Day Two: McQueen, Momofuku and More

Isn’t it fun to open your eyes in the morning, still in a sleepy haze of non-location, only to be greeted by a whole new vacation environment?  Maybe I should scratch that “sleepy haze” part, since the floor to ceiling windows in our room, which face east, allowed the sun to drop morning on us like a concrete spotlight (weird simile, I know) – Hey, right in your face!  It’s 8:00AM!  Rise and shine, slackers!  Mother Nature’s alarm clock isn’t so bad, though, when it includes sweeping views of Lower Manhattan.  Plus, it was all bright blue skies.

Anyway, we were up and at ‘em – and hungry.  Our first stop was the highly recommended Russ & Daughters, a place that really needs to be seen to understand all its wonderful offerings:

Mmm...  gefilte fish...  reminds me of my first Passover dinner, where I scarfed down a whole lotta this drowned in horseradish sauce.

Schmaltz?  Rollmops?  What more could you ask for?

A very popular place, people – both locals and outta towners alike – jostled for position at the counter to place their order.  We chose the amazing-sounding bagel combo of lox, cream cheese, scallions and tomatoes.  After a short wait, we grabbed our goodies and walked down the street to a little park.  While we enjoyed the ridiculously delish bagels, we got some free entertainment from an Asian grandma jogging circles around the pavement while chewing out her less than enthused grandkids to exercise more.  Boy, I felt bad for those kids.  I think each one nearly cried at least once.  Gramma, lay off!

Bagel of Happiness:

Tiger Grandma of Unhappiness:

After finishing up every last speck of our lunch, we caught the subway down to Wall Street.  We were lucky enough to be there on a weekday, when the place was humming with its worker bees darting here and there.  Wall Street really is like a canyon of sorts.  Here are some pics of our venture down there. The first few images are from our walk to the train while still in the NoLita/LES area:

Bustling construction at Ground Zero, and Wall Street:

Those bollards in the background are on a rotating piece of pavement - necessary for the heightened security here.  A closer look:

We had a date with L to meet at the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see what would be one of the most breath-takingly beautiful, technical, and intense exhibits I’ve seen since catching the Lee Bontecou retrospective at the MCA Chicago years ago.  Deemed a must-see for fashionistas and really any design enthusiast, the Savage Beauty exhibition, which honors the late Alexander McQueen, was one of the few activities on my "mandatory" list that did not include food or booze.  Or shopping.  OK, so it's related to the latter, but oh it's much more than that.

So, we caught the train back north, then walked for a good 20 “New York north/south” blocks to the Met, along the Grand Strand.  We planned to meet at the rooftop so we could (surprise) take advantage of their al fresco bar and the great views of the Park, as well as the circumference of concrete, steel and glass that surrounds it.


A view of the skyline peeking through the foliage:

Approaching the Met...  and the Pretzelcart!

View from the rooftop:

Here’s another of my 360 degree video shorts.  Sometimes this gets it across better than my babbling:

While taking in the view, weather, and beverages, I decided my feet needed a rest and plunked my butt down on one of the few available benches (in the shade, even better).  So glad I did, as a few minutes later, a couple of ladies asked to share the scarce real estate with me, and we ended up having a lovely conversation.  We told them where we’d gone so far and what we planned to do, getting their enthusiastic stamp of approval.  As Manhattan residents, they gave us some suggestions as well.  Here’s a pic of us all (and bad me for not remembering these ladies' names - if either of you women do read this, please jog my GenXChallenged memory):

We would have a few moments like this, where we’d strike up a conversation with strangers, such as a guy on the subway who overheard us trying to figure something out and started talking to us.  Short exchanges, but a valuable piece of the trip.

Now, I was a good kid and did not take pictures as instructed (though my husband said he spotted a few “quick snaps” by some girls who couldn’t resist).  But there is no way I can even begin to explain how impressive it all was – not without writing twenty extra  paragraphs that will surely make your eyes glaze over.  So, here is a link, handily provided by the Met, which gives you a pretty darn good idea of what we experienced.  From the overlapping sounds where room met room (classical music blurring over to technical bleeps, which then give way to howling winds) to the design of the rooms themselves, the stunning headpieces and, of course, the show-stopping clothes and accessories designed by McQueen…  I can’t tell you how tempting it was to laugh at fate, grab one of those impeccably tailored jackets or the crazy Armadillo shoe or the (any number of things, really) and then just…  run like hell!  Ahh, but I didn't.  Still, talk about coveting and drooling...

