Swinging Manhattan

Not, of course, that type of swinging but while looking through some photos I took on my Iphone a few months ago, I remembered some of my favourite music-themed nights out this year which haven't made it onto this blog yet.

A picnic in Central Park is by far my favourite summer past-time. I love the hive of activities that Sheep Meadows becomes as soon as the first rays of sunshine appear. Finding an empty spot, as well as navigating your way through flying frisbees and other airborne implements, can be quite a challenge. But one that I do not mind.

Marie, Larry, Caroline and I had our first picnic in the park back in April on one of the first truly beautiful weekends of the year. Everyone will tell you that it is illegal to drink alcohol in Central Park and if caught, you will be fined. So far, it is a risk that we have been more than prepared to take and we had a wonderful afternoon, whiling away the hours chatting, laughing, eating and, of course, sipping wine.

As the evening dawned, Larry and Caroline decided to go home but Marie and I were of course still full of energy and she took me to the skate circle. I had never been before - it's an area of the park where groups of roller bladers congregate every weekend and dance until late at night. At first, we sat on a patch of grass and watched in awe as the skaters swirled and jumped. But it wasn't long before everyone there, whether skaters or spectators, started to dance together and a couple of guys dragged Marie and I into head spinning routines, the kind of old-fashioned couple dancing that I do with my dad at every family parties. I'm not exactly sure but I think that we stayed there and danced non-stop for four or five hours, amazed at how friendly, fun and eclectic the crowd was.

I am a huge fan of little Jimmy Scott, the 84 years old Jazz vocalist whose amazing and almost feminine voice combined with his physical frailty bring me to tears whenever I see him perform.

His live performances are very far and few between now because of his age and ailing health but I was lucky enough to see him at the Dizzy Jazz club at Columbus Circle when I moved here in 2007 and when he came back for a brief stint at the same venue back in April this year, I jumped at the chance and took along music-loving D, who I knew would enjoy it as much as I would.

Little Jimmy did not disappoint even though his set was much shorter than it was even two years ago with just four songs. But he delivered them with such emotional intensity that it sent shivers down my spine and made the evening even more special for me. The venue itself only added to the experience as its huge floor to ceiling windows overlook Central Park and 59th glittering in the night.

I really like Razorlight - to me, they are very much the epitome of alternative British rock bands: skinny lead singer, dodgy hairstyles, but with solid beats and occasionally thought provoking lyrics.

While they are big in the UK and would normally play at venues the size of Wembley stadium, they are pretty much unknown in the US and Libs, Marie and I got the chance to see them at the Hiro Ballroom, a smallish club in the basement of the Maritime Hotel on the edge of the Meat Packing district.

There were probably no more than a hundred or so people packed in the venue and unsurprisingly, they all seemed to be British. We perched up on the stairs leading to the balcony which afforded us fantastic views of the stage and the band. The atmosphere was electric as they played their original hits ("In America" and "In the morning") alongside tracks from their latest album "Golden Touch" .... and while we may have been feeling too old for the mosh pit, it didn't stop us from jumping up and down and head bang like a bunch of teenage groupies!

Outer Borough

Just when I thought, especially after relentlessly pounding its now familiar streets with my sister over the past week, that I had pretty much seen everything there was to see in the City, an outer borough excursion showed me that New York as a whole has so much more to offer and plenty of surprises still in store for me.

Laurie and I headed to Brighton Beach, at the very end of the Q line in Brooklyn, this past Sunday. It is better known as "Little Odessa" because its patchwork of residents are primarily from former Soviet Union territories such as the Ukraine and Latvia. We landed in a bustling market street as soon as we exited the subway, filled with people shoving each other (and us) out of the way to get to the best fresh produce and haggling for them in Russian. In fact, we hardly heard any English being spoken ... the journey from the Upper West Side may have only been 20 miles but culturally we were thousands of miles away and I regretted not learning how to say "hello" and "thank you" in Russian ahead of time (the two expressions I always make a point of learning in the native language of whichever country I am visiting).

