Maitaitom's New York City Subway Safari
Oct 26th, 2011 | 09:32 AM
#61
Original Poster
Joined: Mar 2003
Posts: 10,645
Likes: 21
DAY FIVE - AROD Sucks, A Walk In The Park, Friends, Strawberry Fields Forever, Membership Has Its Privileges, Walking in The Footsteps of John Paul II, Bottom Of The Rock, Taking The Plunge While Kim & Mary Take A Hike, Hip To Be North Square
When we awoke a little after 6 a.m., we looked at the end of the bed and Charlie was in the exact same position as he had been about seven hours earlier. “He’s either dead or the soundest sleeping cat in the world,” I mused.
On cue, Charlie opened his eyes, stretched and walked to the door. “I need my cat box,” I thought I heard him say. I’m guessing it was the last glass of wine still playing tricks on me from the night before.
Some more muffins and coffee downstairs, and we were back on the subway again, headed for Central Park on a gorgeous Friday morning. Since temperatures were expected to reach 80 over the weekend, we decided to have our stroll today, believing that every New Yorker would be out tomorrow to enjoy the last remnant of summer.
Digression: All week we had navigated the New York subway system thanks to the knowledge of subway guru Kim, who was armed with a guide and sense of direction that never led us astray. Even when we got a little confused, Kim was able to channel his inner Christopher Columbus (although Kim did not slaughter any of the natives) and always lead us in the right direction.
I had picked up a copy of the New York Post, known for its “subtle” headlines. I was reading about the demise of the Yankees when the guy sitting next to me, turned and said, “ARod sucks!” Besides being friendly, New Yorkers also don’t seem to have a problem expressing their opinions. Of course, since I hate ARod (unless in the unlikely event he would become a Padre), I was quick to agree.
Speaking of Columbus, we exited at Columbus Circle and soon we were entering Central Park. We picked up a map from a very nice young lady and walked past a bronze sculpture of Robert Burns, meaning we were at the Literary Walk.
We walked to the overlook of a lovely fountain, and I burst into a rendition of, “I’ll be there for you.” We had been told that this was the fountain where the characters from Friends frolicked in the opening credits. We found out later, the fountain in the TV show was not even located in New York City.
It was already very warm by the time we walked into Strawberry Fields where people kept lying down in a circle to have their pictures taken. “What would John Lennon think?” I asked. One could only “Imagine.”
We took a quick look at the Dakota, where Lennon was assassinated, and then it was a rather long walk through the park to our appointed destination, The Metropolitan Museum Of Art. As Kim got some pointers from the information lady, I paid for all our tickets, and since I spent enough money, I was now a member of the museum and could get a discount on merchandise. I think if I come back to NYC in the next year, I get in for free, too.
Being a member also meant that I could be snootier than the others, so I purposely didn’t talk to anyone in our group for at least five minutes and pretended to actually know more about the paintings than I really did. Walking into the first room after climbing some more stairs (oh boy), I said to Kim, “Wow, this place reminds me of all those cool galleries we saw last night.” I think at this point he was trying to figure out how to get me on the wrong subway when we headed back.
The MET is a place you could spend an entire day…or weekend. One thing I do know about art is that I like a painter by the name of Jacques-Louis David, and in that first room is one of my favorites, The Death Of Socrates. I have liked his paintings ever since I saw The Coronation Of Napoleon in the Louvre (now that I am a member of the MET, I can name drop, too).
We did not get the audio guides for the MET, since we figured if we did, we would spend the rest of our vacation here. After about an hour, we took the elevator to the roof to admire the expansive views over New York City, and then went downstairs to the café for lunch.
After spending about 2 ½ hours (which is about “Museum Maximum Threshold Time” for this group, we started on a little walk through the tony neighborhood that is near the MET. I could almost hear Eva Gabor sing, “Goodbye City Life…” as we looked at the penthouse views. I half-thought Tracy would say, “Darling I love you, but give me Park Avenue.”
St. Patrick’s Cathedral became our next anointed (I mean appointed) stop on the NYC tour. Kim is a big John Paul II fan, and JPII made a couple of appearances here along with many other popes in its history. We spent about 20 – 30 minutes wandering the interior.
Then we scooted over to Rockefeller Center, a place where Tracy’s company has an office. We thought about going up to visit, but after all the insurance money I cost them last year, we decided to lay low. We had also contemplated going to the Top Of The Rock, but by now the crew was dragging, and the Bottom Of The Rock looked fine to us.
We walked by people who were already camping out for Saturday Night Live (taping was still more than 24 hours away). I was going to ask one of them if John Belushi was still funny, but was whisked away by my compatriots before I made more of an ass of myself that I usually do.
When we got back to Chelsea Pines, Kim and Mary said they were going to walk the length of the High Line. My feet looked up at me and immediately nixed that idea. Instead we could go even higher than that beautiful elevated expanse, and more importantly, an elevator would take us there. So after showering, while Kim and Mary finally freed themselves of us to take a hike along the High Line, Tracy and I decided to take the Plunge.
Plunge is actually a rooftop bar atop the Hotel Gansevoort. The reviews of the place said, “Tough guys in T-shirts and gawking tourists bump up against stylish professionals and trendsetters -- all of them drawn by the absolutely stunning views of the Hudson and midtown Manhattan” and “a place where beautiful people meet.”
Well, Tracy and I consider ourselves trendsetters and beautiful people, we’ve been known to be gawking tourists and I own more than one t-shirt, so we thought this is the place for us. It certainly had captivating views, and we drank an incredibly over-priced martini and Manhattan (but worth every dollar of it since we got to sit down) as the sun set. Meanwhile, we looked for Kim and Mary on the High Line, but alas all the “little people” looked the same from that height, so we finally gave up and relaxed (while looking very hip and cool for being the oldest people by far on the rooftop) for about 45 minutes.
