Ahhh NYC

I love my rural paradise. Really, I'm grateful for the green land and the fresh air and the slow(er) pace. But sometimes there's a disconnect between my inner metropolitan vibe and the space around me. After growing up in semi-urban New Jersey, I struggled with the transition to the Midwest. I've grown to love it -- it's now how I define myself. Yet, as any immigrant knows, there's always a deep part of your heart that cannot abandon the roots which grounded and shaped you from the start.

I'm lamenting as I am finishing up a surprise birthday weekend in Manhattan (without children; props to the husband!)... I'm not wanting to return to the routine & the hustle and bustle of my life. You should understand something about the anxiety of my days if the streets of Manhattan are calm in comparison.

Allow me to reminisce as I jostle around in a yellow cab on the way back to LaGuardia.


Le Bernardin. Friday night.
Eric Ripert is Poseidon. Every morsel of his is otherworldly.
The tuna carpaccio draped over foie gras and toast -- I will never forget this.


Green market at Union square. Saturday morning.
Makes Ann Arbor's farmer market look malnourished. I shouldn't covet what I don't have, but the bank of gourmet farmers and producers is clearly more abundant here than back home. Feeling the need to support some seller, but not needing fresh produce, we share a cup of raspberry cider.


ABCkitchen. Saturday brunch.
Ramp and goat cheese toast. Spring pea soup. Frites tossed with herbs and sliced garlic aside a mushroom panini. Wild mushroom pizza. Authentic farm to table in the middle of the city chaos.



Del Posto. Saturday dinner.
Mario Batali dresses up the rustic regional Italian flavors in the setting of an elegant 1920-30s dining room. It's Mario in a tuxedo. Highlights of the evening are seeing the Man himself, orange clogs and all. My father, declaring there's nothing to lose at 67, shouts out to him even though he clearly is not in the frame of mind to talk to the common people. Instead we are offered a kitchen tour by the chef de cuisine. An amazing way to end a birthday meal.

Bouchon bakery. Sunday morning.
Raspberry almond Croissants for breakfast and TKOs -Thomas Keller Oreos- for the little ones back home.

Eataly. Sunday late morning.
More Mario. An Italian marketplace in Madison Square Park. Although I wish I could shop there every week, I realize that between Zingerman's, Plum market, Morgan and York, and Cantoro's in Livonia, I can have this all back home. That doesn't stop me from buying loaves of bread and jars of capers to bring home for my babies.

Yep, those are all mushrooms..

(finally) street food. Sat and sunday mornings. Jefferson market. Madison square market (running from 5/6-6/1) pizza, shaved ice with homemade cherry syrup. And last but not least, a gyro at Columbus circle for Saturday lunch. Heaven.

Location:W 32nd St,New York,United States