City Walk #14 - Little Italy

Card no. 8 - photos
The teeming immigrant neighborhood of The Godfather or Scorsese's Mean Streets is long since gone, but a "Little Italy" of sorts survives: an enclave of old-style restaurants, bakeries, red, white, and green flags, and memories.

Begin at Mulberry and Canal (R, N, or W train to Canal Street).
In the 1930s, one-sixth of New York's population was from southern Italy, a huge number of whom crowded into the famously mean streets bounded by Houston, Canal, and Lafayette Streets, and the Bowery. A mass exodus to the suburbs followed World War II, and Chinatown has pushed farther north ever since. With the northern edge of the neighborhood recently reinvented as "Nolita" (City Walk #11/Card No. 13), the old Little Italy survives as a vestigial enclave frequented mainly by tourists and, during the 11 days of the San Gennaro festival (celebrated every September since 1926), by New Yorkers of every ethnic description. Booths selling zeppoli, cannoli, and pizza line Mulberry Street from Canal to Houston. The rest of the year, Mulberry is still your best bet for a meal. Be sure to stop into Ferrara's on Grand Street, just east of Mulberry, for pastry and cappuccino. Forzano's, at 128 Mulberry, has an appealing selection of Italian books and housewares. Alleva's and Di Palo's, at the corners of Grand and Mulberry and Grand and Mott, respectively, continue to sell homemade ricotta and mozzarella, even as almost every other storefront on the block displays Chinese lettering. Umberto's Clam House survives at the northeast corner of Broome and Mulberry Streets, but the old police headquarters, the fabulous pile that fills the block from Grand to Broome, has long since been converted to condominiums.

From City Walks: New York: 50 Adventures on Foot by Martha Fay

Phone Photo Ops - City Walk #14

Today's route: Littly Italy


"Best bets" along Mulberry Street






Ferrara Bakery & Cafe




Alleva Dairy




Di Palo's Fine Foods


"... even as almost every other storefront on the block
displays Chinese lettering."


Umberto's Clam House


Mulberry between Grand and Broome


Looking north on Mulberry Street

The Perfect City

So I'm in my apartment enjoying a lazy Saturday on my couch, in front of the television, flipping between various afternoon movie line-ups, successfully ignoring the urge of mindless snacking, and periodically hitting refresh on my laptop to see if I have any new myspace messages.

I just came across The Perfect Man starring Hilary Duff (a.k.a. not another cutesy, toothless teen movie) and watched the first few minutes. Just as I was about to surf off of TNT, Duff's character says, "For those of you who haven't done it yet, put 'must see New York skyline' on your list of things to do before you die."

Queue sunset-drenched skyline of New York City ... and I get chills. It's not Citizen Kane or The Godfather. It's Hilary Duff. Images of New York do that to me every time - no matter what the medium.

And, uh-oh, this is a movie about a blogger.

3:50pm Update: Still watching the Duff movie. But only because it's filmed in New York. [Cough]

StuffWhitePeopleLike.com

Today's Why-Didn't-I-Think-of-That moment is brought to you by "Why Didn't I Think of This"?

I felt the same way when I first saw the infomercial for The Perfect Pancake.

"Things I Love" Thursdays - New York Bloggers

I've said it before, but I'll say it again. It's right up there with New York City's newspaper headlines.

Here's one reason why from BNR ... just as I was considering a second job (no pun intended ... unless it will get me $5500 an hour):

Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Posted 12:53 AM by Todd
Super Updated UPDATE! Pissed and Petty gave us the link for pictures! Go look!

Update: Does anyone have a picture of this woman? I really need to see what "Kristen, the attractive brunette" (who can charge $32,000 for a night) looks like. Seriously, someone find me a picture of this woman.

What in the world makes a prostitute worth $32,000 a night? What does she do that raises her rates above the $30,000 line?

