Outsiders call it the street with little doors. That is, if they know it at all, because Dennet Place, a tiny lane near the Gowanus Canal in Brooklyn, is something of a secret. It can evade GPS, and even some people who have lived nearby for years have never heard of it.

Those who do pass by wonder about the doors. Dennet houses have miniature street-level entrances, more appropriate for hobbits than humans. Some lead into basements, others into kitchens or the bedroom and bath sections of a home. Residents crouch in and out of the doors as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Dennet Place has also, for the last century or so, been home to a tight-knit collection of Italian-American families that liken the lane to a separate enclave within Carroll Gardens. They call it Cat’s Alley, which includes one of the streets bounding Dennet Place, Nelson Street. No one knows how it got that nickname or why the doors are so small. And no one seems to recall a Dennet or know why the name is sometimes spelled with two T’s.

To hear the older families describe it, Dennet Place embodied an immigrant experience. Packs of children once ran up and down, craps games were played openly on the pavement, fathers kept small vineyards and fig trees in their backyards, doors were left unlocked. Children addressed adults as “aunt” or “uncle” whether they were related to them or not, and to omit this sign of respect could result in uno schiaffo — a slap. The street once had shops on each of its corners. “Technically, you never had to leave,” one longtime resident said.