Last night, my sister, my daughter, and I had supper at the new Sette Restaurant. Located on the corner of Seventh Avenue and Third Street, it has big, gorgeous corner windows and a patio where seasonal vendors used to sell Christmas trees. It’s ‘Windows on the Weird:’ great for people watching and gawking at Seventh Avenue walkers.

Sette is doing what’s called a "soft opening." That is, they are open for business but only serving part of the menu: appetizers, sandwiches and dessert. It’s the shakedown cruise, a chance to test things and get the problems worked out before the newspaper reviewers and the amateur neighborhood critics.

Well, shakedown cruise or not, the nabe seems to be embracing them with a vengeance. They’ve only been open a few days and the place was packed. Slopers are a curious bunch about what goes in and out on Seventh Avenue. And they’re quick to judgment when they are displeased. But in this case, I must say, the people I spoke to were impressed.

We sat next to a nice middle-aged couple from Windsor Terrace who seemed to know as much or more about Brooklyn than me. Their 12-year old daughter was having dinner with a friend at Two Boots and were nervously calling her every twenty minutes or so. They started chatting us up early into the meal. We were all surprised by the abbreviated menu. But we agreed that it was a smart thing to do. A great way to  tell the hordes: Hey, we’re just getting started, just trying to get it right. Reserve judgment until we really up and running. In this nabe it’s all about buzz and Slopers are quick in their opinions about shops and restaurants.

In other words: Restaurateurs beware: Hell hath no fury like a Park Sloper scorned at a new restaurant. Bad service, rudeness, boring food, you name it. If you don’t got the goods, you won’t get the word of mouth. And word of mouth is what makes the world go round ’round here.

We had fun playing the: Do You Remember What Used to Be on Seventh Avenue?  game with the Slope veterans sitting next to us. "I feel like I’m trying on shoes at the Third Street Skate Shop," the wife said. "They used to have  a bench right where I’m sitting."

Then we remembered that Al’s Toyland, a fixture for years on the Avenue, used to be in this space – and that was good for a good 20 minutes of conversation. The owners of Al’s owned Sette’s corner building before Al dropped dead and they sold it in the mid-1990’s.
Al’s was where you would go to buy classic toys: the Spalding balls, Duncan Yo Yo’s, hula hoops, kiddie pools, footsies, Fisher Price pull toys, Barbies, and Milton Bradley games. It was the antithesis of Little Things: there wasn’t an "educational" toy in sight. No developmentally correct playthings or black and white mobiles for newborns.  They sold the real stuff we all grew up on.

Al and his staff were big smokers and incredibly grumpy, even mean. The place stunk of cigarettes and cat piss and there were all kinds signs and warnings posted around the store: KEEP OUT. DO NOT TOUCH.  It was really unpleasant to go in there and deal with those people.
With our dining neighbors, we proved our Park Slope mettle by going back to 1991, remembering Abiyoyo, Pennywhistle Toys, the Russian stationery store, the gourmet shop that lasted two minutes, 200 Fifth Avenue when it was the only restaurant below Union. We seemed to have a great deal of shared Park Slope knowledge between us.

Finishing our $20 bottle of pretty decent wine, we decided that the price is a real inspiration: ‘I was about to order a glass of wine and then I saw the price," said the woman. "And I thought: ‘why not have a bottle?’  The portobello pizza with ricotta cheese was pretty incredible, too. My daughter found the Margarita pizza sauce too spicy.

A friend that was eating in the restaurant came over to say,  "I spoke to the owner and told them the sauce is too hot. That pizza is really for the kids. They should know that."
It’s called feedback. Park Slope style.
For dessert my daughter tried the blood orange sorbet. I think she ordered it because it sounded so grisly. But she seemed to enjoy it. At this point, she was talking to a school friend who was sitting at the table on the other side of us, having dinner with her weekend dad. She also spotted another classmate in the  restaurant who she waved to from time to time.

In Park Slope, even the second graders run into their friends at the chicest restaurants.