After fighting our way through busy Brighton Beach Avenue, we opted to have lunch at Cafe Glechik, a traditional eaterie frequented almost exclusively by Russian locals. We sampled a plate of pickled vegetables (incredibly garlicky and including pickled watermelon which was surprising to say the least), pork Pelmini and potatoes and mushrooms Vareniki (both are types of dumplings) to the nostalgic sounds of gypsy music - making the experience even more "out of this world", especially when the bill came to just $7 per person for what was a very generous meal.

We walked off lunch by heading towards the sea and the boardwalk which leisurely stretches to Coney Island. The latter has never been on my list of places to see - I had very low expectations and anticipated a run-down and tacky amusement park, possibly full of shady characters.
But perhaps it was the strolling in the sea on the way there (which made me feel on holiday), or the brilliant sunshine or maybe the company (Marie and her friend L had joined us by then) ... whatever it was, I was won over by Coney Island.
Sure it is indeed a little tacky with its arcades and fun rides and there are plenty of colourful characters meandering about, but it all made for fantastic people watching. It was also surprisingly clean and friendly and I loved the small booths lining the boardwalk, each playing different types of music that people danced to in broad daylight without an ounce of self-consciousness. My favourite was the open air karaoke which made American Idol's worst contenders almost sound talented. A bumpy ride on the Wonder Wheel was (quite literally as it stands 150ft tall) the high point of our visit as it offered unbeatable views of the Ocean on one side and the distant Manhattan skyline on the other.

I may well have become one of those annoying Manhattanites who dread leaving the safety and familiarity of their tiny island, but after this taste of an almost entirely different universe I am more determined than ever to stop whinging about the long subway rides and absence of taxis and get to the business of seriously exploring New York's more culturally authentic boroughs.

* While the "shoot the freak" photo may alarm some of you, fear not - it's only a paintball game ... catchy name though.

Memory Bank

My sister is visiting from France for two weeks and, as previously mentioned on this blog, there is nothing I love more than having people staying over and making the most of the City with them. It makes me fall in love with New York a little more every time.

Laurie and I are actively building up a pretty cool memory bank of experiences together ...

Visiting the Frank Lloyd Wright exhibition at the Guggenheim with Libs ...

Followed by oysters at Ocean Grill.

 

Fighting our way through the crowds at the first Japanese street fair hosted in NYC ....

And chilling out at Cipriani's in Grand Central afterwards, the calm and serenity of which still amaze me to this day.

A stroll through wonderfully tiny Chelsea Market ...

And walking the High Line on a perfectly balmy evening.

Cutting shapes to Britney Spears' "Womanizer' at Madison Square Gardens with a bunch of girlfriends.

And enjoying amazing bruschetta alfresco with some chilled Pinot Grigio at Oscar in Soho last night.

Transient City

As I attended not one but two farewell parties this weekend, I was reminded of the transient nature of New York City. Both friends felt their time was up - one is moving back to London while the other has decided to try his luck in Thailand and enjoy a more sedate lifestyle for a while.

I believe that transience is quite unique to New York and an intrinsic part of the social dynamics in the sense that it changes the way friendships are formed (and perhaps one could argue also the volatile nature of romantic relationships). I met most of my friends here through shared UK connections - it is very natural for people to meet up with friends of friends if they have just moved to the City and quickly include them in their own social group. There is a common acknowledgment that the City can be a big and daunting place if you don't know anyone. It makes building new friendships in the City a much faster process but it also creates a fairly tight knit expat community as I am finding now that a lot of my friends here are British.

It is with a little sadness that I am facing this first wave of departures but I also have long been preparing myself for it. As with any expatriate community, a lot of people have no real sense of how long they will be staying in their new adopted City. But I also know first hand that true friendships can withstand geographical distances.

At least, goodbye parties make for memorable evenings. K's party on Saturday night was a pretty wild affair - we started with drinks at Madame X, a small and dark Soho bar modeled after a bordello with crimson walls and odd paintings on the walls, before hopping in a taxi to Fat Baby. We danced relentlessly until four o'clock in the morning and although I paid the price for it dearly the next day, I still have the awesome beats of DJ Kool's "Let me clear my throat" running through my head and putting a smile on my face two days later!