Occasionally, Tracy and I have slightly different impressions of a place we visit. She enjoyed her drink and the stupendous vistas, but was not impressed by our server, who she thought was inattentive. She wanted to stiff her a little bit on the tip or at least give her “the look.”
I, on the other hand, enjoyed my drink and the stupendous vistas, but was impressed by our server who I thought was really hot (what, me shallow?). I wanted to tip her my 401k, but saner minds finally compromised on an 18% gratuity (which coincidentally happens to fall exactly in between nothing and my 401k).
We met up with Kim and Mary, and soon we were on our way to Greenwich Village (by subway, of course) for dinner at North Square. This turned out to be our favorite restaurant of the trip, edging out Lucien and The Green Table.
Located on the edge of Washington Square, this is a cool, little New York bistro hat Mary heard used to be an art gallery. We had 8:30 reservations, and although we arrived a tad early (our M.O. for the past couple of nights), we were quickly seated.
For an appetizer, I tried North Square’s signature Tuna Tartare with crushed avocado, ginger cured vegetables in a lemon-lime vinaigrette ($10) that was very tasty. Tracy had the Chile Relleno with crab-meat, red pepper, almonds, yellow mole sauce and queso fresco ($11). So far, the place was a winner.
Kim began with Lobster and Crab Cakes, seaweed and vegetable salad with a Thai curry coconut sauce ($12). Mary tried the Radicchio and Boston Lettuce Salad (Boston, in NYC?) that included roasted beets, goat cheese, honey spiced pecans and blue cheese dressing ($9). Everything had been great so far.
Now it was on to the entrées and they also did not disappoint. I had a great meal of Grazin’ Angus Acres Short Ribs with crispy potatoes, sautéed vegetables and an Asian barbecue sauce ($22). Tracy went for the Slow Roasted Organic Chicken Breast, sautéed wild mushrooms, white truffle polenta cake and an herb au jus ($20).
Kim dined on an Herb-Crusted Rack Of Lamb, grilled asparagus, potato and leek galette with rosemary au jus ($28) while Mary decided on the Pan-Seared Alaskan Halibut, with corn and mushroom couscous and lemon herb sauce ($23). Some delicious French wine and, voilà, a perfect meal for slightly less than $200 (not including tip).
The service at North Square was top notch as was the ambiance. By this time, we were dragging a little more than usual; Kim and Mary because of their long High Line walk; Tom and Tracy due to that extra martini and Manhattan at Plunge.
As we all crawled in to our beds (sadly, Charlie was AWOL), we knew we just had one more full day to see what we had missed so far. We wouldn’t get to everything we had come to see, but as it turned out, we came pretty damned close.
NEXT: DAY SIX – Harlem Shuffle, Home On The Grange, Divine Cathedral, Celebrating Summer’s End, A Frickin’ Great Museum, Eataly Part Deux, Giving Tom The Bird, Just Wynn Baby, Fore, Smoke Gets In My Eyes and In The Chips
When we awoke a little after 6 a.m., we looked at the end of the bed and Charlie was in the exact same position as he had been about seven hours earlier. “He’s either dead or the soundest sleeping cat in the world,” I mused.
On cue, Charlie opened his eyes, stretched and walked to the door. “I need my cat box,” I thought I heard him say. I’m guessing it was the last glass of wine still playing tricks on me from the night before.
Some more muffins and coffee downstairs, and we were back on the subway again, headed for Central Park on a gorgeous Friday morning. Since temperatures were expected to reach 80 over the weekend, we decided to have our stroll today, believing that every New Yorker would be out tomorrow to enjoy the last remnant of summer.
Digression: All week we had navigated the New York subway system thanks to the knowledge of subway guru Kim, who was armed with a guide and sense of direction that never led us astray. Even when we got a little confused, Kim was able to channel his inner Christopher Columbus (although Kim did not slaughter any of the natives) and always lead us in the right direction.
I had picked up a copy of the New York Post, known for its “subtle” headlines. I was reading about the demise of the Yankees when the guy sitting next to me, turned and said, “ARod sucks!” Besides being friendly, New Yorkers also don’t seem to have a problem expressing their opinions. Of course, since I hate ARod (unless in the unlikely event he would become a Padre), I was quick to agree.
Speaking of Columbus, we exited at Columbus Circle and soon we were entering Central Park. We picked up a map from a very nice young lady and walked past a bronze sculpture of Robert Burns, meaning we were at the Literary Walk.
We walked to the overlook of a lovely fountain, and I burst into a rendition of, “I’ll be there for you.” We had been told that this was the fountain where the characters from Friends frolicked in the opening credits. We found out later, the fountain in the TV show was not even located in New York City.
It was already very warm by the time we walked into Strawberry Fields where people kept lying down in a circle to have their pictures taken. “What would John Lennon think?” I asked. One could only “Imagine.”
We took a quick look at the Dakota, where Lennon was assassinated, and then it was a rather long walk through the park to our appointed destination, The Metropolitan Museum Of Art. As Kim got some pointers from the information lady, I paid for all our tickets, and since I spent enough money, I was now a member of the museum and could get a discount on merchandise. I think if I come back to NYC in the next year, I get in for free, too.
Being a member also meant that I could be snootier than the others, so I purposely didn’t talk to anyone in our group for at least five minutes and pretended to actually know more about the paintings than I really did. Walking into the first room after climbing some more stairs (oh boy), I said to Kim, “Wow, this place reminds me of all those cool galleries we saw last night.” I think at this point he was trying to figure out how to get me on the wrong subway when we headed back.