Oh, I’ll shut up and show – here:

 http://blog.metmuseum.org/alexandermcqueen/about/

I landed you on the "About" page as it gives, more or less, the room-by-room progression we took.  Click on the Selected Objects for more images of his work, as well as the Video for shorts from past runway shows - imaginative and amazing no doubt.

We walked out of there in hushed tones, almost as if you’d left a church service.  Some people looked truly emotional.  Even my husband, who “hadn’t heard of the guy” (he referred to him as Steve McQueen once), came away from the progression of rooms dropping adjectives like “cool,” “intense” and “really good.”  Yes indeedy, es gefiel ihm (he liked it).

While our minds replayed McQueen’s achingly gorgeous visions in our heads, we wandered over to the Boat House in Central Park to enjoy, of course, some cocktails.  We found seats at the bar, which afforded us great views of the pond, the people, and the park.

Maybe the tequila had something to do with it, but I loved watching the reflection of water dancing on the ceiling (cue the Lionel Richie).

Eins, zwei, drei...  g'soffe!  (Or, maybe "Salud!" is more appropriate here ;)

What comes after drinks?  Food.  With dinner on our minds, we finally gave up our seats (which were quickly taken over) and ambled through the park back towards the calamity.

New Yorkers sure seem to like their mini-carnivals.  We saw another one the following day while on the Highline tour.

We disappeared back down the stairs to the subway and got treated to a little show in the "lobby" by some street musicians.  Check it out:

It was agreed we had to hit at least one of talented chef David Chang’s restaurants.  My brother, a chef back in Chicago, was envious when he heard we dined at Momofuku Ssam.  The design of the slender space actually reminds me of Avec, also back home in the Chi.  Warm woods, communal tables and a bar that seems squeezed along one wall – the ambiance was intimate, chatty and overall happy.  And how can you not be jovial, with the fab food?  We started out in the bar, where L's friend A joined us...

Where we played the game, "Someone tell me what's in those cases 'cuz I'm not sure..."

Enjoyed some cold ones...

And got seated after a short wait:

Lots of delectable dishes, including pork belly, pork shoulder, ham, and noodles (which of these things is not like the other, heh heh):

I don’t know who came up with the bright idea to order that ginormous pastry-thingy for dessert.  But we ate it!  Perfect end to another great dinner.

In a freshly induced food coma, we bid L’s friend A goodbye and wandered over to the Black & White Bar, where I met up with some old pals from my days working for a videogame design company in Austin, Texas.  Two of them have since relocated to Queens, so it was the perfect opportunity for a mini-reunion.  I found the bar’s name funny and fitting, as I have memories of these guys playing the newly released game Black & White back in the day.  Seated in separate offices, all the lights off, their faces aglow from the computer screens, and you could hear them trash-talking each other over speakerphone.  A weird yet endearing memory of my time working (and drinking, oy) with them.

My husband’s cousin lives in Brooklyn, so we arranged to meet up with him next, along with our friend/host/L’s husband S, who’d been unable to hang out with us til now due to work obligations.  We converged at the Summit Bar, had probably a couple too many margaritas, and enjoyed yet another fine summer night.


Random light object we passed while out and about:

Scenes from the Summit Bar:

After leaving the Summit, we stumbled on over to our friends L & S's apartment in the East Village.  I had finally hit a wall by that point and gotten a lot tired and a little grouchy.  So, my husband and I departed the after-party, heading back to the hotel to rest up for our next big day (fair warning, LOTS of pictures for Day Three).


Here are a couple closing shots of our room with a view by night:

If New York mornings blast their hello to you, then at least the nights lull you to sleep with a kinder, gentler glow.

Day Two – most excellent and most conquered.




All images:  my own

We Interrupt This Programming For A Brief Message...

I just felt the bizarre, oversharing need to tell you we have a 120 degree F heat index today.  This means the body thinks it's 120 damn degrees out there.  Nevermind the actual temperature is a paltry 96 degrees.  Our record-setting dewpoint of 82 is making it worse than a Gulf Coast summer right now.  Bite it, Houston.

Here, really:

The ridonkulous humidity is courtesy of a big, fat storm that ripped through here this morning.  Made my 11:00 AM meeting a little more interesting at least.  Some snaps of that monsoon as it descended upon our cities:

No, really, it's about 11:00 AM here.

