Well, I don’t think I’m quite as obsessed as my fellow bloggers in today’s NYT article, “For Some, the Blogging Never Stops,” but I am thrilled to have surpassed the 10,000 visitors mark — I’m up to over 11,700 visitors. Thanks for stopping by!
v. 2.0
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Sendin’ the Linklove, Baby
Snaps go out to Doug for quoting me in yesterday’s Ask Gothamist advice column about the best tattoo parlor in NYC. I’m feeling the linklove. -
My Love Life (or Lack Thereof), for Your Entertainment
On a whim yesterday I submitted an application for the New York Post’s “dating game.” I returned home to a voice mail from someone at the Post wanting to schedule me for a headshot. Now this could be interesting/humiliating/terrifying. I really have got to stop smoking crack in the office . . .
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A Taste of Tribeca
My dad was visiting this weekend, and the majority of our plans centered around food. Not all, but certainly most of our day and a half together was focused on where we were going to eat, and when. Luckily for us, his visit coincided with Taste of Tribeca, an all-day food festival featuring a variety of Tribeca’s finest eating establishments. For a small fee, we were able to sample the wares of six different restaurants. My favorites of the day were:
the pulled pork sandwich, from Walker’s,
the ribs from Odeon,
and a colorful sushi plate from a sushi place, the name of which I can’t recall.
Hmm. Anyway, Taste of the Village is coming up on June 17th — you know I’ll be there.Dad and I were joined at the food fest by some friends from Maine who were in town visiting their son and his partner. Coincidentally, the younger two had recently moved to NYC from San Francisco, and were giving me all kinds of comparisons between the two cities, and the pros and cons of each. Very helpful, given my current wanderlust. After stuffing ourselves silly in the heat, we cooled off in the atrium of the Tribeca Grand, and then wandered through SoHo, stopping in various shops along the way. We stopped in the funky new Apple store, where Danny and I fielded various technology questions about iPods. Despite some confusion about how they work, the older generation seems quite keen on buying iPods at some point.
After a rest and a shower, we were off to eat again. This time, to Otto, for some light antipasti and vino before dad had to fly back to Maine. Thanks for everything Dad, and thanks to Phyllis, Bernie, Danny and David for a fun day in NYC.
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Cyberfood
This week’s Time Out New York includes a roundup of food links, including some of my personal favorites — Chowhound, NYC Eats, Menupages, and Epicurious. Some other favorites of mine that I thought were missing include The Food Section, Walker New York: Eats, and The Strong Buzz. You can find a few more of my favorites here and here, in two early posts.
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Wanderlust, Part 2
I have to thank everyone for their input on last week’s post. I promised to fill you in on my thoughts on the matter, so here they are. First of all, I have lived in three places (basically): Washington D.C., but never as an adult; Boston, mostly for college, but for a few years afterwards; and New York, both in the city and in a nearby suburb. Every time I have moved to a new city, it was for school — first college, then law school. I haven’t really considered just up and moving somewhere new without the safety net of school to back me up.
So where would I go, and why? My Dad lives in Portland, Maine, which I would like if it were a tad warmer. Basically, the only other place I have ever considered living is — you guessed it — San Francisco. I’ve visited a few times and it felt comfortable, interesting, and has many of the things I’m looking for. It’s a great walking city, which is crucial for me. I have two friends moving there this summer, so I can visit them along with the other friends I already have there. I was surprised to hear Austin suggested, but I have another friend moving there — I definitely plan on visiting, particularly to see some great live music. I have to say, however, that I’m not a huge fan of the South, generally. I know Austin has a different vibe, but it’s still in Texas. I also really love the ocean, and can’t really imagine not living on a coast.
When I imagine my future, I see an urban setting. No suburbs for me, thank you very much. I see myself in a place where I can walk around to my neighborhood stores, have a small garden, have friends and family over for dinner or a barbecue. I want to be able to partake in the arts and entertainment community, go to funky restaurants, stroll through Chinatown. Even farther into the future, I want to be an urban mom — just strap the kid in a backpack and take him/her to the farmers’ market, the museum, the park, and what have you.