The MET is a place you could spend an entire day…or weekend. One thing I do know about art is that I like a painter by the name of Jacques-Louis David, and in that first room is one of my favorites, The Death Of Socrates. I have liked his paintings ever since I saw The Coronation Of Napoleon in the Louvre (now that I am a member of the MET, I can name drop, too).
We did not get the audio guides for the MET, since we figured if we did, we would spend the rest of our vacation here. After about an hour, we took the elevator to the roof to admire the expansive views over New York City, and then went downstairs to the café for lunch.
After spending about 2 ½ hours (which is about “Museum Maximum Threshold Time” for this group, we started on a little walk through the tony neighborhood that is near the MET. I could almost hear Eva Gabor sing, “Goodbye City Life…” as we looked at the penthouse views. I half-thought Tracy would say, “Darling I love you, but give me Park Avenue.”
St. Patrick’s Cathedral became our next anointed (I mean appointed) stop on the NYC tour. Kim is a big John Paul II fan, and JPII made a couple of appearances here along with many other popes in its history. We spent about 20 – 30 minutes wandering the interior.
Then we scooted over to Rockefeller Center, a place where Tracy’s company has an office. We thought about going up to visit, but after all the insurance money I cost them last year, we decided to lay low. We had also contemplated going to the Top Of The Rock, but by now the crew was dragging, and the Bottom Of The Rock looked fine to us.
We walked by people who were already camping out for Saturday Night Live (taping was still more than 24 hours away). I was going to ask one of them if John Belushi was still funny, but was whisked away by my compatriots before I made more of an ass of myself that I usually do.
When we got back to Chelsea Pines, Kim and Mary said they were going to walk the length of the High Line. My feet looked up at me and immediately nixed that idea. Instead we could go even higher than that beautiful elevated expanse, and more importantly, an elevator would take us there. So after showering, while Kim and Mary finally freed themselves of us to take a hike along the High Line, Tracy and I decided to take the Plunge.
Plunge is actually a rooftop bar atop the Hotel Gansevoort. The reviews of the place said, “Tough guys in T-shirts and gawking tourists bump up against stylish professionals and trendsetters -- all of them drawn by the absolutely stunning views of the Hudson and midtown Manhattan” and “a place where beautiful people meet.”
Well, Tracy and I consider ourselves trendsetters and beautiful people, we’ve been known to be gawking tourists and I own more than one t-shirt, so we thought this is the place for us. It certainly had captivating views, and we drank an incredibly over-priced martini and Manhattan (but worth every dollar of it since we got to sit down) as the sun set. Meanwhile, we looked for Kim and Mary on the High Line, but alas all the “little people” looked the same from that height, so we finally gave up and relaxed (while looking very hip and cool for being the oldest people by far on the rooftop) for about 45 minutes.
Occasionally, Tracy and I have slightly different impressions of a place we visit. She enjoyed her drink and the stupendous vistas, but was not impressed by our server, who she thought was inattentive. She wanted to stiff her a little bit on the tip or at least give her “the look.”
I, on the other hand, enjoyed my drink and the stupendous vistas, but was impressed by our server who I thought was really hot (what, me shallow?). I wanted to tip her my 401k, but saner minds finally compromised on an 18% gratuity (which coincidentally happens to fall exactly in between nothing and my 401k).
We met up with Kim and Mary, and soon we were on our way to Greenwich Village (by subway, of course) for dinner at North Square. This turned out to be our favorite restaurant of the trip, edging out Lucien and The Green Table.
Located on the edge of Washington Square, this is a cool, little New York bistro hat Mary heard used to be an art gallery. We had 8:30 reservations, and although we arrived a tad early (our M.O. for the past couple of nights), we were quickly seated.
For an appetizer, I tried North Square’s signature Tuna Tartare with crushed avocado, ginger cured vegetables in a lemon-lime vinaigrette ($10) that was very tasty. Tracy had the Chile Relleno with crab-meat, red pepper, almonds, yellow mole sauce and queso fresco ($11). So far, the place was a winner.
Kim began with Lobster and Crab Cakes, seaweed and vegetable salad with a Thai curry coconut sauce ($12). Mary tried the Radicchio and Boston Lettuce Salad (Boston, in NYC?) that included roasted beets, goat cheese, honey spiced pecans and blue cheese dressing ($9). Everything had been great so far.
Now it was on to the entrées and they also did not disappoint. I had a great meal of Grazin’ Angus Acres Short Ribs with crispy potatoes, sautéed vegetables and an Asian barbecue sauce ($22). Tracy went for the Slow Roasted Organic Chicken Breast, sautéed wild mushrooms, white truffle polenta cake and an herb au jus ($20).
Kim dined on an Herb-Crusted Rack Of Lamb, grilled asparagus, potato and leek galette with rosemary au jus ($28) while Mary decided on the Pan-Seared Alaskan Halibut, with corn and mushroom couscous and lemon herb sauce ($23). Some delicious French wine and, voilà, a perfect meal for slightly less than $200 (not including tip).
The service at North Square was top notch as was the ambiance. By this time, we were dragging a little more than usual; Kim and Mary because of their long High Line walk; Tom and Tracy due to that extra martini and Manhattan at Plunge.
As we all crawled in to our beds (sadly, Charlie was AWOL), we knew we just had one more full day to see what we had missed so far. We wouldn’t get to everything we had come to see, but as it turned out, we came pretty damned close.