On the other hand, S had opted for a relaxed dinner gathering on Sunday night to bide her farewell to New York. A group of about ten of us went to Public, which may well become one of my new staple restaurants in Noho. We opted for the amazing Sunday tasting menu and were in for a little surprise ... The restaurant was primarily filled with the head chef's friends (who happen to include the actress Julia Stiles who was sitting at the table next to us) for a special screening of his appearance on Iron Chef America, where he won the challenge ... with the exact menu we had just sampled!

The Lover

One of the things people most often ask me about my life in New York is what dating really is like in the City.

The thing is that I don't really do dating. Primarily because I seem to only possess an on/off relationship switch with nothing in between - I either fall in love (which has only happened to me twice) or I just want very casual fun. In the latter instances, I am terrifyingly commitment phobic and basically run away before anything even resembling a relationship can materialize.

But in the anthropological experiment that is New York City I recently met a strange and rare species, the Relationship Guy, and somehow fell into the dating trap. I certainly fought against it and most of my friends only know him by the nickname I gave him from the start: "The Lover". But I enjoyed his company and therefore decided to at least try for a change .... or my own dysfunctional interpretation of trying anyway.

I was very clear and honest with him from the start about what this was for me - I wanted to keep seeing him but I didn't want us to be a couple. I found excuses not to meet his friends and never gave him the opportunity to meet mine. I usually only made time for him in my schedule once a week, normally after I had already been out with my friends (I believe the technical term is "booty call" - ha ha ha) and I turned down his offers of doing couple things - even when they included innocuous activities like going to the cinema together.

Despite what should have been obvious warning flags, the Lover moved very quickly through the relationship cycle all by himself and much to my horror and panic. A few hours after we first met and upon telling him that I was here on a visa, he made me google the words "Green Card". By our 3rd meeting, he was telling me how much he wanted to meet my family. By the 5th, he told me he was in love with me (I completely freaked out) and by the 6th I had to have the cliche and awkward "it's not you, it's me" conversation.

Even after that, he stuck around with the patience of a Saint or perhaps more accurately that of a mad man. And at the exact point when I was wondering whether I should give him a proper chance or end it once and for all, he went from Relationship Guy (albeit a scarily intense version of him) straight to your garden variety New York man - he stopped calling and basically vanished into thin air with no explanation.

I felt relieved that everything came to an end without anyone's heart being broken. Neither his as, despite his grand words he knew exactly what was going on and I am convinced that I did not hurt his feelings - I was on the wrong side of unrequited love once and would never wish it on my worst enemy, let alone put someone through it knowingly. Nor mine as I never invested myself emotionally in the relationship.

However, this latest experience does nothing to change my perception that New York men are, quite frankly, complete freaks. I hate to generalize but I can't think of any other reasons why I just do not understand them and all my single girlfriends feel the same way.

Of course, I am far from being perfect myself and I carry my own complex emotional baggage, my own little dose of freakiness. But I am more convinced than ever that having a straight forward relationship in New York, one that unfolds at a standard pace or without undue complications, is nearly impossible.

So dating in New York City? Not for the faint hearted although it does provide plenty of funny stories to share with girlfriends over a few glasses of wine ... The key is simply to lower your expectations quite substantially and to keep your heart well out of it!

Restaurants

I haven't written about my new restaurant finds in quite a while. It's not that I don't discover new places anymore, but I guess New York is not quite the brand new adventure playground that it used to be for me. I have lived here for two and a half years now and it is home so I don't feel the urge to try as many things as possible with the same sense of urgency as I did before.

I have also very much come to terms with the fact that I am an Uptown girl and a lot of my regular eateries now are either on the Upper West Side (where I live) or in Tribeca (where I work). Both neighbourhoods are a little more "homely", less showy and trendy than Soho or the Meat Packing district, and therefore suit me far better.

