Clubhouses scattered throughout the Bronx, north of Manhattan, are meant to evoke the Puerto Rican countryside. Above, playing congas inside the Rincon Criollo. Top, a casita in a community garden.

By C. J. HUGHES


Cabbage boiled on a grill. Wine pressed from grapes grown on a chainlink fence surrounding the property sloshed into cups. Under paintings on a wall showing women in pastel dresses, and a brightly colored machete sitting on a ledge, men played their congas, making a rhythmic thumping.

Though the cracked sidewalks outside were frosty, inside the Rincon Criollo, a lime-hued wooden clubhouse in a community garden in Melrose, in the South Bronx, just north of Manhattan, a summertime vibe ruled.

The 5-by-5-meter clubhouse, where a dozen men gathered on a Friday, is one of many scattered throughout the Bronx that are meant to evoke the Puerto Rican countryside, where low-roofed buildings surrounded by gardens, known as casitas,“little houses,”are a common sight.

“This is an important place for the community because it helps it to remember its roots,”said Carmelo Diaz, 55, as he sat inside the Rincon Criollo and began, in song, to beg forgiveness of a long-lost love.

Bronx leaders seem to agree. Adolfo Carrion Jr., the Bronx borough president, who was appointed to a position in the Obama administration, has urged the New York’s Landmarks Preservation Commission in a report issued in January to declare Rincon Criollo, along with other casitas, as city landmarks.

Emphasizing sites that have cultural significance, like the casitas, “is very, very different from how we normally have done things, but it is important to broaden the definition,”said Bernd Zimmermann, a former planner in the Bronx borough office who headed the task force that created the list.

“Puerto Ricans wanted to recreate their villages to stabilize themselves while adjusting to society and they were doing it in a place that was an absolute wasteland”because of crime, abandonment and decay, he added.

Rincon Criollo, which translates roughly to down-home corner, has occupied its current 278-square-meter corner lot, which also includes an openair stage, some grills and a shrine to the Virgin Mary, since 2007, after relocating there from a site one block north.

That earlier site, which the city owns and seeks to develop, was a junk-strewn lot in 1974 .

Rincon Criollo may be the oldest casita in the South Bronx, residents say, though many have sprung up since. Although few casitas are open regularly when it is cold because of their thin walls, passers-by can still savor their designs and occasionally sylvan settings from the street.

Tony Incle, 52, a retired electrician, showed a visitor the chandelier he installed at his creation that went up in 1994 in an abandoned lot, which anchors the ceiling of a blue faceted roof.

“And we used to have another casita next door, too, but then they built those homes,”Mr. Incle said.

At most casitas, men seem to dominate among the regulars who show up, and many of them are retired.

An exception to both rules, though, is found at the United We Stand Garden, where the group of five men at a square table on a recent afternoon included Pedro Cintron, 33, an ironworker who lives nearby.

“In Puerto Rico, you would be playing outside, but we have to adjust a bit,”said Mr. Cintron.“But I still roll in here every day.”

A few steps away, past plots for tomato plants, now desolate, and two wandering roosters, stood a second casita, built in 1992, where four women played dominoes in studious silence.

“We could meet in our apartments, but you wouldn’t have these views,”said Aida Rosa, gesturing toward a pair of pine trees.“And we need room for spectators.”