircling Israel with proxy forces on multiple fronts.
Today, many Iranians view that strategy as a drain on a collapsing economy. On December 28, the Iranian rial — the country’s currency — plunged against the U.S. dollar, intensifying a long-running economic crisis marked by soaring prices and an annual inflation rate of around 40 percent.
Beyond the billions of dollars Tehran has spent supporting these groups, the U.S. and European Union have imposed harsh sanctions targeting Iran’s proxy networks and nuclear program. Those sanctions have restricted Iran’s access to international banking, restricted oil exports, and discouraged foreign investment into the country, contributing to inflation and the steady erosion of the rial.
In June, Iranians came face to face with the consequences of the regime’s foreign policy when Israeli strikes across the country targeted missile and nuclear sites, as well as IRGC leaders. The 12-Day War severely disrupted daily life and resulted in the death of 436 Iranian civilians.
For many protesters, the connection feels direct: money spent sustaining proxy forces abroad brings harsher sanctions at home, raising prices, shrinking wages, and worsening daily life. With that in mind, the chant is less an endorsement of Israel than a rejection of a foreign policy that, in protesters’ eyes, prioritizes anti-Israel and anti-Western ideology over basic economic survival.
The return of monarchist symbolism
Many protesters are also calling for the return of the Pahlavi dynasty, which ruled Iran until the 1979 Islamic Revolution. Videos shared online show protesters chanting slogans in favor of the former monarchy or displaying symbols associated with it, including the pre-revolutionary Iranian flag.
The Pahlavi era was marked by rapid modernization and close ties with the United States and Israel, including a strategic alliance with Israel that consisted of economic and intelligence cooperation. At the same time, the period was also defined by political repression, censorship, and the use of secret police to silence dissent — factors that ultimately fueled the revolution that ended the monarchy.
The most prominent figure associated with the dynasty today is Reza Pahlavi, the Shah’s son, who lives in Maryland and has been outspokenly pro-Israel. Pahlavi has called for normalizing relations between Iran and Israel through what he has dubbed the “Cyrus Accords,” an expansion of the Abraham Accords. Pahlavi has commented that the “only two countries on this planet that can claim to have a biblical relationship” are “Iran and Israel.”
In April 2023, Pahlavi traveled to Israel, where he met with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, President Isaac Herzog, and paid a visit to the Western Wall, where he said he prayed “for the day when the good people of Iran and Israel can renew our historic friendship.” He even consulted Israeli water management scientists, whom he dubbed the “best experts in the field,” to help him develop a plan of action for Iran’s water crisis, which has also been a major point of contention for protestors. In June, Pahlavi’s daughter married Jewish American businessman Bradley Sherman, and the hora was danced at the reception.
On Thursday, Pahlavi called on Iranians to take to the streets en masse. Since his call to action, the protests have escalated significantly, though the extent of his influence inside Iran remains difficult to assess.
Many analysts caution that monarchist support inside Iran remains fragmented, and that Pahlavi is unlikely to emerge as a singular opposition leader. Still, the symbolism matters. The current protests have been driven in large part by young Iranians, many of whom have no direct memory of the Pahlavi era. The use of monarchist symbolism may signal not only nostalgia, but also an alternative vision of Iran’s place in the world — one less defined by permanent hostility toward Israel.
The post Why protests in Iran seem surprisingly pro-Israel appeared first on The Forward.
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God heard the cries of Israelites in Egypt. Who will respond to our devastation in Minnesota?
In this week’s Torah portion, Shemot, God hears the cries of the oppressed Israelites in Egypt and calls out to Moses through the form of a burning bush.
Today, here in Minnesota, cries of the oppressed can be heard, too. They come from all those who grieve the tragic loss of Renée Nicole Good, fatally shot by an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent on Wednesday morning in front of her wife and horrified neighbors. And they come from all those feeling fear and outrage as federal agents have increased their efforts to detain immigrants, acting with new violence and brutality as they do so.
Many of my fellow Minnesotans have been frightened to leave their homes. They are not going to the jobs they rely on to afford their basic needs, or attending worship services. Parents are scared to send their children to school. Schools, daycare centers and businesses are afraid to open, as ICE makes arrests on their doorsteps. Community members who have been eager to help are now fearful, in the wake of Good’s killing, that they, too, may be targeted, harassed, or even killed.
My own child’s elementary school moved recess indoors to protect vulnerable students and staff who are worried about their safety from ICE.
In Shemot, God calls to Moses to usher in an era of change for the Israelites desperate for relief from fear, violence and vicious retribution. Moses hesitates, asking “who am I?” to take on this monumental task. God assures him that he is not alone, because God will be with him throughout the journey.
As we enter this Shabbat, with the tragedy of Good’s death fresh in our minds, we must commit ourselves to hearing the cries of all who suffer among us. That is the first step toward healing and repairing the brokenness that so many now feel.
That repair will be a monumental task. But like Moses, we are not called to do it alone.
In fact, we must not try to. Instead, we must focus our efforts on building bonds in the face of terror — not letting that terror break our connections to one another.
The Jewish sages taught that, for our ancestors, sinat chinam — baseless hatred — led to internal fracture, civil war, the destruction of both Jewish temples, and our people’s forced exile from the land of Israel. Their warning is not abstract. It reminds us that societies collapse not only because of external threats, but also because of the consequences of unmitigated internal rage.
What’s needed to correct our dangerous path?
First, a strong pushback against those voices who have issued incomprehensible personal attacks against Good since her death. Too many federal officials and media personalities have not only failed to express empathy for a life lost, but also used her death to inflame polarization.
Our state desperately needs calm and clarity. Our leaders and our citizens must forcefully affirm that Good’s death was needless and tragic, and that we will not go along with attempts to rewrite that truth.