Sushi of Gari - Columbus Avenue btw 78th & 79th, UWS
I'm a huge fan of sushi and cannot wait for my trip to Japan next month, where I hope to sample the best in the world at the Tsukiji fish market. In the mean time, Sushi of Gari, located near the National History Museum, will more than do. It is by far the most inventive and delicate sushi I have tried and considering that I have had the chance to dine at Nobu, it is no small feat. The decor itself is fairly non-descript and minimalist in a rather clinical way, but this is not your average corner sushi restaurant - the Okamase (which I heartily recommend) and a bottle of wine will easily set you back $150 per person. It is well worth the treat - the waitress will bring you each of the chef's specials of the day until you beg for mercy. With a bit of luck, they will include the simply amazing tuna nigiri with a dollop of creamy tofu puree and salmon nigiri with roasted tomato on top amongst many other delicacies.

Mermaid Inn - Amsterdam Avenue btw 87th & 88th, UWS
This is one of the places that Marie & I regularly frequent, especially if we are feeling lazy as it is only a couple of blocks away from our respective apartments. The Mermaid Inn is famous for its mainly French inspired cuisine and has a compact but fail safe menu of perennial seafood classics. The atmosphere is incredibly laid back yet refined, the service attentive but not pushy and the beautiful vintage maps adorning the exposed brick walls set your mind traveling to distant shores. We both prefer to eat at the bar counter, perched up on the high stools and invariably order the same thing: a bottle of the delicious house Rose, half a dozen local oysters and the tasty pan-fried skate wing. I also love the complimentary cup of dark chocolate mousse they offer at the end of the meal.

Hi Life - Amsterdam Avenue btw 84th & 83rd, UWS
Hi Life is very much my go-to neighbourhood restaurant and bar. The food is good, plentiful and affordable and spans anything from American classics (burgers and fries) to sushi - while this is normally not a good sign, it works there as they execute every type of cuisine perfectly. The bar area has a speakeasy feel which is particularly cosy during the cold winters. In the summers, I like to sit outside and watch the world go by. It's quite a famous little institution here on the Upper West Side as the bar played a central role in an independent movie of the same name. I just like the fact that I can go there wearing yoga pants, a little white vest and not a scrap of make-up (like I did last Sunday) and not feel out of place or self-conscious.

Flor Del Sol - Greenwich btw Harrison & Franklin, Tribeca
I have a sentimental attachment to this place as my friend Fionuala and I have made a habit of meeting there for tapas when we want to have a long, leisurely catch up. We always sit at the same table in the minuscule outdoor patio, set right on the street on a lovely corner of Tribeca. And we also always order the shrimp ceviche, ham croquettes and the pan-fried chorizo with plenty of bread to mop up the smoky juices, along with our favourite Chardonnay of course.

Ivy's - Greenwich at Moore Street, Tribeca
My friend Kim introduced me to Ivy's a couple of months ago and I loved it straight away. This is my kind of place - small and intimate, with a tiny outdoor area and friendly service by what seems to be young wannabe actors (it reminds me of LA in that way). Their traditional Italian fare is hearty, generous and delicious. Many evenings have been spent there with a bunch friends since, sipping wine on balmy evenings while sharing their fantastic brushetta and antipasto or filling up on spicy sausage pasta.

Roadtrip

I finally have the time to report back from my trip with the girls. A roadtrip is always an exciting adventure but many of my American friends in particular were surprised by our choice of destination. As neither particular fans of country music or fried food, a drive through Virginia and Tennessee seemed like an odd choice but not one that I regret. It is a well known fact that New York is unique, almost an anomaly, but it became even more obvious to us as we progressed further South and we very much felt like we were visiting a different country altogether.

But first, there were two instrumental players on the trip. Starting with "Chad", as we had ironically named our beautiful convertible car. Chad drove very much like a tank but the trip would not have been the same without him. Having the roof down all the time, with the music blaring out (we evolved an amusing car dance routine to the Black Eyed Peas "Boom Boom Pow" which kept coming up on the radio) and the wind blowing in our hair added an invaluable thrill and fun element as well as guaranteeing a suntan. And how else would we have been able to dry our bikinis after a swim but by hanging them at the back of our seats and let the wind do its job!?
The second, but no less valuable character, was my beloved Iphone. We shunned traditional paper maps and relied on Google Maps to tell us exactly where we were, how to get to our destination and how long it would take. The Starbucks locator app was also a lifesaver, especially in the mornings - you can take a girl out of New York ...

