We flew to NYC for my birthday week, arriving just in time for cocktails with Claudia and Chele, our gracious hosts. Who gave me gifts (Thank You) and a gift card to shop at Bloomingdales (I did serious damage to the card plus some)! C&C rented a 2 bedroom apartment on 44th street and 3rd for the entire month of May to get that true NYC experience, where you can walk outside and be right in the action, catch a play anytime you want, listen to live music, check out the amazing galleries and museums, etc. You know, the cliche brown bag with the baggette and carrot sprigs poking out, or in their case a fine bottle of Cabernet and some tasty cheese!
In the flurry of our first full day we took in Grand Central Station,
walked across the street and placed a few bets at the OTB hole in the wall - Chele had won 5 clams the day before. C&C then cabbed us all down to Soho (note: cabs now take credit cards and it's so easy!) to their favorite dive bar, "MiLady's" where we threw back some cold beer and wings, then walked down the cobble stone streets of Soho checking out couture boutiques. Barbara bought me a gorgeous tension set diamond necklace at Teno and we had a Famous Persons sighting when we crossed paths with Keith Urban and Nicole Kidman, who strolled past us at a fast clip, arm and arm. We finished the night off in a quaint french jazz club-bistro on St. Mark's street called
Jules (check it out), where the waiter barely spoke English and the garlic snails were to die for...or so the others said, since I was grossed out and just sopped up the juice with the delicious bread, followed by superb sips of red wine. Two bottles later and all warm and happy we cabbed it back up to 44th and slept like worn out pups after a fox hunt.
Day two was my birthday and I think I had a subliminal mission to shop till we dropped, and we did. Shuttling our butts back down to Soho we combed through the stores picking up new Tretorn (just like Ellen DeGeneres wears) sneakers from the flagship store, New Addidas for Barb, a slew of T-shirts from True Religion, all while consuming adult beverages.
As the sun was setting our bellies were craving authentic Italian, so we sauntered a few blocks south to Little Italy, where the Feast of Saint Anthony's was in full swing with a street fair, a live marching band playing the theme to the God Father, dark hairy men in velour jump suits the size of Pavarotti arguing in front of a Mobster bar, and of course outdoor seating where the sounds, smells, and people all add to the great NYC ambiance. The food was simple. Barbara had spaghetti and meatballs and I ordered the baked ziti. I promise you I've never tasted anything better!
Day three started with Claudia and I hiking up to Central Park for a landscape painting lesson with an odd man who painted on our canvases, smearing our pretty work into muddy backdrops. He would go from my canvas to hers and say, "Well Look At You!" and then grab my brush and smudge everything up. It was actually quite fun despite his idiosyncrasies and the damp cold, I would recommend everyone try it at least once in their life. Needing to warm our hands and shake off the chill we walked over to Sarah Beth's where I
had a hot bowl of the best creamy tomato soup, full of chunks and parmesan cheese. Chele and Barbara had a meeting in Rye Brook NY and returned just in time for cocktails at the "Wheeltapper". They kept the limo and we had him drive us down to Chelsea to gallery hop, afterwich we grabbed a bite in Hell's Kitchen at the "Eatery" where the food pictured here was delectable.
The next day we booked a room at the
Soho House, (check it out) an eclectic London boutique hotel in (check it out)
MPD - The Meat Packing District . It was the coolest hotel room I've ever stayed in from an artsy standpoint. Large windows looking over the street in a 750 sq. foot loft space with a thick oval tub standing in the room, a zen like shower, modern sink and fixtures, soft robes and sofa seating, not to mention a bar stocked with Patron, Grey Goose and Makers Mark. If you haven't been to the MPD while visiting NYC, you are so missing out. Granted it's very upscale, big name couture shops like Stella McCartney's, thin gorgeous models sashaying up and down the streets, and yes we had another celebrity sighting and spotted Eli Manning checking into our hotel. The best thing about Soho House is the rooftop pool bar, where the europeans and wealthy NYers hang out to people watch, grab a spring tan, and imbibe in some mixed drinks. After a drink at the pool we hiked all over the village. I took Barbara to my favorite Falafel place, "Mamouns" just off Washington Square Park near NYU. If you ever go to the village you must, I repeat, must go to
Mamouns. You'll thank me after, promise.
Later that night we ate at "
Vento (check it out)" across the street, again snagging a great sidewalk table. We truly enjoyed the food and the two shots of espresso - badly needed to give us the boost to go run around the village on our last night. The coffee jacked us up and off we ran to "
The Duplex" on 7th Ave and Christopher Street, across from the memorial "
Stonewall Riots" park where an aging, drunk, gay man insisted we study the statues and listen to his rendition of the heinous crime scene and charged us a dollar for this oration. Minutes later police raided the park and scooted off the loiters and whatever else was lurking in the bushes. We jammed into the upstairs Duplex cabaret bar where we somehow got front row seats to a strange act where a girl belted out show tunes and told boring stupid stories. We clapped loud when she ended and scooted downstairs where the real action takes place in the main bar. Just like 20 years ago, the bar was packed, the piano player was loud, and people stood on stage and took their turns singing their hearts out. Our favorite was the blonde waitress who got the crowd to sing "All the single girls" Beyonce song. We had so much fun we practically closed the joint.
The next morning we chugged our tired butts across the street to the diner and wolfed down some eggs and bacon, hot coffee and toast. We had an hour to kill so we watched a photo shoot and did a little more shopping.
In the limo riding back to the airport we were sad to leave, discussed turning around, as we always do, but decided it would be too hard booking 1st class seats on another plane, thus forcing us to keep our flight plans and head back to Dallas.
And ya know, when you get home and see your cats and sleep in your own bed, you realize thats where you really love being the most. The shiny objects, pretty people, newness and strangeness of exotic trips are all great, but the best warm fuzzy feelings always come from your own home.
