Its Up To You, Part 2
As promised, the long-awaited second part to the New York story.
Friday night, Mario and I hoofed it around Greenwich and SoHo looking for a place to eat. We were a little Goldilocks about the situation; that restaurant had too many people, and therefore would be a wait for our hungry stomachs and too loud for us to converse. That restaurant didn't have anyone eating there, and perhaps for good reason. It took us a little while but we found a quiet, hip little corner bar and eatery called Bar Marche, which had a lovely candlelit ambiance, Brazilian music playing, and a table for two available though the place was pretty packed. We sat by the window and watched the SoHoians walk around the wet sidewalks. Dinner was really just a bunch of appetizers: crabmeat spring rolls with ginger and red cabbage salad, homemade garlic herb hummous chock full of fresh baby tomatoes and Kalamata olives, and the standout item was a little pizzette with three mushrooms and plenty of garlic. We split a bottle of Malbec, and then tucked into fabulous desserts and spirited conversation. My poached pear with marizpan ice cream was simply delicious. Mario is always a great dinner companion, and our conversations are never boring. Both food and friend were great that evening.
After dinner, we found a bar called Gatsby's on Spring Street in SoHo. We walked past the main bar, which was full of a younger, hipper-than-thou crowd, and settled in at the red-lit back bar. We struck up conversation with a fresh-faced Irish bartender, who casually mentioned she was the co-owner of the place. Nice! She told us her story about coming to America, and she also laughed about my story regarding Michael Chiarello (check out the archives for my entry "Napa Style Chef Knows Nothing About the Irish). She said if you order a Black and Tan in Ireland, the best that happens is the bartender ignores you. The worst that happens...well, you'll be black and blue.
Tired, and my feet thoroughly chewed up after walking around SoHo in my cutsie little heels, we retreated back to the Holiday Inn. The next morning, I woke up earlier than Mario, and decided to get a little early morning New York walk in. I checked out Little Italy first in the hopes of finding a cappucino and croissant, but with no luck. I diverted course uptown a little and found myself up by NYU at a 24 hour restaurant called Cozy's Famous Soup and Burger. I enjoyed a spinach and feta omlette, with a dry and not very hot english muffin. The coffee was good, though. I then recognized the place as featured heavily in Adam Sandler's movie Big Daddy; one of the characters was a Cozy delivery guy. It wasn't cheap, and it wasn't a Jersey diner, but it got the job done.
Sated, I walked back to the hotel and found a still-snoozing Mario off in dreamland. He woke up and also expressed a wish for Little Italian coffee and sweets, and we had better luck at 10:00 am than I did at 7:00. We sat in the morning sun, outside at the cafe, sipping hot coffees while Mario enjoyed a hearty breakfast of cheesecake. Vacations are meant for moments like this.
We took in some of the excellent shopping on Broadway downtown. Many stores are having their summer sales, while anticipating the fall clothing shipments. Since summer in California lasts until next February, we lucked out quite a bit. We picked up lunch of a hot dog from a Sabrett street vendor (dog count: Suzanne 1, Mario 1). My mom called me around 1:00 to let me know that she was in the city with my twin brothers, and we met them in their cab back at the hotel. They too had stopped at a vendor for some food (dog count: Mikey 1, Lukey 2). Mikey and Luke were cool as cucumbers but I was simply thrilled to be hanging out in NYC with those guys; seeing how much they've grown is amazing to me. So mature and handsome, smart and streetwise...awesome, awesome little men that blow me away every time I talk to them.
They also have a talent I lack, and that is the ability to instantly fall asleep during any mode of transportation. Since they were babies, they've been sleeping in cars on their long drives to somewhere, and the ability followed them to trains, planes, and apparently the New York subways. Mario and I kept a close eye on them as they both nodded off on the 30 minute ride from downtown to the Bronx. Why were we in the Bronx, you might ask? Well, with navy blue caps and a leather mitt, we took ourselves out to the ball game; for 3 out of 4 of us, it was our first visit ever to the revered Yankee Stadium. We had tickets for the bleacher seats, those sun-baked aluminum row seats that house the famous section 39 "Bleacher Creatures". Its no wonder they don't serve alcohol; Coca-Cola alone was enough to rouse that crowd. Luke, Mikey, and myself were amused at the creativity and vulgarity of their chants, but all within good-natured ribbing, and always loving of their favorite team, the Yanks. We started the game with some snacks (dog count: Suzanne 2, Mario 2, Mikey 2, Lukey 3) and again in the 5th inning (dog count: Suzanne 3, Mario 3, Mikey 3, Lukey 4). I've never had 3 hot dogs in one day, but those Nathan's all beef weiners are something else entirely. There's nothing like baseball and hot dogs.
The Yanks lots the game, the only game they lost to the Indians in that series. What a bummer! We met back up with mom and Aunt Sue, who spent the afternoon taking in a matinee of Movin' Out, a musical based on the music of Billy Joel. They were singing in the room and having a grand time. We said our final goodbyes, and Mario and I prepared for dinner.
Wow! What a long entry for just two days. I'll end here for now so I can do proper justice to the next 24 hours, especially the meal we had in Little Italy that night (it will be remembered for years to come as one of the best ever) and the other fun happenings that we had in NewYork. More to come...
