New York – Round 2

There was a full roster of ReUnion events set for Sunday as well, but Roy and I decided to call it quits Saturday night.  Our new plan:  Sunday brunch at the Starving Artist Café in Lee, snap a few pics of the town before heading out, take a leisurely drive to Albany to drop off the rental car, and board an afternoon train back to the Big Apple.

At the risk of repeating myself, the best laid plans . . .

First thing Sunday morning Roy called Enterprise to confirm we could return the car a day early.  No answer.

No answer, no answer, no answer.

After wasting hours with a recorded message and a parent company that was no help at all, we were out of time.  Assuming the place was open, it wouldn’t be for long (shorter hours on Sundays), and Albany was a long haul.  So much for brunch and photos – and that my final excuse for why I have no pictures of picturesque Lee.  Here’s a stock photo to satisfy your curiosity (from the Applegate Inn website).

After yet another tense drive against the clock, we arrived in Albany with mere minutes to spare.  All got sorted in the end, but it was an ugly morning . . . that eased into a beautiful afternoon.  The return train ride back down the Hudson was a balm to our frayed patience.

Soon we were back at Penn Station, and then merging with the crowd in front of Madison Square Garden, becoming one with the endlessly on-the-move masses of New York, New York – that wonderful town.

This round, we had Mona’s Brooklyn digs to ourselves (she was off leading an NYU field trip in Spain).

No deadlines, no schedules, and nowhere to be till Thursday, when we had a date with the Silver Star.

Our second sojourn in NYC was a real holiday, a few days away from it all in a city of endless entertainments.  We started with some old favorites.  As my email signature attests (“While there’s tea, there’s hope”), a good cuppa goes a long way with me.  Back when she’d been a New Yorker, our daughter had introduced us to the best tea place in town – Alice’s Tea Cup.

Adorable Alice’s does tea right (both the drink and the meal).  They have an extensive assortment of quality leaves from which to choose, and they know how to brew a proper pot.  Here’s the list of the teas I considered:

I went with the Numalighar.  It was divine.

Whether you are ravenous or just a bit peckish, keeping it traditional with a 3-tiered tea or going rogue with carrot cake and coffee, their home-made comestibles will sate your appetite.  A mouth-watering array of the day’s pastries and cookies are on display at the front counter (you can also get them to-go), and they always have a sumptuous variety of both sweet and savoury scones on hand.

As if the menu weren’t enough, the décor is utterly charming, a cozy weave of rooms dressed in shabby-chic English Victorian and Alice in Wonderland memorabilia.  Just look at what lay below the glass top of our little table!  (Click on the photo to enlarge.)

If you have to wait a bit (we didn’t), the wait is totally worth it.  And yes, they do special occasion tea parties for young and old alike!

Alice’s Tea Cup is but a short stroll from another of our favorite haunts – the American Museum of Natural History

and its companion institution

at the Hayden Planetarium (where Neil deGrasse Tyson works).  The space-stuff is mind-bogglingly cool, but we knew that.  The earthly additions I’d not seen before are what blew me away.

The exhibition boasted massive, exquisitely beautiful stones,

the King’s Canyon fold (Sierra Nevada geologic amazing-ness),

our shifty neighbor, the San Andreas Fault (Roy is pointing directly at the notorious crack of doom),

fascinating video and interactive presentations on climate change and geological evolution, and something I’ve always wanted to see, a genuine ice core sample!

It comes with a viewer; you can scroll along it and see where each bit fits into the geological record and what was going on in the world at the time.

We hit the space center next.

Roy snapped the pic above.  The pic below is a promo shot he snagged from the Hayden Planetarium’s website.  Can’t take pics in the auditorium (duh), but the show on dark matter was all manner of awesome.  This will give you an inkling.

When in Mona’s hood,

the go-to to-go is West Indian cuisine.  We were the only ignoramuses in Flatbush, the only people who didn’t know what they wanted or how to order it from the hole-in-the-wall size establishments with their long counters full of strange and spicy delights, their short menus with mystifying combos (mystifying to the uninitiated), and their crowds of customers waiting to be handed humongous bags of deliciousness.

The busy folks running the places we tried were very accommodating and guided us as best they could.  Here’s a shout-out to the woman behind the counter who suggested I mix the “mild” shrimp pasta with the spicy one – that worked out great.  Here’s my man and me about to dig into real-deal jerk chicken, him with a bottle of local beer (Brooklyn Lager) and me with my (Presidente) Dominican brew.