NEXT: DAY SIX – Harlem Shuffle, Home On The Grange, Divine Cathedral, Celebrating Summer’s End, A Frickin’ Great Museum, Eataly Part Deux, Giving Tom The Bird, Just Wynn Baby, Fore, Smoke Gets In My Eyes and In The Chips
Oct 26th, 2011 | 02:06 PM
#64
Joined: Jan 2008
Posts: 1,362
Likes: 0
Really enjoying your report of NYC, Tom! It's a fav US city of ours, and fun to re-live a lot of our experiences there. We were in the northeast of US and Canada at the time you were in NYC, and though we experienced a lot of beauty/culture, it doesn't match the excitement of the Big Apple. That's on our horizon for another visit in spring! We're eagerly awaiting the next chapter of your report, and so happy that you had a great time!
Oct 26th, 2011 | 03:19 PM
#65
Original Poster
Joined: Mar 2003
Posts: 10,645
Likes: 21
" it doesn't match the excitement of the Big Apple."
tomarkot, after spending six nights in NYC, I really don't think anywhere I've ever traveled matches its excitement and energy. The word we all agreed upon as to what describes New York is "electric." Thanks for the comments.
tomarkot, after spending six nights in NYC, I really don't think anywhere I've ever traveled matches its excitement and energy. The word we all agreed upon as to what describes New York is "electric." Thanks for the comments.
Oct 27th, 2011 | 07:15 AM
#68
Joined: Jun 2008
Posts: 31,197
Likes: 0
There once was a girl from Perth
Who lisped and had a wide girth
When she heard that Tom's Tracy
Had driven him crazy
She said "Sad, because I saw him firth"
Just remembered to check the US for your TR. Because you have lived to tell the TR, I'm assuming that the rest of the trip went as well as the first days. OMG, the meals sound wonderful and I can't wait to visit Eataly.
Hub finally bought a compass as we always got turned around coming up from the subway.
We all want to hear about the other 25% of your hospital promises. LOL. Bravo to all who got you back into good enough shape to do this trip. Nothing better than a maitaitom read.
Who lisped and had a wide girth
When she heard that Tom's Tracy
Had driven him crazy
She said "Sad, because I saw him firth"
Just remembered to check the US for your TR. Because you have lived to tell the TR, I'm assuming that the rest of the trip went as well as the first days. OMG, the meals sound wonderful and I can't wait to visit Eataly.
Hub finally bought a compass as we always got turned around coming up from the subway.
We all want to hear about the other 25% of your hospital promises. LOL. Bravo to all who got you back into good enough shape to do this trip. Nothing better than a maitaitom read.
Oct 27th, 2011 | 08:40 AM
#69
Original Poster
Joined: Mar 2003
Posts: 10,645
Likes: 21
"Hub finally bought a compass as we always got turned around coming up from the subway."
Kim was our human compass, but I'll file that good idea away if we ever go back without him.
"We all want to hear about the other 25% of your hospital promises."
Since I hadn't seen sunlight for so long, one thing I repeatedly said (moaned) was, "All I want to do is sit in the backyard and sip an iced tea." Well, since I've been out, I have sat in my backyard, but more times than not I must confess, I have had a glass of wine or martini in my hand, although I have come to like iced tea more than I used to.
Kim was our human compass, but I'll file that good idea away if we ever go back without him.
"We all want to hear about the other 25% of your hospital promises."
Since I hadn't seen sunlight for so long, one thing I repeatedly said (moaned) was, "All I want to do is sit in the backyard and sip an iced tea." Well, since I've been out, I have sat in my backyard, but more times than not I must confess, I have had a glass of wine or martini in my hand, although I have come to like iced tea more than I used to.
Oct 27th, 2011 | 04:34 PM
#71
Joined: Oct 2007
Posts: 2,012
Likes: 0
Tom: I'm seriously glad you all went to NYC, because I'm learning about a lot of things in the city that I probably should have known a long time ago, living only a couple of hours away, and going to the city for weekends countless times!!
So thanks to you all.. and more, please.
So thanks to you all.. and more, please.
Oct 27th, 2011 | 05:19 PM
#72
Original Poster
Joined: Mar 2003
Posts: 10,645
Likes: 21
" because I'm learning about a lot of things in the city that I probably should have known a long time ago.."
I do the same thing with California, Los Angeles and Southern California trip reports on Fodors. I'm always learning something about stuff in my own backyard. Thanks. Now get back to that France report!!!
I do the same thing with California, Los Angeles and Southern California trip reports on Fodors. I'm always learning something about stuff in my own backyard. Thanks. Now get back to that France report!!!
Oct 28th, 2011 | 10:46 AM
#73
Original Poster
Joined: Mar 2003
Posts: 10,645
Likes: 21
DAY SIX – In The Dough, Harlem Shuffle, Home On The Grange, Divine Cathedral, Celebrating Summer’s End, A Frickin’ Great Museum, Eataly Part Deux, Giving Tom The Bird, Just Wynn Baby, Fore, Smoke Gets In My Eyes and In The Chips
Damn, I felt good this morning (must have been that $18 Manhattan), we awoke knowing this was our last day to see what New York City could throw at us. I looked down at my feet and said, “Get moving losers! This is it!”
Charlie greeted me outside our door, and I met Kim downstairs in the lobby. We had made a date to go back to Amy’s Bread in The Chelsea Market to check out their assortment of delectable-looking creations to bring back for the four of us to try for breakfast at the Chelsea Pines.
Obviously, I should have had dessert the previous night, because my sweet teeth (it’s an unusual condition, but I have more than one) began to throb as I looked at the numerous offerings Amy’s had to offer. In a case of stomach-trumps-brain, I ordered a chocolate croissant, a blueberry muffin and a cherry scone.
If that wasn’t bad enough, before anyone could say “heart attack in a bag,” I also ordered a large slice of Red Velvet Cake, the perfect complement to a chocolate croissant. The gigantic latte would help wash it all down quite nicely I rationalized. Kim, on the other hand, ordered a couple of pastries like a normal person would do in that situation.
