Persian rugs

I've hated my living room rug pretty much since we bought it. Realized it's just not working with the rest of our furniture, and since it's black, never ever looks clean.

For years I've been making fun of my mama because of her old school "too traditional" oriental rug.

Then I saw the light - that a persian rug would totally fix my decorating dilemma - and have been trying to steal it from her to no avail.

My new office happens to be a few blocks from the oriental rug district in NYC - a tiny little swathe near midtown east that is just one dark, intimidating-looking persian rug palace after another. 

Today I finally went in. 

I want all of them.

Drink: Bookmarks

Well. This post has been languishing for months apparently. Oops.

One night back in March-ish when it was unseasonably warm (but still a in-like-a-lion-chill-in-the-air), I met Jared at work and we went to Bookmarks for a drink. You can sit on the roof of the Library Hotel and look out at the sky-high buildings and lights of midtown and have a rather delicious cocktail. Everything tastes better when you eat/drink it outdoors.

This weekend

Because chocolate and pistachio gelato makes everything better. Literally.

New lunch obsession - wheat bread smeared with fresh avocado, sprinkled with black pepper and crumbled feta, and topped with fried eggs with fresh grape tomatoes from the farmers market.

Craft fair on Columbus Ave

A giant smoothie inbetween teaching classes.

Out and about at the swanky super-hip Tao Restaurant on Friday night for a friend's birthday. Because it's just not a good dinner if you can hear your dining companions, or resist from bouncing to the thumping bass for the entire meal. (But seriously. Cool place. Awesome food. Nelly and Ashanti were eating there when we were. How cool are we? ha.)

This weekend

The city has been looking mighty pretty lately with all this sun and warm weather. This giant, ancient wisteria vine gets people every time - no one can walk past without snapping a photo.

Had a super delicious brunch at Emporio on Saturday - hellooooo $15 entree + beverage special....

...followed by a trip to Kleinfelds to provide moral support to a friend trying on wedding dresses.

The store is really quite lovely. Though I will never. ever. ever be able to wrap my head around spending that much money on a more-than-likely-very-uncomfortable-dress that you're going to wear for 8 hours, max.

Nevertheless, I would have been very happy to sit out on one of those couches with a bellini or cappuccino and just peoplewatch the whole day long. The crew sitting behind us was quite a hoot.

On Sunday wandered up to the Columbus Ave market for an amazing donut. Not so much "cider donut" as "fluffy plump, rimmed in butter and sugar donut" but oh man it was good. Watched a husky snatch a pretzel out of a man's shopping bag and chow down.

And the Park. It never gets old. I feel so incredibly lucky that in this huge gritty city, this is my backyard.

Broadway

For me, one of the most exciting things about living in New York - the thing that really makes me go "Wow - we live in MANHATTAN" - is going to a show - a really great show - and then just walking home. No sprints to Penn Station to get on a train. No long local train trips, fighting to stay awake - staggering to a car - driving home - crashing into bed at an ungodly hour, and by then the whole magic of the show has fizzled away completely and you're just left with the taste of NJ Transit on your tongue.

But no. Last night we just walked. Through the lights of city with yellow taxis buzzing by. It doesn't get much better than that. 

When the weather's warm...

...you spend the afternoon in Central Park, sitting on a bench, watching your shadows and the pond and the runners and the tourists, and reading books and listening to music and eating ice pops and everything seems pretty magnificent.

The kitten is happy too.

This weekend

Took myself out for an end of the week breakfast treat. NYC is so good for practicing your independence. Eating solo is a totally acceptable way of life. And sometimes oatmeal, a pot of tea, and a notebook makes the perfect morning.

Have never spent much time on the east side, but took a stroll up Madison Ave and holy moly. 

$$$$$$$$$$$$

Wandered across the park and into the cutest little cafe for cappuccino and hot chocolate. Sat on a stoop outside in the 60 degree weather staring at gorgeous million dollar townhouses.

And Central Park. Oh the park. I've been so incredibly happy in NYC so far, but it just got a million times better with the start of the warm weather. You forget how much more wonderful everything is in the springtime. Coatless. A completely packed park. Outdoor dining. Perfect.

One of the best meals of my life

For my birthday, I told Jared what I really wanted was to go to a nice dinner. Somewhere out of the neighborhood. Somewhere different. And, the biggest thing:  I didn't want to have anything to do with the choosing/planning. When it comes to food, I'm totally out of control. I'll spend hours reading NY Magazine reviews trying to pick a place to go to dinner, and we've spent more than a few nights wandering for hours - HOURS - around the village while I can't make up my mind about where to dine. It's bad. So the number one thing I wanted for this dinner was to be surprised and have all of those choices out of my control. 

So last night I met Jared at Bryant Park after work and he led me on the subway downtown, across a few blocks, and we ended up in front of Babbo. 

Well done, sir!

Without hesitation I can say it was one of the best meals of my life.

One of those dinners when everything just comes together and it's the perfect ambiance, and the food blows your mind, and the conversation is easy, and you're looking across the table at this great person thinking this is all just perfect.

That was last night.

Here's what we ate:

Pear and ginger bellini for moi

Negroni for him

Neci con funghi misti

Pumpkin lune with sage and amaretti

Pappardelle bolognese

Red snapper with fennel and lemon and cippoline onions

Grilled Pork Chop with Cherry Peppers, Cipolline and Aceto Manodori 

Pistachio and chocolate semifreddo

It was all completely stellar. But the dessert. Oh that dessert. It was of the life-changing variety. No joke. I was virtually making out with my spoon. I asked Jared if I could lick the plate. I talked about it all the way home. And for the rest of the night. And I've been thinking about it all day.