My thoughts:
- 100% absolute total discretion*
- Transportation is included. Airfare, cabs, hansoms. You know, the works.
- She cleans while you're "recovering". Dusting is included. She also does windows.
- Your shoes will shine.
- She'll "springs ahead" all the clocks in the apartment. She'll also do your watches and that VCR you haven't set since 1998.
- You know how your closet needs to be reorganized? Consider it done.
- Your initials waxed into her crotch. In cursive.
- Boss giving you shit? She'll seduce him and then sue for sexual harassment.
- Wife giving you shit? She'll seduce her and then tape it for you.
- She'll teach you Latin.
- She'll tuck you in afterwards, read you a story, and rub your back until you fall asleep.
- You'll wake to a pressed suit, a mint under your pillow, and that lingering feeling of guilt that one day the public will eventually learn of your ridiculously hypocritical behavior.

Later, -T-Audentes fortuna iuvat* - kinda

Labels: *BNR* is Not Safe for Children, Hookers, penguins, Politics, Updated UPDATE, Your initials shaved in her crotch in cursive

PLUS:
From a response Todd left on a recent post on BNR:
He asked, "Lord what about when there was only one set of footprints, and also a straight line with bootprints on one side and small, round circles on the other?"

The Lord replied, "Those were the times that you passed out drunk and a pirate carried you in a wheelbarrow."

I swear, New York Bloggers ... they have the OMG posts and comments that make you actually LOL in your HTML. But Todd, please don't fall for the Christmas Blend marketing ploys!

"Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).

Good Things From The Work Day

Michael Kors sample sale in their corporate office with bags and shoes, worth hundreds of dollars, starting at $15 and up (for employees in our building only), catered lunch meeting (sandwiches and salads from Dishes), free make-up and other beauty goodies split among the executive assistants (one of our bosses had received a nice gift bag from a client meeting and didn't want it), boxes and boxes containing bags of Hershey's miniature chocolates (arrived from an advertising client and distributed at approximately 2-3 bags a piece among our division), and hilarious corporate stories ...

One of our high-level executives had once recorded a temporary outgoing message for her office voicemail before leaving for Ireland. Excerpt below:

"This is [name removed]. Please ..... aww fuck ........ You have reached the voicemail of [name removed]. I am out of the office through [date]. Please leave a message and ..."

She had "added to" the message instead of "deleting and rerecording." Awesome.

Wednesdays at 10/9 CST

Scents of the Past

I smelled Rickey on the subway today. It wasn't him, of course - but his smell. A subtle mix of cologne and laundry detergent.

It's crazy how a smell can take you back.

It's crazy how fast "far back" continues to get.

Look to the Cookie, Elaine

In our team's weekly meeting today, my boss reported that there were a lot of intoxicated Irish and Irish-for-a-day types wandering the cross streets of midtown by noon: "One woman was so drunk she could barely cross 42nd and Madison."

There may be few cities in the United States that take St. Patrick's Day as seriously as New York does (or like White people do). It feels as prevalent in the streets as Christmas. Ok. Maybe not Christmas. It's like the spring version of Thanksgiving and beer is the turkey.

Last year, I was Irish twice. Once in Hoboken in early March and a second time in Manhattan on the 17th. The bars of the surrounding boroughs can't compete with Manhattan's alcohol establishments on the nationally-recognized St. Patrick's Day so the only solution is to have multiple St. Patrick's Days within a 25-mile radius of the city. It's quite nice.

Today everyone and everything was Irish, even the classic Black and White Cookie. "The cookie that says 'New York'" was saying, "Eat me. I'm Irish" today.


Phone Photo Op - The Green and White Cookie in the window of The Breadstix Cafe on 8th Avenue at 23rd Street. On a day when 99.9% of New York City was looking to the beer, Breadstix reminded us that we can still - we can always - look to the cookie. Because "if we can't look to the cookie, where can we look?"

