Local, Surprising, Crazy

I am one of those non-New Yorker New Yorkers that feels  a connection to NYC, as it is the closest major metropolitain area to where I live;  the hinterlands of Long Island.  It is not the actual place that I live, but I spend a lot of time in New York and the boroughs.  I have a deep appreciation for its vitality, energy and exceptional food and drink. However, this does not make me a New Yorker.  And there are those that might remind me of this with taunts and names, such as "Bridge and Tunnel".  I get it, I get it.   To you, I am an invader. A poser.  A carpetbagger in the place where you actually lay your head at night, every night and where you wage war each day with all of the ridiculous and sublime that NYC has to offer.

As something of a theater nerd, we see a lot of shows, both on and off Broadway.  This weekend, we were in the city to see an off-Broadway production at the Minetta Lane Theater.  It wasn't a play, but a reading of a screen play, by Billy Crystal, called "Have a Nice Day", which was was being recorded for Audible.  The Minetta Lane Theater is a small, intimate theater in a far corner of the East Village, just bordering on the West Village.  The performance was terrific.  It included many famous faces, such as Annette Benning, Kevin Klein (who was valiantly battling a head cold), Rachel Dratch, Justin Bartha (the fried groom from the Hangover) and a collection of talented comedy players.

We found parking on East 9th Street and planned to walk through Washington Square Park, something neither of us had done in about 25 years.  We had an early dinner reservation at Minetta Tavern and we shuffled through the park in a hurry, as neither of us had eaten since breakfast.  Still, in spite of our hurry, I could not help but appreciate the beauty of the arch, the central fountain and the dog park on the far end, filled with fluffy pups of every size and variety.  It was crowded, unseasonably warm and truly beautiful.

Central fountain. Washington Sq Park.

Looking toward the Freedom Tower from the West end of Washington Sq Park

We walked up to MacDougal Street and hooked a left toward Minetta Tavern, tummies rumbling and anticipation building.  As we headed down MacDougal, a tall, dirty and very agitated man came stomping up the pavement toward us.  He was yelling something that I could not make out at first and when we got close enough to him, I could see that he was shoving people out of his way.  Intentionally walking between couples and shoving them apart at the shoulders to clear a path for himself.  As he careened toward us, I tried to move to my left in order to separate from my husband and create a clear path for him, but his arms were long enough that once he got to us, he was able to shove us both on the shoulders and yell "Excuse me!".  I was in something of a state of shock.  A stranger had put his hands on me in an agressive way.  I looked down and caught a glimpse of my feet.  I was wearing pointy toed boots.  I was suddenly over come with a need to kick him squarely between the legs. I went from shock to anger in the blink of an eye, once I had composed myself long enought to play back the fact that a crazy, dirty old creep had put hands on me. I turned back to look for him and he had already gone a block and a half past us, making his way into the park.

Your garden variety crazy old guy

I thought through the scenario in my head.  What if I had chased him down and kicked him?  What would have happened?  Would he have tried to kill me? Would it have worked out in any kind of positive outcome?  No. Definitely not.  Shaken up and still a bit stunned, we went in to Minetta Tavern and had a couple of cocktails at the bar, while we waited for our table.  By the time they seated us, I had settled enough to remember how hungry I was.  Food was flying by us, looking good and smelling good.

Confit Duck Leg on Parsnip Puree

We started with a confit leg of duck before our main dishes of steak frittes and pork chop.  My appetite was strong, so I didn't wait to take a picture of my steak.  I just dug in.  It was topped with a disc of garlic butter and it was insanely good.  We ended our meal with a three way Pot de Creme (chocloate, coffee, vanilla), that was so delicious, I wanted to lick the ramekins.  At this point, our encounter with Captain Crazy, was fading a little and I finally felt settled.

This was the first negative encounter that I have had with anyone in NYC in what may be a thousand visits.  There is no overstatement in that number as I worked in Manhattan for a few years and I have been back for personal  reasons once  or twice a month over the past 10 years.  I'm not saying that I have never had someone yell things at me or aggressively panhandle, but I have never been physically assaulted like that.  Will this encounter change my love for NYC or my willingness to go in and just hang around?  Not in the slightest. In my opinion, that could have happened in any gathering where there are a large number of people.  It did not have to happen in the city.  It could have been anywhere. I will not change a single thing about the way I live my life. I will defiantly continue to be an New York City interloper, carpetbagger and Long Island Railroad riding Bridge and Tunnel Bitch.  Except, I am probably going to invest in a pair of steel tipped boots.