No matter how brief the stay, theatre folks are required to see at least one show while in NYC.  (I think it’s the law.)  Roy and I had a “Doh!” moment as we stepped off the subway at Broadway and West 53^rd and came face-to-face with “The Stephen Colbert Show” boldly emblazoned on the Ed Sullivan Theatre’s marquee.  I like Stephen lots, Roy is an avid fan, and we’d both have been glad to forego a bit of live theatre for a bit of live late-night TV.  If only we’d had our brains operational for the last several months when the show was signing off with instructions on how to order tickets on-line . . .

Tickets to Hamilton are still impossible as well, but having already perused the weekly must-have freebie “Time Out New York,” Roy had lined up a couple of worthy options.  We settled on The New Group’s well-received, highly-recommended, off-Broadway production of The Whirlygig.

Fast becoming masters of the MTA maze,

we made our way to Signature Theatre, a modern, Frank Gehry-designed complex with three performance spaces, a café, and a bookstore.

I found Hamish Linklater’s script a bit precious; the storytelling was too convoluted for the simple plot.  That said, it was an absolute delight to see an entire cast handle a script – any script – with confidence, authority, and clear understanding of the possibilities inherent in the text.

My only other caveat was in regard to the lighting design.  Jeff Croiter’s capable handling of tricky, saturated blues was superb, and I also appreciated his layered mix of light and shadow – especially for the many extended night-time scenes.  Occasionally, though, an actor spent too long in a dark hole, for my taste.

As a production and on the whole, the pros far outweighed the cons.  The scenic design was fabulous.  I particularly admired designer Derek McLane’s clever use of the huge revolve that essentially was the stage.  Terrific wing hydraulics provided long, stable battens that were dressed as tree limbs and could support multiple actors (look in the upper right corner of the pic – which is property of The New Group).

Performance-wise, it was quite clear which two actors had résumés long on television/film and short on live theatre.  Still, the ensemble was solid, and Norbert Leo Butz in the role of Michael was flat brilliant.

After a show?  Dinner, of course.

NYC is a gastronome’s dream; every culinary style in the world has a home-away-from-home somewhere between Queens and Jersey.  My childhood fave is a NY staple – the ethnic delights of the kosher Jewish delicatessen.  Borscht, herring, gefülte fish, chopped liver, kosher corned beef, Jewish rye, dill pickles, knishes, kugel, blintzes . . .

. . . are easy to find in New York and Chicago.  They’re not so easy, but not impossible to find in LA.  Northern California, you’re lucky if you can find real lox on a real bagel.

Stopping in a Jewish deli on a NY jaunt would seem a no-brainer – but in all our visits, we’ve never once stopped.  Since none of my kids or any of the Jimenez family grew up with the stuff, Jewish delis never make onto their restaurant wish-lists.  This time, though, just Roy and me (and Roy being totally amenable and happy with anything, as long as it’s tasty), the only question was which one?

My pick:  The 2^nd Ave Deli.

The 2^nd Ave Deli is not on 2^nd Avenue.  Not anymore.  They relocated after Abe Lebewohl, the beloved, philanthropist owner (he fed every homeless person who ever walked into his deli hungry) was gunned down on the way to the bank to make a deposit.  The 2^nd Avenue Deli is on East 33^rd between 3^rd and Lexington, but the nephews who run it now are proud of their origins,

and they take pains to ensure their establishment exudes a classic deli ambiance.

I loved this place.

I was sorely tempted to have the chopped liver (I hate liver and onions, but chopped liver on rye from a Jewish deli is another thing altogether).  Still, it had been sooooo long, I just had to go for the corned beef.  It came with a lovely vinegar slaw and two types of pickles, mustard, and (at the waiter’s suggestion) cool, refreshing Arnold Palmers.

For dessert – a chupito (free shot) of chocolate soda!  Omg, that took me back.  That nosh at the 2^nd Ave Deli checked all the boxes for me.  I left emotionally and gastronomically content.

In the long evening, we strolled down to Union Square and hit Whole Foods (what a madhouse!) for a few travel items before heading back to Brooklyn.  It was definitely summer-in-the-city weather, but not yet the horrible “dirty sauna” (as my daughter calls it) NY can be during the true dog days.

Playtime in the Big Apple.  Everyone having fun – and me, most of all.