So much of this is dependent on my career — it took me a few years in the wrong direction to find the right career path after law school. Now that I’ve found it, I’m not really ready to stray. I’d have to be able to move while staying on the right path. That could mean only moving for 3-6 months just for a change of pace while I look for something back in NYC, but it’s very unlikely that I’d do anything to jeopardize the track I’ve set myself on. Plus, the thought of uprooting my life and moving across the country is somewhat terrifying — not a decision I’d make lightly. So — we’ll see where this crazy journey called life takes me in the next few months. One day at a time.
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Mean Girls*
Not sure why I’m obsessed with Bridget Harrison’s columns lately, but her column this week is sort of a counterpoint to her prior two articles. This week, she attempts to get the male New Yorker’s perspective, and concludes that they think that “girls are mean.”
Mean?! Mean, my ass. The guys she interviews come forth with brilliant insight about New York women: “Women here can be so mean,” said one friend. “Nothing is ever good enough, they expect you to pay for everything.” Yeah. That’s me, alright. “Girls who are easygoing and even occasionally pick up a tab are like a breath of fresh air.” Are there really women out there who never pay? You all know how I feel about that. The article portrays New York women as gold-digging, wedding-hungry, nitpicky bitches. And if that describes me, which I hardly think it does, then I’m definitely in the wrong city. Most women I know don’t fit that description, either, which is a testament to the interesting, smart, attractive, amazing women with whom I surround myself. We are the true women of New York City. Come and find us if you want a change of pace.
[* You know, like the movie. I really want to see this, by the way. It’s supposed to be like an updated Heathers.]
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Weekend Highlights
All in all, a fairly mellow weekend, but there were definitely some high points. Met up with a few friends on Friday night at Fuel, the hip lounge, which used to be Phebe’s, the dive with cheap pitchers. I remembered back to my first day of law school orientation when I was the hero for bringing a group of law students to a place so close to school with such cheap beer. After Fuel, we went to Great Jones Cafe, which would be my neighborhood bar were it only a few blocks closer to my apartment. Try the vodka lemonades if you haven’t already. Saturday I had brunch with a longtime friend uptown, which gave us a much-needed opportunity to catch up on life, the universe, and everything. Then — despite the fact that it was gorgeous out, I had already planned to go to the Met for a Tufts Alumni event — a treasure hunt in the museum. Not only was it fun, but my team won, in record time. Got a pedicure (the purple polish leapt out at me — I couldn’t help it), then settled in for a mellow evening. I rented a flick and made my very first batch of enchiladas — so easy and a perfect dish for lunchtime leftovers. After my enchilada, I was craving something sweet, so headed to Otto for some gelato before my movie. While I was there, the scary drunk guy next to me declared me to be “the girl for him.” Thankfully, he was visiting from Florida. As they were leaving, his companion, who seemed much less drunk, offered me half a bottle of wine that they hadn’t finished. Perhaps he figured it was adequate compensation for dealing with his drunk friend. Either way, I called up a neighbor and fellow wine society member, and we happily finished a great bottle of wine. She then joined me for the movie I had rented, and she and her boyfriend (who works at Otto) polished off the remaining enchiladas (no leftovers for me this time — guess I’ll make anonother batch!). Started off Sunday with yoga at Laughing Lotus, followed by brunch at City Bakery, and continued to enjoy the sunshine with a bike ride in Central Park, all with my friend Sarah, who was excellent company. Finished off the evening with drinks outside at B-Bar with my Sunday night crew.
So, despite the fact that I’m considering leaving to get a clean slate and a fresh start, life here in NYC is not too shabby either. . .
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Should I Stay or Should I Go?*
After reading two of Bridget Harrison’s articles about men in New York — one on the epidemic of casual-ness in NYC relationships; the other on NYC men being extraordinarily committment-phobic — I am even more convinced that New York City breeds an unhealthy dating environment. This realization, coupled with my jealousy of friends moving away to start new jobs or graduate school, has led me to do some serious pondering about moving to another city.