"The thing about eating the Black and White cookie, Elaine, is you want to get some black and some white in each bite. Nothing mixes better than vanilla and chocolate. And yet somehow racial harmony eludes us. If people would only look to the cookie all our problems would be solved."
- Jerry Seinfeld, Seinfeld episode no. 74, "The Dinner Party"

Phone Photo Ops - Ice Cube Stalagmites

It's almost time for Spring Sundays again! I'm really looking forward to my city walks.

And in what appears to be a new tradition in strange Sunday phone photo ops and burning questions, how exactly does this happen?

Phone Photo Ops - Rare Sighting & Chocolate Confessions

I received the following text yesterday afternoon: "Hey, we're having a party at my friend's place in the west village, huge apartment! Then stretch hummer to go to Marquee. Come, it should be fun! Let me know"

So my girls and I decided not to go see a band performing in the Lower East Side and redirected our plans to the west. I hate hummers (because they are not environmentally friendly and they just look stupid), but getting to the clubs in the West 27th Street region of the island can be a headache on foot. My girls and I have done the walk from 28th and Seventh many a time when vacant cabs are scarce.

While we were all impressed with the high ceilings and tall windows of the West Village apartment of a lawyer for a prestigious New York-based law firm*, I was most intrigued by the presence of this handy appliance.

*Partnered by a former New York mayor.

After drinks, pizza delivery from Two Boots, and three bowls of Ben & Jerry's pistachio ice cream from the lawyer's refrigerator (all three bowls consumed exclusively by me), we squeezed two guys and about 15 girls (not an exaggeration) into a stretch and went to Marquee, where I stuffed myself with their fabulous little chocolate squares and strawberries.

The mid-Clicquot sip and chocolatey aftermath are featured below.



The morning-after chocolates I pilfered upon exiting the booth at the end of the night using Demi Moore's strategic chocolate swipe from Indecent Proposal.

While the night was quite enjoyable overall and ended with Iris and I crashing at an investment banker's highrise apartment in east midtown after a pit stop at Ray's, the evening was most noteable for what may have been my first encounter with a Manhattan-based dishwashing device.

United Colors of Benetton

Tonight is Girls' Night.
Meet the cast of characters from my nightlife in New York City.
We're like the United Nations or a gang of Disney Fairies.



Clockwise from top (with fairy correlation):
Natasha M., (Tasha) the film and TV voice over/actress (the adorable blonde)
Ra, the shoe designer (the token Black hottie*)
Iris, the handbag designer (the gorgeous White girl with an ass)
Mayra, the international manufacturing, research and multimedia supervisor (the Equedorian with the entire exotic package, including the sexy accent)
Me, executive assistant, blog author (the half Filipina/half White girl with long hair)

*Featured as the Token Black Fairy in our Disney remake and representing for:
Gina, the fashion merchandiser who just moved to LA
Debasha, the fashion corporate merchandise planner

Other main characters:
Tokii, the best friend, whose acting career takes her away from the city more and more and takes my heart with her wherever she goes (the next Tia & Tamara Mowry by appearance; next Angela Bassett by trade)
Annisha, the publishing marketer (the Caribbean beauty)
Candice, the sexy flight attendant (the Black Southern belle)
Cassie, the Connecticut-based, soon-to-be-fulltime-New Yorker, hot nanny that I would never hire to be eye candy for my husband in my home, and one of the top five prettiest people I've ever seen in real life (Puerto Rican with a Southern accent - does it get any hotter than that?)

The most interesting part of the above list is that all of us, with the exception of Annisha (from Trinidad & Tobago), are from or have lived in North Carolina.

There aren't too many Disney references that can be applied to our unmarried-gals-in-the-city lives, but this blog is full of cliché Sex and the City quotes. Many of my cliché moments are inspired by the most important women in my life within the five boroughs ... although that area is quickly expanding to encompass the world.

Phone Photo Op - Not Recommended

This may be the bravest act I have ever witnessed
of a fellow NYC commuter.

All white in the subway.

