Lenny’s Clam Bar is on a picturesque corner of Howard Beach, a friendly restaurant where you can bring the family for celebrations or meet a few friends after work for drinks at the bar. Out back, there is a deck overlooking the docks in Shellbank Basin and allowing a peek into the bay.
Despite its name and location, the owner, Joe DeCandia, said that his family does not have any connection to fishing except for the name and the menu – and the restaurants’ recent underwater adventure. ‘
“We stacked the chairs and everything, but it didn’t matter: we’re right on the water. It came in so fast, in two hours, it was done.” DeCandia said of Hurricane Sandy, which filled his restaurant with four feet of water.
“It wasn’t just the amount of water,” he said. “It was salt water, and the force of the water was incredible. There’s a garbage compactor out back that was moved four blocks.”
The electronics were fried, untold inventory was ruined, and the walls had to come out.
“We re-opened within two weeks of getting power, without the walls done.” DeCandia said. “I had 50 employees out of work, you’re spending money on the renovations, on the repairs, nothing is coming in…I had to open as soon as possible.”
Working during off hours, Lenny’s was renovated and expanded, adding on a new dining room in the space next door that had been a gym before the storm. After the storm, its owner had decided not to return.
Another new addition is the boat out back. It sits rusting into the bay, a relic of the force of the storm that has been stranded on the rocks next to the deck since Sandy.
“We can’t figure out how to get it down, so it just stays there. No one has claimed it.” DeCandia said.
One of the valets added that occasionally the NYPD on boats will cruise by, but they don’t seem to know what to do with the boat either, so it stays, a modern day shipwreck.
The restaurant itself looks like new, with the walls tastefully decorated with murals and the tile floor refinished to a shine. Staff dressed in black and white bustle between the bar and the tables, pausing to catch up with regulars and gossip with each other. As if to taunt the storm-weary patrons, National Flood Insurance ads appear every so often on the television screens above the bar.
“We paid out of pocket, we couldn’t wait for the insurance. It wiped us out, financially. I don’t know how a small business would do it.” DeCandia said.
“I had the best insurance, but they still didn’t cover my docks,” said Mike, the bartender who lives in the area. “No insurance does.”
Regarding insurance, DeCandia said that he expects prices to skyrocket from the low rates that he was accustomed to before.
“Before, it was like, hurricanes in New York? Get out of here. Now, I’m like, it’s $500 [for insurance]? I’d pay that a hundred times over now.”
By Kate Bubacz