Really.
Yes, I know, I have toyed with the notion of moving to Brooklyn to change my love life, but I’m also realizing that NYC as a whole is a tough place to live. The pace is fast and furious, and sometimes it’s hard to keep up. I love it tremendously, and it’s extremely hard for me to imagine living anywhere else, but perhaps that is enough reason for me to move away, at least temporarily. If I am incredibly homesick, and miss it dearly, then I can always move back. Maybe I should move somewhere else to prove to myself that I can, in fact, live outside of NYC. Having gotten to know myself pretty well in the past five years or so, I am pretty confident that I could move to a new city where I only know a few people and put the pieces together that I need/want/like to have to form a well-rounded life and a solid social network.
So where should I go? You’ve all gotten to know me a bit over the past nine months or so — I’m extremely curious to get your opinons. I have my own, which I will share with you next week, but for now, remember that I’m looking for a well-educated, somewhat liberal population, where I don’t need a car, with good food, opportunities for cycling, and a thriving music, arts, and culture scene. Remember, I need other fun, interesting, smart, youngish folks to hang out with, and enough space to have a dinner party for them. And a Chinatown is a plus. Let me know what you think!
* [A tribute to the Clash song of the same name. And by the way, if you do not own this album, buy it immediately.]
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Food, food, food . . .
All kinds of exciting food news today. First, the James Beard Award winners. My two faves on the list are Sam Hayward, from Fore Street in Portland, Maine, and Allison Vines-Rushing, from Jack’s Luxury Oyster Bar, here in NYC. I have had the pleasure of dining at both of these restaurants, and they are up there as some of the best meals I have had. My parents were even lucky enough to win a dinner cooked by Sam Hayward in a silent auction fundraiser. They were supposed to send me a copy of the menu (ahem). My meal at Jack’s was outstanding, and would have been an ideal romantic evening, had I actually been there with a date.
Next, a brief review of The Spotted Pig, and a first glimpse at 5 Ninth. We arrived at The Spotted Pig at about 7:15, and were informed that we would have a 45 minute wait for a table for two. Since there was no room at the bar, I suggested that we walk to nearby 5 Ninth, which had recently opened. We could check out the menu there as well, and then make a decision. We entered 5 Ninth tentatively, as it appeared from the outside that it might still be under construction. Once we entered, however, we were greeted with a calming, mellow atmosphere, with high, beamed ceilings (similar to Chickenbone Cafe, where the chef used to work). We took a glance at the menu, which looked fantastic, but a little above our price range for the night, so we only had a glass of wine. I have plans to go there next Tuesday for dinner (after payday) with some wine society folks, and now I’m really looking forward to it. The service was a little spotty, especially just for a glass of wine, but I’m going to chalk it up to being so new. Hopefully they’ll tighten up a bit by next week. Back to the Pig, where we were told that our wait would be another half-hour. We debated outside for a while, but luckily the half-hour turned into ten minutes, and we were seated at a comfy table in the back. Although the atmosphere is somewhat pub-ish, the food seems much more complex than anything you’d find at a pub. We started with the much-reviewed gnudi, a gnocci-like dumpling made of cheese, served with brown butter and sage. It was creamy and delicious, and although we agreed that the serving was pretty small, I didn’t think I’d be able to each much more, as it was very rich. My dining companion disagreed, but he’s a guy with a pretty large appetite, or so he says. For our entrees, I opted for the burger, served with a highly seasoned mound of shoestring fries. It was good, but I’d still be more likely to walk the few blocks to the Corner Bistro to get my burger fix. Ethan got the steak with potatoes, artichokes, and pancetta. Once again, I thought it was pretty good (he was kind enough to give me a taste), but nothing extraordinary. All in all, though, it was a pleasant dining experience. I’d like to hit the place again on an off time, and maybe sit at the bar and order several of the appetizers, which seemed more interesting to me than the main courses.
- The Spotted Pig, 314 West 11th St. at Greenwich Street
- 5 Ninth, 5 9th Avenue