We approached our wives with our goodies, and as I emptied my bottomless pit of sweets, Tracy said. ”Did we invite another couple this morning?” Mary, forgetting her husband had pole danced on a subway a couple of nights before, turned and gave him a big hug.
We said goodbye to our United Nations’ friends who were aghast by the overconsumption of what they thought were normal Americans, and we were bound for our longest subway journey yet to take a gander at the house where Alexander Hamilton lived for a couple of years before that silly dueling thing. It had just reopened in the past few weeks after being moved to St. Nicholas Park and having some restoration work done on it.
We got off the subway and started walking. We moved to the left, and we moved to the right, and we took it kind of slow with a whole lot of soul. Yeah, we were doing the Harlem Shuffle. Not because we were hip, but because we were old, and our feet weren’t picking up like they were about a week ago.
We arrived at St. Nicholas Park and there was Hamilton Grange, so named to remind Hamilton of his dad’s home in Scotland. The Hamiltons moved into the home in 1802, but only got to enjoy it for a couple of years. Hamilton, of course, was shot in a duel in 1804 by Awon Buww, the man who became famous thanks to the guy who had consumed a peanut butter sandwich without milk. Sometimes I wonder why I even bothered to attend college when such fascinating facts are available through informative commercials.
We went inside and saw some Hamilton artifacts and a short clip on what looked like previews of an upcoming movie on Hamilton’s life (which would be fascinating). Sadly, we had just missed a guided tour of Hamilton Grange, and the next one would not start for an hour. Fearing that some of Aaron Burr’s (Kim set me straight on the name) relatives might show up packing heat, we decided to walk up the stairs through the park (the stairs were become daunting by this time), and then get started on our next adventure of the day.
Getting off the subway at our next stop, I was saddened to see an uphill climb, but fortunately I was excited to visit The Cathedral Church Of St. John The Divine. I was hoping for some divine intervention that would beam me up to the church, but onward we trudged.
Just before we got to the entrance we stopped by a pretty park with some interesting sculptures. We were in the St. John The Divine Cathedral Children’s Garden, and instead of seeing children growing in the garden there were a number of sculptures of Ghandi, Noah’s Ark, Rudyard Kipling and an elephant in the park’s Sculpture Garden. The giant sculpture triumphing “Good Over Evil” (also known as “the Chargers over the Raiders”), is the Peace Fountain. There’s a lot going on in this piece, and we took the artist at his word that Good once again won out at the end.
St. John The Divine Cathedral is one of the largest Christian churches in the world and it been “under construction” since 1892 (sort of like my living room). It is really quite a place to wander around, and the church appreciates donations. The cathedral has a beautiful Rose Window above the main entrance. I was going to light a candle for my feet, but Tracy said that God probably had better things to do on a Saturday morning than to do than worry about my feet.
Jumping (well, none of us were really jumping by this stage of the game) on the subway, we got off at Central Park Midi (not its real name) and made one last walk through Central Park. As we had surmised the previous day, the park was full of families knowing that they would not see weather like this unless they moved to California (yes, a cheap shot).
The spreadsheet was dwindling down to a precious few as we headed toward the Frick Collection (1 East 70th Street). In the tradition of “saving the best for last,” this became the consensus number one spot we visited on our six-day New York City sojourn.
Tickets were $18, and the very informative audio guides were free. For the most part, our favorite types of museums are the ones where you can gain knowledge not only about the art contained within the museum, but historical knowledge about the actual structure and, more importantly, the person behind it. In addition to the audio guides, there was about a 15-minute film on Henry Clay Frick that presented great historical background on the man and is a must for people to get the utmost knowledge about his collection.
Kim went downstairs afterward to see a Picasso exhibit and exiting he said that there a couple of pieces he found interesting, which were two more than either of us had ever seen before. Sorry Picasso, you do not move me.
The lunch hour found us back at Eataly, and what a difference a weekend makes. At about 1:30 on Saturday, the wait for the upstairs restaurant was an hour, and there were long lines at many of the take-out places. Never deterred, Tracy and I found a Focaccia sandwich and a huge slice of pizza, while Kim and Mary went back for another Prime Rib sandwich.
Instead of eating inside the crowded Eataly, we scampered (OK, we’re not scampering by now either) across the street and grabbed a table outside on a day that was now approaching 80 degrees.
Located at the table next to us was an unusual couple, a lady sitting down with a rather sizable green and yellow bird attached to her arm. Looking at me, she said, “Come on over and put him on your arm. He won’t hurt you.”
Forgetting all the prednisone and other drugs I have been taking for the past year that makes my skin easier to tear apart than a flaky croissant, soon there was a bird (a rather heavy bird) sitting on my arm. He wanted to be there just about as much as I wanted him there. After about 20 seconds, Tracy removed the bird from my arm, and sure enough, there was blood from his nasty, little feet (or whatever birds walk on).
Always one to be serious in a crisis, Kim yelled, “Bird flu!” Luckily, there were no Federal agents around to take him into custody for alarming the public (who happened to be laughing at Kim’s humor). Before you could say “Dr. Mary,” our own Florence Nightingale had reached into her purse and deftly pulled out some anti-bacterial ointment and a band-aid. The potential Parrot Parasite epidemic was nipped in the bud (although I have had a craving for crackers ever since this incident).
Since we had seen so many people from so many different parts of the world, it put us in the mood for a quick trip to the United Nations. Some of the subway lines were down for maintenance but by subway and shuttle, we were soon at Grand Central Station, where we walked over to the U.N. For the second time today, we were told we had barely missed the last tour of the day.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
There was no answer.