The ironic thing is of course that we Midwesterners have been whining for a "real" summer after 6 months of this:

Yeah.  We got summer all right.  Who's whimpering about winter now?

After living in Texas for four years, I would argue Minnesota can bake just like Texas in the middle of July, but boy, I just don't think the Lone Star State can attain a -40 degree windchill and 3 feet of snow like we can in January.  You want extreme weather?  Move here.  You like being scorched and getting frostbite?  Move here.  The only thing I can't offer you is a tsunami.

Anyway, I'll hop off my venting box now.  Next NYC post should be up this weekend.  NYC.  Where they're currently enjoying fall-like weather at 88 degrees...  :)

Images (in order of appearance):
The Weather Channel
Star Tribune / Richard Sennott
Kare 11 News / "Mark B."
My own
Kare 11 (last one)

NYC July 2011 – Day One: The Eagles Have Landed

I think I need to move to NYC.  Like, yesterday.  After spending five solid days there, we still hardly scratched that wonderfully messy and hectic surface of the city.  And, I tell you, we nearly killed ourselves trying to squeeze in as much eating, drinking, and shopping as possible, as well as just general city-viewing.  Not sightseeing per se, but rather hanging out and watching the world go by...  a world hopped up on caffeine, decked in skinny red cords, and constantly checking its iPhone ;)

As always, the camera got a major workout, and I'm currently sorting through 500+ images.  Over the next few weeks, I hope to get everything posted.  While my review of the Denver trip spewed itself forth in one ginormous entry, I'll try and be kind to your braincells and break the NYC trip into a few smaller ones.  This is a blog after all, not the fourth Harry Potter book (Hmm, is the last book longer?  I wouldn't know...  I haven't made it past the fourth one.  Pathetic, I know!).

So today, I present to you Day One of the trip.  I think our daily pattern will become evident pretty quickly:  walk, eat, drink, walk, shop, drink, walk, drink, eat and then drink again, then faceplant in bed.

Enjoy!

NYC July 2011 – Day One:  The Eagles Have Landed

Last year, some dear friends of ours moved from the Minne-apple to the Big Apple.  We’d been promising to visit them, and by the time summer rolled around, we figured we’d better make good on our word.  With our last real vacation (weddings, family visits, etc do not count) dating back to last April, we were sorely overdue and antsy to get outta Dodge.  Also, it’s New York City.  Can’t really argue with an offer from friends to show us around and hang out in one of the most exciting, interesting and energetic places on Planet Earth.  Additionally, our pals operate a lot like us:  drink, eat, drink, repeat.  NYC is an excellent place to exercise that routine.

Oh yeah, and the shopping ain’t too shabby, either J

We booked a flight, found a hotel and said a little prayer to our livers.

Our last trip to Denver commenced with a stop at Surdyk’s Flights, located in the MSP airport, for a pre-flight cocktail.  Deciding this isn’t such a bad thing to ritualize, we popped in again before departing for NYC.  I ordered my first of many, many margaritas that would be consumed over the next few days.

Here’s a shot of the place (again).

The dudes on our right noticed my husband’s t-shirt sporting Mt. Kilimanjaro and asked if we’d been there (Tanzania yes, the actual mountain no), which sparked a pleasant little conversation where they shared some NYC brunch favorites.  Bellying up to the bar often provides good opportunities like this, as long as you’re feeling sociable.

Love that they enclose the tab in a passport cover:

Our lovely cocktail enabler:

On this trip, I also discovered that ordering a margarita on a plane isn’t such a horrid idea.  Plane wine (red wine, anyway) is pretty ick, so I decided to try something new.  While it won’t win any drink awards, this can easily replace my old mile-high go-to.

We touched down at LGA and hopped into a cab.  Weather turned out to be absolutely gorgeous (as it did most of the trip).  I can’t tell you how fun it is to arrive at a new destination, whether by cab, subway or someone’s car.  We did fairly well traffic-wise, and as we sped along on the Queens Midtown Expressway, it was great to see the city looming ever larger as we approached.  Fun to watch industry, cars and snippets of buildings pass by, framed by, well, more cars.

I booked our hotel on the Lower East Side, so we could be close to our friends, who live in the East Village.  Not only would it make it easier for us to meet up each day, it was regarded as an excellent spot for just enjoying the city and what it had to offer as if you lived there.  We weren’t interested much in touristy things (we’ve both been here before).  Besides the priority of seeing our friends, the trip pretty much revolved around food, booze and some shopping.