It is difficult to pick out memories from such a diverse trip, filled with so many new experiences ... Enjoying a huge pile of steaming hot whole spice rubbed crabs at Obryki's on our quick pit stop in Baltimore. Staying in our first motel in Virginia which looked like it belonged to a horror movie film set. Driving through the verdant gentle hills of the Shenandoah valley. Arriving in Pigeon Forge Tennessee to find that instead of being the quaint village I had pictured it to be, it was essentially a miniature version of Las Vegas - minus the casinos but packed with themed restaurants and tacky souvenir shops. Staying in a secluded log cabin for a couple of days at the foot of the Smoky Mountains, complete with rustic decor, fireplaces and a huge terrace overlooking the forest with an outdoor jacuzzi and a barbecue. Falling in love with s'mores (a wonderful American bbq/camping tradition I had never had before) which consists of letting a marshmallow brown over the fire before squeezing it between two Graham crackers and a piece of Hershey dark chocolate.

Our short stay in the Smoky Mountains was also the more adventurous part of our trip as we went river tubing (a normally relaxing affair except for the part where Marie nearly drowned!) and also ziplined through the forest, which despite being a much tamer version of the ziplining I did in Costa Rica, was still a lung bursting experience. We even visited Dollyworld purely out of comedy value - we were disappointed to find no statue of Dolly Parton there which ruined our plan of having our picture taken groping her considerable assets although Marie and Libs improvised with a life-size picture of her instead!

Nashville's heart beats to the sound of country music, which I expected, but what I didn't was how much a party town it is. After a brief attempt at line dancing (which is much harder than it looks) at the Wild Horse, we spent our two evenings there crawling honky tonk joints. Bustling dive bars and a very friendly atmosphere where the backdrop to rugged looking singers in cowboy hats and boots belting out country music classics, one of which includes probably one of the best chorus line in music history: "save a horse, ride a cowboy". While I cannot possibly divulge whether we did save a horse while we were there, let's just say that if you are a girl looking for fun then Nashville is the place to be!

Memphis offered a stark contrast to Nashville, firstly by its size but also because of its state of derelict - lovely residential areas seemed to be lost in between long stretches of desolated buildings and boarded up houses, giving it a definite unsafe edge. I wanted to look beyond appearances but as we were making our way to a supposedly great soul food restaurant in the outskirts of town and drove past policemen handcuffing a group of teenagers in the street, I agreed with the rest of the girls that we should lock the car doors and head back downtown! But despite this, we very much loved Memphis. We stayed at the Peabody Hotel on our first night and watched its famous ducks march to the pond in the morning. We hit Beale Street and listened and danced to live music. We had the best ribs in town and a side a slaw at Rendez Vous. We visited Sun Studios, where a young and unknown Elvis walked in one day to record a song for his mum ... very much feeling the weight of history in this tiny place where not only Elvis but also Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison and BB King's talents, amongst many others, were first spotted. No visit to Memphis is complete without seeing Graceland of course, which is surprisingly not as ostentatious as one would imagine and feels more like a museum dedicated to interior design circa 1970 (not a good year for interior designing, that's for sure). A tour of the National Civil Rights museum was an eye-opening and emotional end to our trip as we learnt, much to our horror, that some of the last segregation laws were only abolished in the South in the late sixties ...

Throughout the trip, I was fascinated by some of the cultural differences we encountered. Small ones like people saying hello to us in the streets, strangers striking up conversations easily or the fact that every single waiter was shocked that we wanted to split our bill four ways (it appears people pay for their own share in the South). But also larger ones like the prevalence of religion everywhere we went. The church to inhabitants ratio was staggeringly high and it appeared that professing your religion with car stickers was mandatory, my favourite ones reading "Jesus loves", "God knows", "Keep Christ in Christmas" and the guilt-inducing "If you feel ignored, guess how God feels now". I also chuckled at all the self-proclaimed "Christian stores", selling anything from books to furniture, all approved by God himself I presume ...