For a moment I was going to go into my best Adlai Stevenson Cuban Missile Crisis impersonation and say, “I am prepared to wait for my answer until Hell freezes over!”
We did walk over to the Marc Chagall Peace Window that was a 1962 memorial to the Swedish U.N. Secretary General Dag Hammarskjøld who perished in a plane crash in Northern Rhodesia (Zambia) in 1961. The Peace Window was quite beautiful.
Then I heard Kim say, “Let’s get out of the U.N.”
“Who do you think you are,” I answered, “Rush Limbaugh?”
Kim replied, “No you idiot (obviously he had been hanging around Tracy too long). Let’s get out of the U.N. and get back to Chelsea.”
I was done walking unless it was straight to a watering hole. We walked across the street; hailed a nearby cab and about 12 bucks later we were back in Chelsea sitting at the La Bottega Trattoria Bar sipping a well-earned martini and other libations.
As we chatted at the bar with Heather Sellers, author of the book You Don't Look Like Anyone I Know, Tracy looked at me in a peculiar fashion (not uncommon), because someone she didn’t know was closing in on me. Standing directly behind me was a rather strange fellow who for some reason was wielding a golf club. I knew I wasn’t at a Bob Hope USO Show or at The Masters, so this was shaping up to be a weird moment in travel, even for this crew.
Before I could ask him what his handicap was or if he wanted to play through, he said to me, “Buy Wynn on Monday morning.”
I’m guessing the guy was a stockbroker (or Steve Wynn’s crazy nephew), and he kept yammering on how I should buy Wynn stock the first thing on Monday morning. A few days before we had seen an “Occupy Wall Street” march, and now I was in the middle of a “Wall Street Occupies My Bar” moment.
This was also the day that “Just Win, Baby” Al Davis (owner of those “evil” Raiders) passed away. Wynn and Win? Could it be a sign? The dude just kept on talking, and really the only thing I hoped for was that he would leave before putting a divot in the top of my head. Finally, he and his three-wood departed. We all thought he was just a drunk, crazy guy, although Tracy had an inkling he was trying to pick me up.
Digression: Two days later, on Monday afternoon, I was at work when Tracy called and said, “I wonder what Wynn did today?” I checked on my computer and the stock had climbed more than 10 points. “Just Wynn, Baby!”
After our episode, Kim and Mary went looking for a beer while Tracy and I went looking for another martini and a potential spot for dinner. We stopped in at the bar at Pastis (9 9th Avenue), a French bistro we had all walked into a few nights earlier to check out. We had all liked the space, so Tracy and I made reservations for 8 p.m. for the final dinner of the trip.
There are outdoor tables at Pastis that are hard to come by, but we were seated right next to open French doors (well it is a French restaurant), which I thought would be great because (1) this place is deafening so we might be able to hear each other and (2) it was rather warm inside so we might catch a breeze.
The place was loud and the food was good. Tracy started with the Fresh Arugula salad with Parmesan and Lemon ($13).
I had the Soup du Jour, which happened to be Lentil ($10). It was a rather strange choice for me, however when I was hospitalized last year, for some reason Lentil Soup was one of the first things that tasted good to me on my road to recovery. I decided to thank the oft-forgotten Lentil here in NYC, and the soup was quite good.
For dinner, Kim went for the Steak Frites with Béarnaise sauce ($37) and a side of Gratin Dauphinois ($9), otherwise known as scalloped potatoes. All at the table shared his Béarnaise sauce as we dipped our Frites (which is legal in NYC and a few other places in America).
Mary had the Barsteak ($20), while I opted for the Prime Rib Special ($30) with French Fries. However, it was Tracy who would be in heaven with her choice.
It doesn’t sound like a dish that would “wow” you, but Tracy said her Fish and Chips with Tartar sauce ($19) was one of the best thing things she has ever tasted. Taking a bite, I had to concur that these were the best fish and chips I had ever tasted. The fish basically melted in your mouth.
However, by this time, I also had other things on my mind (and in my lungs). I don’t know if someone was smoking out on the patio or if it was just people walking by, but the smoke was getting to me. Before my little ordeal of last year, cigarette smoke never bothered me. As a matter of fact, sometimes it even smelled good to me in a bizarre way.
However, thanks to some lungs that aren’t quite back to snuff, now cigarette smoke is totally annoying to me. By the time, we had paid our check (a little more than 200 bucks after cocktails and vin rouge), we were on the street and I looked like I had just seen Gretel tell Julie Andrews that she hurt her finger in The Sound Of Music. My eyes were tearing up, and I was coughing. Not even a rendition of My Favorite Things could help me now.
The trip was all but finished. Finito. Kaput. Over. Back at the hotel, we petted Charlie good night just in case we didn’t see him in the morning and started packing.
Next: Epilogue – Reflections Of New York City
Damn, I felt good this morning (must have been that $18 Manhattan), we awoke knowing this was our last day to see what New York City could throw at us. I looked down at my feet and said, “Get moving losers! This is it!”
Charlie greeted me outside our door, and I met Kim downstairs in the lobby. We had made a date to go back to Amy’s Bread in The Chelsea Market to check out their assortment of delectable-looking creations to bring back for the four of us to try for breakfast at the Chelsea Pines.
Obviously, I should have had dessert the previous night, because my sweet teeth (it’s an unusual condition, but I have more than one) began to throb as I looked at the numerous offerings Amy’s had to offer. In a case of stomach-trumps-brain, I ordered a chocolate croissant, a blueberry muffin and a cherry scone.