India with Extended Family

Last night I joined the aunt from Syracuse and her family-by-marriage for dinner at Tamarind, an Indian restaurant in east midtown. Dinner was delicious, conversation was great, and having family in the city is fabulous.

David (the son of my aunt's second husband) works in publishing, and Charlene (David's wife) is a corporate event planner. Both based in Manhattan. Both very successful. And both full of New Yorker-isms.

When I arrived 40 minutes late because of late-night publishing/ advertising blah, resulting from a morning of ribbon-tying for an upcoming event, followed by the frustration of trying to find a cab in midtown between 5 and 9pm, they were forgiving and armed with wine. When I had confimed by cell that I was five minutes away, Charlene had said, "That's New Yorker speak for 'I'm at 96th and West End.'"

Despite the fact that David and Charlene live in Brooklyn with their adorable son (of whom I have only seen adorable photos) and Charlene sent me a welcome gift while I was living on the air mattress in the living room in the Bronx (the title of that post is "Cockroaches Not Welcome Here" but that's not what she sent), it took a year and a half for us to get together ... and for me to get my New York State driver license.

David said something that I wanted to make the "quote of the evening" in my blog, but the wine haze has clouded it over. If I ever remember what it was, I'll have to update this post.

I decided I liked Charlene immediately, but fell in love with her when she refused dessert and then told her husband that he needed to order the cheese cake. Any man, who has been in a relationship with a woman for longer than five minutes, knows what that means.

Since Terrence is still in England and wasn't present to order a dessert for me to eat most of nibble on, here is a camera phone photo of my flourless chocolate cake with raspberry filling.

Phone Photo Op - Card-Carrying Member of NYC

My New York State driver license arrived in the mail today. It only took me a year and a half to apply for one, but only through fault and procrastination of my own, which - by definition - made me a law breaker. As noted on the New York State's Department of Motor Vehicles website, "if you become a resident of NYS, you must get a NYS driver license within 30 days and surrender your out-of-state driver license."

However, it wasn't my need to return to the population of law-abiding, proper-license holding citizens. But motivated by an inane desire to flash a New York I.D. at night clubs and bars - rather than my old North Carolina one - I finally headed over to License X-press, Manhattan's solution for what would otherwise be a painful afternoon at the DMV lined up behind thousands of New Yorkers.

The process, overall, was not full pain. I arrived at one of the DMV's satellite offices on 34th and Eighth on March 4 at noon armed with all of the documents deemed necessary by the DMV powers that be. I waited in line for a signature card (less than 2 minutes), waited in line for a eye test and photo (about 15 minutes), waited for my ticket number to be called (about 30 minutes) so that window 9 could review my documents (about five minutes), waited for my ticket number to be called again (about 20 minutes) so I could pay $46 to window 7, turn in my NC license and accept an interim license* (about five minutes).

*A piece of paper to keep in my wallet while awaiting my Photo Document so I've been carrying my Passport to night clubs and bars.

Now I get to carry this ...


... And in classic dorky Katie, feel like a real New Yorker.

Phone Photo Op - Train Rehearsal

In New York City, you're more likely to unintentionally memorize a scene while listening to an actor rehearse their lines on the subway.

"Things I Love" Thursdays - NYC Headlines

As the sexual history of politicians has shown, there is indeed more than one way to get ahead.

I wish I had my camera phone while I was running on the treadmill before this morning. On the row of stationary bikes in front of me, almost every newspaper was turned to this double-page spread in the New York Post: The Gal Who Laid Gov Low

The headlines across New York newspapers have been hilarious today.

"Things I Love" Thursdays are inspired by "I Love New York" (BNY, February 14, 2007).

Phone Photo Op - All Zipped Up

What I found hilarious by this scene is that it wasn't that cold outside.


Zoom view

Phone Photo Op - Morning View

From my boss's office, birds' eye view of Bryant Park


... where I will be enjoying spring lunches, summer Monday night movies and autumn breezes.