Ultimately, I chose the Thompson LES.  Perfect location, and a nice compromise between my more upscale preferences and my husband’s comfort with more modest accommodations.  Plus, we got a discounted rate.  Still, I had no idea what to expect when we arrived.  All I’d read about from online reviews were the loud-a$$ bar on the 7th floor (good luck if you got stuck in a room anywhere near that), a staff that people either called helpful or aloof, and the handsome, nice doormen.

Upon arriving and throughout our 4-night stay overall, I found the staff to be quite pleasant, the doormen to indeed be both handsome and nice, and our room turned out to be great!  We were placed on the 16^th floor, far above the hub-bub of the bar (and on the opposite facing side of the hotel).  Not only that, we got a corner room with floor-to-ceiling windows.  Score!  Waking up everyday to see the Brooklyn Bridge and lower Manhattan is definitely not a bad thing.  Of course, people asked if our room was the size of a postage stamp.  Well, duh.  But it was clean, nicely appointed, had fabulous views, was quiet, and really we were only there to sleep, so I could care less about its square footage.  It’s Manhattan, after all.

Here are some pics of the room.  As you can see, we were a little giddy about the view:

Yeah, we got a little camera crazy, which didn't let up for the entire trip.  I like how the last photo shows that skeleton of a high-rise...  it's giving me flashbacks of architecture school and being surrounded by piles of foamcore, chipboard and little sticks of balsawood.


After dropping off our stuff, we immediately proceeded to start wandering around, in hopes of finding someplace to refuel.  Nestled in our temporary homebase of the Lower East Side, we found Inoteca.  Snagging an outdoor table on a busy corner, we took in our new environs while enjoying some food and drink:

My husband commented on Facebook that if this corner were a reality TV show, he’d watch it all the time.  I agree.  Of course, you could probably make that case for a lot of the city.  Not sure what to think of the color-happy family below:

The little tailoring shop sure did a brisk business:

One of the more interesting things we noticed while at Inoteca was that we hung out there long enough to see the same people coming and going.  There were numerous occasions when one of us would say, "I just saw that old guy/lady on a bike/dude in the jorts...  like 10 minutes ago!"  It was oddly comforting, as if we could fool ourselves into thinking this was our neighborhood by tagging strangers as familiar.


We lazed a few fine hours at the corner table until L, our dear friend/host/enabler of all things boozable, edible and shoppable, arrived.  We then set off down the sticky, busy streets (hey, I say that lovingly) to dinner at Casa Mezcal, just a few blocks away.

Did I say I like margaritas?  Did I also mention they’re even better with mezcal?  Man, I love that stuff.  It brings such a nice smoky flavor to the drink.  My little heart just soared when I read the glowing sign above the bar:  Mezcaleria.  Someone cue the voices at the beginning of the Simpsons, right meow:

Both food and drink were superb here.  We got right down to business and ordered some beverages.  One of the best mezcal margaritas I have ever had:

This tasty appetizer boasted a crunchy bottom layer of...  grasshoppers!  Mmm, tangy:

A fabulously large chile relleno:

Loved this place.  I was hoping we'd make a return trip before the vacation was over but, alas, too many places for imbibing and just not enough time.  Couldn't find a proper website with a menu, otherwise I would have shared it with you.


After dinner, we tried to hit Barrio Chino, but as they were already circulating a waiting list, we ventured over to Mary, Queen of Scots.  There, amid the plaid booths, we met up with SC and his very nice friend who was visiting from Japan.  She didn’t speak much English (and our Japanese was severely lacking, minus SC), but it was a fun evening anyway.  

Another margarita, and then L went home (schoolnight for her), SC put his friend in a cab, and our remaining trio decided to head back to our hotel and scope the infamous, “private” 7^th floor bar.

Unless our hotel’s guests were really only comprised of a bunch of twenty-somethings in club attire, the bar is hardly private.  The music was a bit erratic, and it reminded me more of a grown-up frat party or a mildly cheesy Minneapolis club than something I thought I’d find in the LES.  Still, the bar provided some fabulous views of the city, including the Empire State Building, which seems to sneak in regularly in my photos.

Want to hear the madness?  It's got Nirvana... (which comes close to describing the view and summer night in general, maybe minus some of those darn party kids ;)

We enjoyed one more drink, surveyed the cityscape below, and with our first day (OK, half-day) under our belt, it was time for bed.






Images:  my own