If that wasn’t bad enough, before anyone could say “heart attack in a bag,” I also ordered a large slice of Red Velvet Cake, the perfect complement to a chocolate croissant. The gigantic latte would help wash it all down quite nicely I rationalized. Kim, on the other hand, ordered a couple of pastries like a normal person would do in that situation.
We approached our wives with our goodies, and as I emptied my bottomless pit of sweets, Tracy said. ”Did we invite another couple this morning?” Mary, forgetting her husband had pole danced on a subway a couple of nights before, turned and gave him a big hug.
We said goodbye to our United Nations’ friends who were aghast by the overconsumption of what they thought were normal Americans, and we were bound for our longest subway journey yet to take a gander at the house where Alexander Hamilton lived for a couple of years before that silly dueling thing. It had just reopened in the past few weeks after being moved to St. Nicholas Park and having some restoration work done on it.
We got off the subway and started walking. We moved to the left, and we moved to the right, and we took it kind of slow with a whole lot of soul. Yeah, we were doing the Harlem Shuffle. Not because we were hip, but because we were old, and our feet weren’t picking up like they were about a week ago.
We arrived at St. Nicholas Park and there was Hamilton Grange, so named to remind Hamilton of his dad’s home in Scotland. The Hamiltons moved into the home in 1802, but only got to enjoy it for a couple of years. Hamilton, of course, was shot in a duel in 1804 by Awon Buww, the man who became famous thanks to the guy who had consumed a peanut butter sandwich without milk. Sometimes I wonder why I even bothered to attend college when such fascinating facts are available through informative commercials.
We went inside and saw some Hamilton artifacts and a short clip on what looked like previews of an upcoming movie on Hamilton’s life (which would be fascinating). Sadly, we had just missed a guided tour of Hamilton Grange, and the next one would not start for an hour. Fearing that some of Aaron Burr’s (Kim set me straight on the name) relatives might show up packing heat, we decided to walk up the stairs through the park (the stairs were become daunting by this time), and then get started on our next adventure of the day.
Getting off the subway at our next stop, I was saddened to see an uphill climb, but fortunately I was excited to visit The Cathedral Church Of St. John The Divine. I was hoping for some divine intervention that would beam me up to the church, but onward we trudged.
Just before we got to the entrance we stopped by a pretty park with some interesting sculptures. We were in the St. John The Divine Cathedral Children’s Garden, and instead of seeing children growing in the garden there were a number of sculptures of Ghandi, Noah’s Ark, Rudyard Kipling and an elephant in the park’s Sculpture Garden. The giant sculpture triumphing “Good Over Evil” (also known as “the Chargers over the Raiders”), is the Peace Fountain. There’s a lot going on in this piece, and we took the artist at his word that Good once again won out at the end.
St. John The Divine Cathedral is one of the largest Christian churches in the world and it been “under construction” since 1892 (sort of like my living room). It is really quite a place to wander around, and the church appreciates donations. The cathedral has a beautiful Rose Window above the main entrance. I was going to light a candle for my feet, but Tracy said that God probably had better things to do on a Saturday morning than to do than worry about my feet.
Jumping (well, none of us were really jumping by this stage of the game) on the subway, we got off at Central Park Midi (not its real name) and made one last walk through Central Park. As we had surmised the previous day, the park was full of families knowing that they would not see weather like this unless they moved to California (yes, a cheap shot).
The spreadsheet was dwindling down to a precious few as we headed toward the Frick Collection (1 East 70th Street). In the tradition of “saving the best for last,” this became the consensus number one spot we visited on our six-day New York City sojourn.
Tickets were $18, and the very informative audio guides were free. For the most part, our favorite types of museums are the ones where you can gain knowledge not only about the art contained within the museum, but historical knowledge about the actual structure and, more importantly, the person behind it. In addition to the audio guides, there was about a 15-minute film on Henry Clay Frick that presented great historical background on the man and is a must for people to get the utmost knowledge about his collection.
Kim went downstairs afterward to see a Picasso exhibit and exiting he said that there a couple of pieces he found interesting, which were two more than either of us had ever seen before. Sorry Picasso, you do not move me.
The lunch hour found us back at Eataly, and what a difference a weekend makes. At about 1:30 on Saturday, the wait for the upstairs restaurant was an hour, and there were long lines at many of the take-out places. Never deterred, Tracy and I found a Focaccia sandwich and a huge slice of pizza, while Kim and Mary went back for another Prime Rib sandwich.
Instead of eating inside the crowded Eataly, we scampered (OK, we’re not scampering by now either) across the street and grabbed a table outside on a day that was now approaching 80 degrees.
Located at the table next to us was an unusual couple, a lady sitting down with a rather sizable green and yellow bird attached to her arm. Looking at me, she said, “Come on over and put him on your arm. He won’t hurt you.”
Forgetting all the prednisone and other drugs I have been taking for the past year that makes my skin easier to tear apart than a flaky croissant, soon there was a bird (a rather heavy bird) sitting on my arm. He wanted to be there just about as much as I wanted him there. After about 20 seconds, Tracy removed the bird from my arm, and sure enough, there was blood from his nasty, little feet (or whatever birds walk on).
Always one to be serious in a crisis, Kim yelled, “Bird flu!” Luckily, there were no Federal agents around to take him into custody for alarming the public (who happened to be laughing at Kim’s humor). Before you could say “Dr. Mary,” our own Florence Nightingale had reached into her purse and deftly pulled out some anti-bacterial ointment and a band-aid. The potential Parrot Parasite epidemic was nipped in the bud (although I have had a craving for crackers ever since this incident).
Since we had seen so many people from so many different parts of the world, it put us in the mood for a quick trip to the United Nations. Some of the subway lines were down for maintenance but by subway and shuttle, we were soon at Grand Central Station, where we walked over to the U.N. For the second time today, we were told we had barely missed the last tour of the day.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
There was no answer.