Phone Photo Op - Evening View

Chrysler sunset


Left the office an hour late and it was still light outside. I hate daylight savings' "spring forward" in the morning, but I love it in the evening.

I'll Always Be 12

So my mom sent me an email a few weeks ago, which is likely a direct result of this post and this post. The general tone, in four sentences, was motherly criticism regarding my use of fowl language and how "it may be normal for most people" but "it still isn't nice," and "it may sound cute if you accidentally say it when 'surprised,' but to do it as part of a normal sentence makes the difference between couth and uncouth."

I sighed. Closed my personal email. Took a sip from my steaming mug of green tea. Began my corporate day in a Manhattan skyscraper. Come on, Mom, I thought. I'm 28!

I was going to completely ignore her email and not issue a direct response via reply or indirectly via my blog. Then I read Chelsea Talks Smack's March 2nd post:

I'm sorry Granny (yes she reads my blog and now knows entirely too much inappropriate information about me), cousins, DAD, uncles, etc. Please forgive me for what I'm about to do -but, it's fucking human nature. So, go check your e-mail and return tomorrow. I wouldn't want to completely tarnish your pure vision of me as a little girl on Easter Sunday pointing out the color of tulips and looking all, cute and shit. Plus, if the idea that I'm not a virgin anymore is too much for you to handle, you may want to click the little red X at the top right corner of this page. Ciao.

Read more if you don't know Chelsea or if you know Chelsea and can handle that she is no longer a virgin.

Prepare for run-on sentence:
And I realized that - if Chelsea still has to apologize in advance to a family as cool as hers (check out the "Would You Punch Granny???" post) for real, raw and open topics that I only wish I had the guts to post, and East Village Idiot features reviews like:

"The best site on the World Wide Internet. Although he could cut down on the profanity a bit." - Chris' Mom"

... and Irish and Jew, hilarious 20-something New York bloggers, are smart enough to not tell their mothers that they have a blog - then I am not the only one with parents who frown upon my choice of language and personal decisions, but are still pretty cool, in general-ish. So I will accept my parents' criticisms with a grain of salt and appreciate the fact that I have parents who care enough to express criticisms that I can accept with a grain of salt.

But I still won't like it. I'm 28!

Phone Photo Op - Double Yokes and Oftens

I realize the weather was fairly mild last week, but it is freezing outside today. Why hasn't the building management turned back on the heat that is supposed to be included in my monthly rent along with the hot water, which often is not hot?

And why am I often cracking open twins from cartons of Grade A Jumbo Eggs distributed by Robert Nelms Egg Co., Bronx, NY 10488?


And why can I not stop craving Hauraches de Queso from Picante on Broadway and 139th?

Oh yea ...
Because my building management sucks.
I buy eggs from C Town.
Hauraches de Queso from Picante are awesome.

Reviews of Views

My best friend has been reviewed by The New York Times!

From nytimes.com:
... The problem is that we see all of them through the distancing filter of narration. And even though the narrator is the endearingly astute and precocious Claudia, we never shake the knowledge that it’s the analytical, literary, unmistakable voice of Toni Morrison telling us the story. Bobbi Baker is just terrific as Claudia, easily conveying both her adult perspective on the events of her girlhood and the child’s more limited understanding of them. But even as a child, Claudia is bright enough to resent Shirley Temple’s blue eyes rather than envy them ...

And hartfordstage.org:
... If Pecola is the central character, she is not the voice of the play. That role belongs to Claudia (Bobbi Baker) and, to a lesser extent, her sister Frieda (Ronica Reddick). The girls are neighbors of Pecola's family, the Breedloves, and both function almost as narrators. It is the sisters who explain at the start of the play that Pecola "had her father's baby" and then invite an exploration of "the ugly, untidy 'how' of it." Feisty, funny and confident, Claudia and Frieda also serve as counterpoint to the fragile, somber and self-negating Pecola, whose name resembles that of the mulatto child, Peola, in the 1934 film "Imitation of Life."

