At today's PR and design meeting at the 146 Orchard Street restaurant space, the chef Camille Becerra informed me that she will not be reopening her Greenpoint hotspot Paloma. The place was burned out in a fire, and Camille has been patiently awaiting her insurance loot to come in so that she could once again serve her enthusiastic following. Now that crowd will have to wait some more or visit the joint that Marc Dizon and I are designing for her on the Lower East Side. With the insurance money in hand, Camille was confident that another Paloma is in the near future. I asked her if she would reopen in Brooklyn, and after an initial "hell yeah," she started to think that maybe Manhattan would be better. The decision was also made not to call the Orchard Street space Paloma Orchard or anything else like that. A name search that embraces the farm-fresh quality of the food is ongoing. After the jump is Camille's blow-by-blow of the events leading up to the thwarting of the re-opening -- and no, "thwarting" is not being considered for a name.

I had been in contact regularly with my landlord Steven Love, a lobbyist working in downtown Manhattan and a non-practicing attorney. I communicated with him regularly about my plans to reopen Paloma, and he seemed to be on the same page, even offering to help with my portion of the rebuild in the earlier stages of the process. Five months after the fire, no offer was made from the insurance company, and no settlement had been made with him or I. Tough spot to be in financially, since I didn't prepare for this because I was advised by my public adjuster that the process would take only two months. Throughout this time, Love gave no indication of his attempt to terminate my lease, but all awhile he was conjuring up a plan. The pre-meditative tactic to default my lease was in the works days after the fire, and it went down like this.

Days after Love reached a settlement with his insurance company, I was asked to pay rent for the uninhabitable space, including utility bills and building department expediters for their building permits. Again, I didn't prepare for such a lengthy time of being closed, so I had no funds to spare. I was given two business days to come up with a considerable amount of money. I am the only owner of the restaurant, so I am limited to funds as it is; given the recession and the fact I’ve been out of business, I feared loosing my beloved Paloma.

I involved my attorney to help resolve this, and then Love pulled out the big cards -- the option to renew my lease went into effect the exact month of the fire, and the landlord made no attempt to advise me, but he played it as if all was good. All my business documentation had burned in the fire, including the lease, and I was completely unaware the whole time that I had no lease. Had I the money to put up for the rent, bills, and DOB, he would have taken me for that and then bounced me after that point. One devastating event after another, and at this point I have no option but to give up on this dream. I miss it and think of how things were going so good right before the fire. We still get emails from folks in the neighborhood as well as from all over the city expressing that we are missed and that we should keep pressing forward.