As part of this affirmation, we must call on the federal government to allow the professional and nonpartisan Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension to fully participate in the investigation of Good’s death. No matter what findings are ultimately reached, the investigation’s credibility relies upon it being done in partnership with state and federal officials.
This event has proven what many of us already knew: The ongoing surge of more than 2,000 ICE agents into Minnesota is counterproductive to restoring public safety and public trust. Minnesotans desperately want to return to normalcy. We want to feel safe in going to school, to work, and to spend time with family and friends. ICE has brought fear and anxiety into our lives, not peace or justice. They must go.
Our country’s immigration system has been broken for decades. Congress has at points come close to reaching bipartisan, consensus-driven, comprehensive immigration reform, but political polarization has made such compromises all but impossible to reach.
We must redouble our efforts to build an immigration system based upon respect for the rule of law, compassion, and an understanding of the vital role that immigrants play in strengthening our society as a whole.
We ask our fellow Minnesotans to treat members of law enforcement, and the men and women of our Minnesota National Guard, with patience and kindness. And we urge our community to exercise compassion for the vulnerable in the days ahead.
As Jewish Americans, we have a long and proud history of supporting immigrant communities — remembering that we too were once strangers in a strange land. Not just our ancestors in ancient Egypt, whose anguish this week’s Torah portion recounts, but also here, in the U.S. We must reinvigorate that commitment — for the sake of Good’s memory, our immigrant neighbors, and the health of our whole society.
The post God heard the cries of Israelites in Egypt. Who will respond to our devastation in Minnesota? appeared first on The Forward.
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Mamdani Remains Silent on Pro-Hamas Synagogue Protest, Other NYC Lawmakers Issue Condemnations
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani delivers a speech during his inauguration ceremony in New York City, US, Jan. 1, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Kylie Cooper
Newly inaugurated New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani has remained silent regarding an anti-Israel protest outside a Queens synagogue on Thursday evening that featured chants supporting Hamas and prompted nearby Jewish institutions to shut down out of safety concerns.
The demonstration took place outside Young Israel of Kew Gardens Hills, where an event promoting Israeli real estate investments was scheduled. Dozens of protesters chanted slogans including “Globalize the intifada” and “Say it loud, say it clear, we support Hamas here,” according to video footage shared online. Hamas is designated a terrorist organization by the United States and the architect behind the Oct. 7 massacres in Israel which killed roughly 1200 and resulted in the abduction of 250 others.
The protest also unfolded near the Yeshiva of Central Queens, leading synagogue leaders to cancel evening prayer services and local schools to dismiss students early. While the New York Police Department maintained a buffer zone and no major violence was reported, residents described the atmosphere as tense and intimidating.
A chorus of condemnation has come from city and state lawmakers since the protest.
State Assemblyman Sam Berger, whose district includes the synagogue, said the mayor’s failure to speak out was “deeply concerning,” arguing that city leadership has a responsibility to draw clear lines when protests target houses of worship.
“This wasn’t an abstract political rally,” Berger said. “It was outside a synagogue, in a residential Jewish neighborhood, with chants that glorify violence. The mayor should be unequivocal.”
Governor Kathy Hochul, by contrast, swiftly condemned the protest, calling the chants “disgusting” and emphasizing that support for Hamas has no place in New York.
“No matter your political beliefs, this type of rhetoric is disgusting, it’s dangerous, and it has no place in New York,” Hochul wrote.
NYC Council Speaker Julie Menin wrote that “openly and proudly sympathizing with Hamas, especially while standing in the largely Jewish community of Kew Gardens Hills, stokes fear and division.”
Mark Levine, NYC Comptroller, repudiated the demonstrations, saying they “cannot be normalized or excused.”
Rep. Ritchie Torres, a Bronx Democrat, also denounced the demonstration, saying rhetoric that praises terrorist organizations amounts to hate, not legitimate political speech.
Meanwhile, as criticism mounted from state and federal officials, Mamdani, who took office just days earlier, did not issue a direct statement condemning the protest or the rhetoric used by demonstrators.
The protest was organized by groups affiliated with the Palestinian Assembly for Liberation (PAL-Awda) NY/NJ, which has previously promoted demonstrations targeting Israel-related events. Organizers framed the rally as opposition to Israeli land sales, but Jewish leaders say the location and language crossed a line.
The episode echoes earlier controversies surrounding Mamdani, who has faced criticism in the past for what opponents describe as equivocation when anti-Israel protests occur near Jewish religious spaces. In a previous incident outside an Upper East Side synagogue, Mamdani criticized language used by the protesters while simultaneously condemning the synagogue for hosting real estate events.
The protest comes amid an alarming surge in antisemitic hate crimes across New York City.
Jews were targeted in the majority (54 percent) of all hate crimes perpetrated in New York City in 2024, according to data issued by the New York City Police Department (NYPD). A new report released on Wednesday by the New York City Mayor’s Office to Combat Antisemitism, which was established in May, noted that figure rose to a staggering 62 percent in the first quarter of this year, despite Jewish New Yorkers comprising just 11 percent of the city’s population.
After securing the election, Mamdani has repeatedly stressed a commitment to forcefully combatting antisemitism while in office. However, a recent report released by the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) revealed that at least 20 percent of Mamdani’s transition and administrative appointees have either a “documented history of making anti-Israel statements” or ties to radical anti-Zionist organizations that “openly promote terror and harass Jewish people.”
Mamdani, a far-left democratic socialist and avowed anti-Zionist, is an avid supporter of boycotting all Israeli-tied entities who has made anti-Israel activism a cornerstone of his political career and 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.