Ting's cast performs beautifully. Baker is especially fine, demonstrating the intelligence and spirit of a black girl whose response to getting a white baby doll for Christmas is to pull off its legs and head. She and Reddick convincingly play sisters, messing with each other or bonding tightly when, in one scene, they are set upon by a new classmate, the pretty new white student called Maureen Pearl (Shelley Thomas). Oduye brings a sweetness and fragility to Pecola, the young girl who is unaware of the roots of her yearnings and whose life is an expression of society's injustices. Miche Braden is the archetypal Mama, a loving, firm, put-upon woman who keeps her children in line and mouths off when necessary. Leon Addison Brown manifests the virility, confusion and loneliness that lead him to "claim his manhood in a manner unthinkable, unspeakable ..."

"The Song Stuck in Your Head" From Hell

If I were a commercial actor, there are three types of commercials I would not want to do:

1) Herpes
2) Diarrhea
3) Optimum Triple Play

Search-Term Saturday: Foreshadowing of a Future Profession?

Maybe if my rent goes up 200% again next year.

I know my "Search-Term Saturdays" are pretty sporadic. With a blog that doesn't particularly boast or seek a lot of traffic, I don't always have amusing or interesting referrals. In fact, I have anxiety whenever traffic happens to spike above 50 unique visitors in one day, and I go back through recent posts to make sure I didn't reveal anything that I shouldn't have about a family member or friend. Link to related post

But just when I was telling my NYC Blogger girls at dinner last Wednesday that I have never been linked* to anything [and by "anything," I meant any sites that are more or less "official" like gawker.com ... ahem], I have been linked by a porn site called a-lok.net as "A Collage of Girls Stripping at hostel Campus." Someone in Calcutta visited my blog via that link.**

*DrunkBrunch's post on an odd visit to the gynecologist, where a doctor's assistant "hit on [her] mid-vag" - Gawker's Blogorrhea

*Misguided Misadventures in NYC's "Salt in the Wound" or "Irish Enough" - by Gawker's Blogorrhea

**I'm the second "A Collage of Girls Stripping at hostel Campus" link, but I wouldn't click on it at a-lok. Maybe it's phishing site and it definitely doesn't take you to a collage of girls stripping at a hostel campus. Not yet anyway. Stop back by after/if I renew my lease in November.

Phone Photo Op - No Jersey in Sight

[Not] Overlooking the Hudson River at 1:30 this afternoon


For the view on a good day, click here.

M-I-C-K-E-Y ... M-O-NYC

On my way to meet City Wendy, DrunkBrunch and Misguided Misadventures in NYC for an uptown dinner at China de Puebla last night - for which I was running late, of course - I suddenly realized that I didn't know exactly where I was going - other than somewhere in my neighborhood. I texted DrunkBrunch: "Where am I going again?"

That's the life of an executive assistant, working late and so busy managing someone else's life, I can't keep track of my own. That's why all of my bills are on auto-pay, including (or perhaps especially) my rent.

I wish I could share some of the hilarious conversation from last night, but I will reserve it with my private memories out of respect for blogger anonymity. I will, however, disclose that the evening ended with multiple sightings of an unexpected and bold four-legged guest.

From MMNYC's morning-after email:
"I was shrieking at the waiter, like he could do something (Amanda, you are kind to use the nicer word, assertive, but really I am just bossy as hell), Wendy was keeping her screams contained [and then let them out on Broadway], Katie was pleading with the waiter not to kill our furry friend [at least not in front of us] ... ridiculous! I CANNOT believe that happened!!! ... But OTHER THAN THAT, I'm glad we got together, uptown-mouse style!! Let's do it again soon."

DrunkBrunch wrote a charming haiku to summarize our evening.

A very tasty meal, an adorable restaurant, fabulous women, great conversation. And a mouse. So New York.