Friday night, Mario and I hoofed it around Greenwich and SoHo looking for a place to eat. We were a little Goldilocks about the situation; that restaurant had too many people, and therefore would be a wait for our hungry stomachs and too loud for us to converse. That restaurant didn't have anyone eating there, and perhaps for good reason. It took us a little while but we found a quiet, hip little corner bar and eatery called Bar Marche, which had a lovely candlelit ambiance, Brazilian music playing, and a table for two available though the place was pretty packed. We sat by the window and watched the SoHoians walk around the wet sidewalks. Dinner was really just a bunch of appetizers: crabmeat spring rolls with ginger and red cabbage salad, homemade garlic herb hummous chock full of fresh baby tomatoes and Kalamata olives, and the standout item was a little pizzette with three mushrooms and plenty of garlic. We split a bottle of Malbec, and then tucked into fabulous desserts and spirited conversation. My poached pear with marizpan ice cream was simply delicious. Mario is always a great dinner companion, and our conversations are never boring. Both food and friend were great that evening.
After dinner, we found a bar called Gatsby's on Spring Street in SoHo. We walked past the main bar, which was full of a younger, hipper-than-thou crowd, and settled in at the red-lit back bar. We struck up conversation with a fresh-faced Irish bartender, who casually mentioned she was the co-owner of the place. Nice! She told us her story about coming to America, and she also laughed about my story regarding Michael Chiarello (check out the archives for my entry "Napa Style Chef Knows Nothing About the Irish). She said if you order a Black and Tan in Ireland, the best that happens is the bartender ignores you. The worst that happens...well, you'll be black and blue.
Tired, and my feet thoroughly chewed up after walking around SoHo in my cutsie little heels, we retreated back to the Holiday Inn. The next morning, I woke up earlier than Mario, and decided to get a little early morning New York walk in. I checked out Little Italy first in the hopes of finding a cappucino and croissant, but with no luck. I diverted course uptown a little and found myself up by NYU at a 24 hour restaurant called Cozy's Famous Soup and Burger. I enjoyed a spinach and feta omlette, with a dry and not very hot english muffin. The coffee was good, though. I then recognized the place as featured heavily in Adam Sandler's movie Big Daddy; one of the characters was a Cozy delivery guy. It wasn't cheap, and it wasn't a Jersey diner, but it got the job done.
Sated, I walked back to the hotel and found a still-snoozing Mario off in dreamland. He woke up and also expressed a wish for Little Italian coffee and sweets, and we had better luck at 10:00 am than I did at 7:00. We sat in the morning sun, outside at the cafe, sipping hot coffees while Mario enjoyed a hearty breakfast of cheesecake. Vacations are meant for moments like this.
We took in some of the excellent shopping on Broadway downtown. Many stores are having their summer sales, while anticipating the fall clothing shipments. Since summer in California lasts until next February, we lucked out quite a bit. We picked up lunch of a hot dog from a Sabrett street vendor (dog count: Suzanne 1, Mario 1). My mom called me around 1:00 to let me know that she was in the city with my twin brothers, and we met them in their cab back at the hotel. They too had stopped at a vendor for some food (dog count: Mikey 1, Lukey 2). Mikey and Luke were cool as cucumbers but I was simply thrilled to be hanging out in NYC with those guys; seeing how much they've grown is amazing to me. So mature and handsome, smart and streetwise...awesome, awesome little men that blow me away every time I talk to them.
They also have a talent I lack, and that is the ability to instantly fall asleep during any mode of transportation. Since they were babies, they've been sleeping in cars on their long drives to somewhere, and the ability followed them to trains, planes, and apparently the New York subways. Mario and I kept a close eye on them as they both nodded off on the 30 minute ride from downtown to the Bronx. Why were we in the Bronx, you might ask? Well, with navy blue caps and a leather mitt, we took ourselves out to the ball game; for 3 out of 4 of us, it was our first visit ever to the revered Yankee Stadium. We had tickets for the bleacher seats, those sun-baked aluminum row seats that house the famous section 39 "Bleacher Creatures". Its no wonder they don't serve alcohol; Coca-Cola alone was enough to rouse that crowd. Luke, Mikey, and myself were amused at the creativity and vulgarity of their chants, but all within good-natured ribbing, and always loving of their favorite team, the Yanks. We started the game with some snacks (dog count: Suzanne 2, Mario 2, Mikey 2, Lukey 3) and again in the 5th inning (dog count: Suzanne 3, Mario 3, Mikey 3, Lukey 4). I've never had 3 hot dogs in one day, but those Nathan's all beef weiners are something else entirely. There's nothing like baseball and hot dogs.
The Yanks lots the game, the only game they lost to the Indians in that series. What a bummer! We met back up with mom and Aunt Sue, who spent the afternoon taking in a matinee of Movin' Out, a musical based on the music of Billy Joel. They were singing in the room and having a grand time. We said our final goodbyes, and Mario and I prepared for dinner.
Wow! What a long entry for just two days. I'll end here for now so I can do proper justice to the next 24 hours, especially the meal we had in Little Italy that night (it will be remembered for years to come as one of the best ever) and the other fun happenings that we had in NewYork. More to come...
posted by The Semi-Pro Chef at Thursday, July 14, 2005
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