For a moment I was going to go into my best Adlai Stevenson Cuban Missile Crisis impersonation and say, “I am prepared to wait for my answer until Hell freezes over!”
We did walk over to the Marc Chagall Peace Window that was a 1962 memorial to the Swedish U.N. Secretary General Dag Hammarskjøld who perished in a plane crash in Northern Rhodesia (Zambia) in 1961. The Peace Window was quite beautiful.
Then I heard Kim say, “Let’s get out of the U.N.”
“Who do you think you are,” I answered, “Rush Limbaugh?”
Kim replied, “No you idiot (obviously he had been hanging around Tracy too long). Let’s get out of the U.N. and get back to Chelsea.”
I was done walking unless it was straight to a watering hole. We walked across the street; hailed a nearby cab and about 12 bucks later we were back in Chelsea sitting at the La Bottega Trattoria Bar sipping a well-earned martini and other libations.
As we chatted at the bar with Heather Sellers, author of the book You Don't Look Like Anyone I Know, Tracy looked at me in a peculiar fashion (not uncommon), because someone she didn’t know was closing in on me. Standing directly behind me was a rather strange fellow who for some reason was wielding a golf club. I knew I wasn’t at a Bob Hope USO Show or at The Masters, so this was shaping up to be a weird moment in travel, even for this crew.
Before I could ask him what his handicap was or if he wanted to play through, he said to me, “Buy Wynn on Monday morning.”
I’m guessing the guy was a stockbroker (or Steve Wynn’s crazy nephew), and he kept yammering on how I should buy Wynn stock the first thing on Monday morning. A few days before we had seen an “Occupy Wall Street” march, and now I was in the middle of a “Wall Street Occupies My Bar” moment.
This was also the day that “Just Win, Baby” Al Davis (owner of those “evil” Raiders) passed away. Wynn and Win? Could it be a sign? The dude just kept on talking, and really the only thing I hoped for was that he would leave before putting a divot in the top of my head. Finally, he and his three-wood departed. We all thought he was just a drunk, crazy guy, although Tracy had an inkling he was trying to pick me up.
Digression: Two days later, on Monday afternoon, I was at work when Tracy called and said, “I wonder what Wynn did today?” I checked on my computer and the stock had climbed more than 10 points. “Just Wynn, Baby!”
After our episode, Kim and Mary went looking for a beer while Tracy and I went looking for another martini and a potential spot for dinner. We stopped in at the bar at Pastis (9 9th Avenue), a French bistro we had all walked into a few nights earlier to check out. We had all liked the space, so Tracy and I made reservations for 8 p.m. for the final dinner of the trip.
There are outdoor tables at Pastis that are hard to come by, but we were seated right next to open French doors (well it is a French restaurant), which I thought would be great because (1) this place is deafening so we might be able to hear each other and (2) it was rather warm inside so we might catch a breeze.
The place was loud and the food was good. Tracy started with the Fresh Arugula salad with Parmesan and Lemon ($13).
I had the Soup du Jour, which happened to be Lentil ($10). It was a rather strange choice for me, however when I was hospitalized last year, for some reason Lentil Soup was one of the first things that tasted good to me on my road to recovery. I decided to thank the oft-forgotten Lentil here in NYC, and the soup was quite good.
For dinner, Kim went for the Steak Frites with Béarnaise sauce ($37) and a side of Gratin Dauphinois ($9), otherwise known as scalloped potatoes. All at the table shared his Béarnaise sauce as we dipped our Frites (which is legal in NYC and a few other places in America).
Mary had the Barsteak ($20), while I opted for the Prime Rib Special ($30) with French Fries. However, it was Tracy who would be in heaven with her choice.
It doesn’t sound like a dish that would “wow” you, but Tracy said her Fish and Chips with Tartar sauce ($19) was one of the best thing things she has ever tasted. Taking a bite, I had to concur that these were the best fish and chips I had ever tasted. The fish basically melted in your mouth.
However, by this time, I also had other things on my mind (and in my lungs). I don’t know if someone was smoking out on the patio or if it was just people walking by, but the smoke was getting to me. Before my little ordeal of last year, cigarette smoke never bothered me. As a matter of fact, sometimes it even smelled good to me in a bizarre way.
However, thanks to some lungs that aren’t quite back to snuff, now cigarette smoke is totally annoying to me. By the time, we had paid our check (a little more than 200 bucks after cocktails and vin rouge), we were on the street and I looked like I had just seen Gretel tell Julie Andrews that she hurt her finger in The Sound Of Music. My eyes were tearing up, and I was coughing. Not even a rendition of My Favorite Things could help me now.
The trip was all but finished. Finito. Kaput. Over. Back at the hotel, we petted Charlie good night just in case we didn’t see him in the morning and started packing.
Next: Epilogue – Reflections Of New York City
Oct 28th, 2011 | 07:53 PM
#76
Joined: Jan 2003
Posts: 84
Likes: 0
Maitaitom: Digging your trip report. Seriously digging it. But especially your report of dinner at North Square. Why? Because of probably over 5000 possible dinner choices in NYC, that's precisely the place I picked (long before reading your report) for our upcoming Thanksgiving-day dinner while visiting NYC over the holidays! Thanks for your great trip report! We love NYC, too, although have never previously been there over the holidays. David.
Oct 29th, 2011 | 10:31 AM
#79
Original Poster
Joined: Mar 2003
Posts: 10,645
Likes: 21
Thanks David. I also went through a lot of potential dinner places before choosing the few I did. North Square really hit the mark on all counts, and I hope you guys have as good a time (and meal) as we did. Have a great trip!