La China de Puebla presents a unique menu and celebrates a beautiful Asian-Mexican legend. In an effort to redeem the restaurant in light of the mouse-sighting, here is a phone photo op of my delicious dessert:


From the restaurant's website and as featured on their cocktail menu:

Phone Photo Op - Times Square Police Line

On my way to the gym before work, Times Square was blocked to all pedestrian traffic.


And while running on the treadmill, I learned that Times Square had been opened to vehicular traffic only a few hours earlier following a 3:45 a.m. bombing.

Update: In Times Square Blast, Echos of Earlier Bombings

Phone Photo Op - The Secret of the Ooze

Today's "What the Hell is That?" city moment is brought to you by the Coalition of Mail Service Patrons Who Want to Know Why the Bryant Park Post Office Employees are Always in Such a Bad Mood.


Taken outside of the Bryant Park Post Office today around lunchtime.

Quick, someone get me some knunchucks and a turtle.

High Caloric Weekend

The increased calorie intake actually began on Wednesday with drinks and dinner at Divine Bar West with an old North Carolina college friend visiting from Chicago. As the Vodka Sodas (my signature drink) and Vodka Gimlets (his) flowed, we began to realize just how far from Cullowhee we really are. It's amazing, the clarity that comes with low-level intoxication.

"I never would have believed," I said, "Back when we would walk by each other and nod on campus - you in your over-sized hooded sweatshirts, and me in my velour sweatsuits - that we would one day be in a trendy Manhattan lounge miles and years away from North Carolina, sipping trendy drinks and eating gourmet chocolates given to me by a celebrity chef [I didn't add, 'You in smooth business casual and me in a black dress and 4" patton leather pumps']."

While we both agreed that we wouldn't change our pasts and that we appreciated all North Carolina had provided in our lives, there was nothing left back there for either of us. Then, we swapped our big city stories - both good and bad - but mostly good. And we toasted Chicago and New York.
*****
Thursday night was dinner at a friend's apartment in Harlem, where I inhaled two pieces of steak that he cooked on a grill - even though I don't typically eat beef - steamed broccoli and wine, followed by a popsicle, two packs of fruit snacks and a late-night trip to McDonalds for a hot fudge sundae and two cookies that we devoured in the McDonalds parking lot (there is actually a drive-thru on Broadway and 125th!).
*****
Friday night was dinner at Park Avenue Winter, a restaurant that changes its name, menu and decor with the seasons, and a going away party at Kush for Gina B., who is moving to Los Angeles. All weekend long, I was quoting Samantha from "Sex and the City," "I'm always surprised when anyone leaves New York. I mean, where do they go?"

Where do you go once you've lived here? As someone once said to me while we were dining in Morandi, "If you were in North Carolina right now, you'd be sitting around with your friends watching a Reese Witherspoon movie, talking about how much you love her."

While I know that's a comical exaggeration, I know that if I left New York for anywhere else right now, I'd ultimately wake up one morning and wonder what the hell I was doing there. Maybe I'll feel differently in a 5-10 years.
*****
In the meantime, I rounded out my weekend high above Columbus Circle at Asiate at the top of the Mandarin Oriental with a three-course brunch and mimosas. Then, the Sunday dinner crew (Iris, Keith, T and Olu) came to my apartment on Broadway Sunday night for a once-a-month ritual we started at Iris' apartment on Lenox in December, went to Olu and T's apartment in Jamaica Queens in January, and brought to my place for February (even though it was already the first weekend of March). Next is Keith's in Long Island, though I think we'll make him bring the menu to Harlem.
*****
It's five days and eight pounds later, and I just returned from an industry event at The Bowery Hotel, where a fellow executive assistant and I (attending on behalf of our bosses) downed complimentary champagne, mango martinis and tiny hor'dourves served on silver trays. We sat on the private terrace bundled in our jackets and scarves - just warm enough from the alcohol and the overhead space heaters - while she smoked cigarettes, laughing about how "Sex and the City" we were.

And I have more communal eating with friends this week. This is good news for neither the wallet nor the waistline.