Babbo has a wonderfully mellow vibe, and yet there is such an attention to detail for every dish that you feel quite spoiled. The service, and the whole experience, was impeccable.

The other best meals of my life?

- A 3 1/2 hour long New Years Eve dinner at La Casa Bianca

- Honeymoon dining on the water in Curacao at Bistro le Clochard 

- This past October at FIG in Charleston

The worst chore in the land

I hate doing laundry. I despise it. Dread it. I'd happily clean my entire apartment every single day of the week. Wait on endless lines at the grocery store. ANYTHING but laundry. Up until we moved, my darling husband was on laundry duty, and I was eternally grateful. It's been a rude awakening to return to my least favorite chore. But since I'm working from home, which means near-empty laundromats on weekdays, it makes the most sense for me to take on the task. And I hate it.

I’d say the majority of NYC residents suffer without a washer and dryer in their apartment or even in their building. And I was surprised to learn that, at least here on the UWS, the number of drop off wash and fold places WAY outnumbers self service laundromats. In theory I’d love to have my clothes vanish once a week, and return clean and crisply folded (seriously - how do they fold everything so neatly?) – but I just can’t do it. The thought of someone else manhandling my clothes -- my underwear – my nice shirts. I just can’t.

My first-ever visit to the laundromat was real bad. Embarrassingly so. I was completely clueless and felt ridiculous and had to ask the sweet Asian-lady-owner for help every ten minutes. In fact, I guess my laundromat naivete was so memorable that when I came back the 2nd time, the lady-owner pointed at me and said "New Jersey! You're from New Jersey right?" and handed me a shirt that I'd apparently left in the dryer the week before. Oops.

There's also the whole problem of transporting said laundry. I'm not sure how it's possible for two people to create so much dirty laundry in a single week, but apparently it can be done. Fortunately the laundromat is only a block away but oh sweet mama it is the longest block in history when you are carrying thirty pounds of laundry ON YOUR BACK. After my laundromat deflowering I suddenly realized what all those granny carts are made for. To save your spine and dignity from Santa-like pack-lugging. Let me tell you, it's a humbling experience to walk across Columbus Ave with a laundry bag that is definitely bigger than you are, silently whimpering the whole time. After a month of toting the laundry by hand, last night I finally invested in a cart. 

Do you see what I mean? Who has THIS MUCH LAUNDRY?

(PS - After my first voyage I'm kind of feeling equally ridiculous with the cart. I can't walk behind it because my feet hit the bottom bar, and the handle is kind of low. Fail.)

Eat: Le Pain Quotidien (throughout NYC)

Unfortunately, during our first week in NYC, we spent most of our time visiting family in the hospital. There was a lot of takeout. A lot of Au Bon Pain from the lobby. So when Jared's aunt and I were beyond starving and had an hour to escape and actually go sit down to a very late lunch....well, it was the best lunch I'd had in a long time.

Le Pain Quotidien has locations around NYC (around the world for that matter), but never feels like a chain. It has a rustic European vibe. Communal tables and simple, well-made food.

On that first visit there, the soup of the day was tomato. And I'm a sucker for tomato soup. It was good. Really really good. Very fresh, not overly acidic, and the smaller cup size could have easily been a meal on it's own (well, for a normal person who isn't always ravenously hungry).  

 

And then. The tartines. The backbone of this establishment is an array of overflowing, open faced sandwiches. I got the Avocado tartine and it was mindblowingly good.  Avocado, chickpeas, tomato, slivers of cucumber, lettuce, scallions, and a drizzle of tahini. One of those meals where you say to yourself "I could totally make this myself" - and yet you know you would never ever be able to recreate how amazing it is. The success of these tartines is largely due to the bread. That is some good freaking bread. A dense hearty wheat bread that supports all those delicious toppings without getting soggy or wilting under the weight.

In fact, the bread was so good that a few days later I took myself down to the Le Pain on W. 72nd street and bought myself a loaf of wheat bread. Little did I know it was going to be HUGE. Beyond huge. Each slice is literally 12 inches long. It took 3 giant containers to fit it all in the freezer. Fortunately it keeps impeccably well in the freezer. There was so much that the single loaf lasted me one month. An entire month! The next time I got it I learned my lesson and only got a half a loaf. Highly recommend. Totally worth the freezer space.

Eat: Levain Bakery (167 W. 74th Street) - A Cookie Revelation

I'd read about Levain all over the place, and it's literally a block away from our apartment. It also happens to be right next to my laundromat so every time I lug that 30 pound bag of laundry down the street I'm taunted with the most obscene chocolate scents you can imagine. But it wasn't until this past Sunday that Jared and I experienced a cookie revelation.  

It's a teeny tiny store, down a flight of narrow steps, and there's always a line out the door. Inside it's bare bones. A counter. Racks and racks of cookies. Ovens. They don't mess around. 

There are only 4 flavors: chocolate walnut. oatmeal raisin. dark chocolate chocolate chip. dark chocolate peanut butter.

We took our bounty to Lincoln Center and sat on the edge of the fountain and it was one of those very perfect New York moments that I doubt I'll forget. 

They are some big-ass cookies. 800 calories each to be exact. And holy hell. They are worth it.

They're on the lumpy side, and look like they'd be hard, but the center is perfectly moist.

I don't normally like nuts in my cookies but the walnuts only make this cookie better. Jared was so engrossed with his peanut butter cookie that at one point he said "Don't talk to me right now." 

Yeah. They're that good.

PS. I have been nibbling at this very same cookie for the past 4 days. Yes. 4. I'm a grazer. And would you believe me if I told you it is JUST as good as it was the very first day? Seriously. It is still completely fresh and amazing.