Have a Nice Day Playbill

Cast of Have a Nice Day

Washington Square Arch

Anatomy of an Unintentional NYC Wine Crawl

As we age, the ability to entertain my husband and I has narrowed to a scant sliver.  Throw in the fact that we want to be in Italy every day of the year and aren't and you get two generally cranky and irritable people that need a lot of wine to be tolerable. This was the reason behind my husband's Christmas gift this year.  My gift to him was a wine and cheese tasting at Murray's Cheese Shop in Greenwich Village and a night at the Marriot Marquis in Times Square.

We took the day off work on Friday and got an early start into Manhattan.  We live about 60 miles away from NYC, so the trip is about an hour, depending on traffic.  During this trip, my husband was on the phone with work for the duration. Somehow he manages to keep his call going inside the midtown tunnel, amazingly he kept yacking away, red-faced with stress and frustration.  When he finally got off the phone, I turned to him and said in my best (terrible) Nicholson impression "You need a lot of drinks...to kill the bug that you have up your ass." He didn't disagree.

After checking in to the hotel, we grabbed an Uber and went further west of 45th st and Broadway toward 9th and 44th. We would have walked but it was bitterly cold and windy.  Problem was that at 4PM on a Friday on the West side of Manhattan, everyone and their Aunt Sadie is trying to get the hell out of there.  The tunnel based mass exodus makes the traffic on the West side an absolute crawl. Once the driver had us sufficiently West of the Times Square area, we jumped out and hoofed if for two blocks to get to an adorable place called Gallo Nero, a pint sized Italian wine bar in Hell's Kitchen.

This is what I look for in a wine bar.  An espresso machine. Helps keep up the stamina while the wine does its level best to put me to sleep.

Sustenance is key to a long bar crawl.  If you try to make it on an empty stomach, you won't be vertical past 8PM.  For starters, I like a sled of meat with a chaser of good bread and olive oil.  Our wine selection - Me: Pinot Bianco  Him: Cabernet Sauvignon

MmmmmMortadella

 Our next location was Murray's Cheese Bar.  Murray's is a wine and cheese bar in the west village, two doors down from the Murray's retail cheese shop location, where our class was being held.  In advance of a wine and cheese tasting, what do you order to nibble on? Cheese of course. But not just any cheese Buratta mmmmmmmm (Sorry, I can't say burrata or mortadella without making a yummy noise).

Me: Sauvignon Blanc  Him: Nero De Avola

We sat for a long time waiting for our Burrata, long enough to polish off our wine.  When the waiter came by we mentioned our missing cheese and they kindly enough, gave us another glass of wine on the house.  The burrata came shortly after.  By 6:20 we needed to giddyup to the Wine and Cheese tasting.  On to Murray's Cheese Shop, where we were greeted by this:

I cannot name a single wine or cheese that we tried.  I did not take notes as I had a glass in my writing hand at all times.

The thing about having wine before you have wine is that it takes away all inhibitions.  So when the instructor asked us what we smelled in the second white that we tried, my preposterous answer was "European Petrol" which turned out to be both accurate and "astute" (I would say buzzed or tipsy, but to each his own).

Class wrapped up around 8:00 PM so we grabbed another Uber and went east to Via Della Pace on 7th street near 2nd Ave.  This is our regular spot in NYC.  We spent a couple of hours here. I may have had a glass of wine.  I definitely had an espresso (and burnt my gullet because I didn't wait for it to cool) and a shot of limoncello.  My husband told me that I had Lasagna Bolognese.   I am going to have to believe him. 

An icy shot of Limoncello is the traditional parting gift at VDP.  Love the Italian hospitality.

We ended up here.  It was at this point that I started drinking seltzer like my life depended on it.  Not my husband though.  He went on to have some Sake.  Might be why he thought "Jesus of Suburbia" was a good choice for Karaoke.  It's a looooooooong freakin song, but the bar was packed with a crazy cross section of people that made it fun and interesting and a great way to end the evening.  

By the time we got back to the hotel it was after 2:00 am. We got out of the cab and my husband took off toward Times Square.  I assumed he was off for a cheesy selfie amidst the glittering lights, but I was wrong.  He returned back with some street meat on a stick and a couple of bottled waters.  I refused his offer to share the mystery meat, but happily took the water.  It was an epic night out and as I tucked in for a much needed sleep, I was thankful that we make it a point to take advantage of our proximity to NY.  By this point, "Jesus of Suburbia" was already asleep.