Notes from the subway
A few minutes ago I secured a few of the delights that can be had all over in New York City and perhaps in one or two places in Seattle at a 50% premium: Skansen matjes herring and Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray celery soda. Mmm, delish. Not to worry, the celery is fleeting in the extreme and the herring has allspice in the cure. As you are a sensible person, I'm sure you would love them.
I return Thursday and the trip has been a total delight. I caught up with key friends, had some excellent yet moderately-priced meals, did a bit of shopping as I inevitably must for things that can be found here and practically nowhere else, photographed from the steps of Federal Hall at 2:30 a.m. and shoved my tabletop tripod against George Washington with nary a peep from the three police units and various private security forces guarding the NYSE. I guessed all exposures and bracketed, so we'll see how that turns out. I will have to consider bringing my spot meter on future trips when I might do certain types of night photography. At no time did I miss the dippy little digicam or the need to take rounds of the same photos with both it and what I consider a real camera.
Each time I return to the City for a visit, I have an epiphany in the form of something I'd forgotten about. The first time back, it was the sheer number of people, edited out of many of my key memories of my time living here. Etc. This time I have been debating which of two things I have noticed I should name as this trip's "epiphany". (I don't think epiphany is really the perfect word here, but I'm tired and it will do.) I've decided, though, that the winner has got to be that I had forgotten what a really large number of very attractive women there are here. I have just been struck over and over again by this. You might well note that it would have been more practical for me to make this observation at any time during the almost six years I lived in NYC, but it might just be cruel for you to note that.
The weather has been perfect, notwithstanding a Seattle-like day on Saturday. Food choices have also been outstanding. My dear, dear friend has been down from Boston for the last few days, and we dined at Momofuku Noodle Bar and The Spotted Pig, where the gnudi really are fantastic, as were my "homemade faggots" (not a typo) with a side of champ. After finishing first and second courses at The Spotted Pig, many smaller bears would amble away directly to their caves, confident they were set for the long winter ahead. We, on the other hand, split a piece of the outstanding flourless chocolate cake.
Tonight my dear, dear friend took me to dinner and the Pizzarelli-Molaskey cabaret show at the Carlyle. We were seated at one end of a table the rest of which was occupied by the party of legendary jazz pianist Sir George Shearing. I know this because Pizzarelli recorded an album with Shearing and announced same before performing a couple of the songs in the encore. Vernon Jordan stopped by and exchanged pleasantries with everyone in the Shearing party. My friend and I passed up this opportunity to introduce ourselves as we are not currently in any "jams".
I have now had some matjes and Cel-Ray, in case you were wondering. Both were just delicious.
As a random note, I found it odd that the decor of the Carlyle Hotel includes (separate) b/w photos of JFK, Jacqueline Onassis and Princess Diana exiting the hotel. It seems out of character for such a place to crassly trade on the fame of its past guests, but, more to the point, are they trying to send the message that (a) our guests are easy prey for the paparazzi and (b) our guests tend to be struck down in the prime of life?
Labels: with apologies to [CULTURAL FIGURE]
posted at 9:29 PM
1 Comments:
You like pickled herring? I thought only my dad was crazy enough to eat that stuff.
Post a Comment
<< Home