On a brisk Saturday in October, the memory of pop-up dining sheds still lingers across New York’s streets, even as most have vanished under new city rules. Penny Hardy, an urban historian and longtime Brooklyn resident, captures this era in vivid detail in her new book, ‘Streetery: Improvised Architecture in a City on Pause,’ released last week. Hardy’s work is less a nostalgic reverie than a forensic document, tracing the chaotic, resourceful, and occasionally absurd world of DIY pandemic-era outdoor dining.
Crisscrossing neighborhoods from Jackson Heights to the West Village, Hardy photographed hundreds of sheds at the height of their existence—some built from scrap lumber and plastic tarps, others draped in fairy lights and plywood murals. The book’s pages chronicle both the ingenuity and the haphazardness that defined those months. “These sheds were acts of desperation and hope,” Hardy said in conversation at McNally Jackson on Prince Street on Thursday. “They were the city’s response to an impossible moment.”
For restaurant owners, the sheds were lifelines—but also headaches. Not every operator had the budget for cedar planks or heat lamps, leading to a spectrum of structures that veered from charming to ramshackle. A chapter on the Lower East Side reveals sheds lashed together with bungee cords, while a photo spread from Astoria captures families dining in corrugated-metal huts, their laughter muffled by the rumble of passing traffic.
Hardy’s book arrives just as the city is entering a new chapter in outdoor dining. As of this month, new regulations mandate stricter design standards, phasing out the most makeshift structures in favor of lighter, seasonal setups. Yet the memory of those rough-edged sheds, and the community they fostered during a time of crisis, lingers in the city’s psyche. ‘Streetery’ invites New Yorkers to remember—not just the architecture, but the resilience that built it.
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