There’s nothing like spending a day in New York.
When Nicholas and Allen came to visit us for Easter weekend, we took the train into the city to meander and soak up the ambience.
Our first destination was The Museum of Modern Art. It was crowded, but this is the nature of a museum on a Saturday, and I was comforted by the fact that people had paid to see art. Memorable pieces for me included: the Jacob Lawrence exhibit, a chilling video of Billie Holiday singing “Strange Fruit,” Van Gogh’s “Starry Night,” Picasso’s “Three Musicians,” Rauschenberg’s “The Bed,” Andrew Wyeth’s “Christina’s World,” Joseph Cornell’s “Central Park Carrousel,” and Monet’s “Water Lillies.” I loved being there with friends who didn’t care that I cried in front a painting, no matter how ‘famous’ it was. Thank you, gentlemen.
After a few hours in the museum, we were hungry, so we ventured next to Teodora, a restaurant that Nick remembered from his childhood. Any time Nicholas recommends anything that has to do with food or drinks, Benjamin and I follow without question. The man knows.
But before I describe the absolutely delicious food we ate, I need to set the stage. Walking into Teodora was like opening the door to a sweet grandmother’s house…a sweet, best-kind-of- grandma’s house with portraits of relatives on the wall, all kinds of collections of things— decorative plates, empty spice jars, knic knacks, and a fully stocked bar. (Ok, so all grandmas might not have bars, but my great grandmother hid her “medicine” in her dresser drawer, so I dedicate that last observation to her). Anyway, it was fantastic to walk into this quiet, quaint neighborhood place and get seated at a corner table.
And the food! Nick didn’t even need to look at a menu. He ordered the Lasagna All’Emiliana. Allen followed suit, because as he joked, he’d been “hearing about this lasagna for four years,” and he needed to see just how good it was. My friends were not disappointed. What arrived on their plates was not like any lasagna I had ever seen. It was art. These perfect squares were stacked high with copious layers of thin, ruffly noodles and meat, encircled with a thick sauce and shredded basil. Truly gorgeous and traditional presentation, or as one NYT magazine food critic wrote: “the lasagne is a fine example of the meat-and-pasta casserole before it was infiltrated by vegetables, seafood, and every other misguided newfangled variation.” Heh heh…something about this critic’s word choice makes me grin.
Benjamin ordered the Strozzapreti Con Salsiccia E Peperoni Arrostiti, or in English, ‘rolled short strips of pasta with roasted Italian sausage and peppers in a tomato sauce.’ Oh yes, I had a taste, and oh yes, it was divine!
My dish, the Fazzoletto Di Ricotta E Spinachi, or ‘triangle shaped pockets filled with ricotta cheese and spinach in a butter and sage sauce’ was outstanding! Such fresh pasta, rich and creamy! Decadence!
We lingered over smokey espressos, and when we were rested, we set out again for Central Park. Ah, people watching on a Spring day in New York! Ah, swirl of international languages around my ears soothing me past English! Ah, so many breeds of pedigree dogs and outlandish fashionistas! New York, New York, you are truly one of a kind.
I must devote a paragraph now to how it was to walk with Nicholas in the city. Our architect friend has a brain for history and a heart for Romanticism. I asked him to recall some of the buildings, and he sent me the following descriptions of what we saw: “the riotously yellow Babylonian skyscraper known as the Fred F. French building, the Lipstick Building, the Helmsley building (formerly known as the Grand Central Building), the horrendous Pan Am Building, the black and bronze Seagram Building, and the gloriously green, cool Lever House.” He added that he thought, “Architecture is the greatest job in the world.” True to his passion, Nicholas made us look up, and we loved it.
From Central Park, we slowly made our way back to Grand Central Station to The Campbell Apartment, one of the hipster bars Benjamin had heard about from his colleagues. This place has been described as one of New York’s “most refreshingly civilized places to meet” where you can get “classic cocktails & light fare in the ornate Grand Central offices of a 1920’s mogul.” Oh, how I wished for a fringe flapper dress in that joint! Speakeasy is the trend, I know, but again, it was nice to be with friends who didn’t care if we were doing something “popular” or not. The cocktails were a welcome treat after all our urban hiking, and simply sitting there, enjoying jazz and one another’s company was an ideal way to end the day.
Thank you, gentlemen, thank you.
