NYC

Mar 14

Written By admin

What a treat. And "treat" is a modest word for our 3 evenings in New York City. Showered. Grafted into unconditional family-love. Blessed. (We have been friends with Marco for 13 years and have celebrated his many accomplishments alongside his parents...and now, a b-day in his new town, Manhattan)

We arrived Thursday evening (after a sweet drop off of Robby to g-ma's and g-pa's) and headed with Corrine and Marco to "Five Napkin Burger" on 84th and Broadway....just a stone's throw away from M's apartment.

Woke up for a jog in Central Park. Drizzling but still lovely views of the park. The four of us were our own team in matching sweatsuits. Then a homemade savory brunch (scrambled eggs with goat cheese and shittake mushrooms) and we're off to the Metropolitan Museum of Art! I just love Degas. Something fluid about him, rich, unhindered, a bent toward the feminine everyday. I did my senior thesis on his life crossing paths with Mary Cassat and Kate Chopin and I have thought about him ever since.

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(I stared at this one for a while. Real up-close. Ah.)

Then to a tapas restaurant for dinner. Finished at M's favorite little dive-bar-juke box joint: Jimmy's Corner. Time Squareish. A great conversation or three. (Rob is going to be designing some ads for Time Square! Scoped it out...)

Woke up to a sweet brunch: french toast with marscarpone cheese, bananas, cherries and mimosas. Yum. Off to my first Broadway show ever: In the Heights. I danced, cried, laughed, practiced my spanish and swayed with the cast and crew for 2.5 hours. (All the while hoping I might be discovered...you think?) And it was a gift. For crying out loud. Truly.

Grand finale: Babbo. Yikes. Mario Batali as owner. Never, ever have I had melt-in-your-mouth pasta like that. And 5 courses....followed by 5 desserts. What??? Yep.

We toasted to Marco throughout the evening, wishing him health, love, longevity, elephants. It was magical and refreshing. I told stories of a Germany I have never known (on behalf of my husband and his ridiculous near- Mrs. Robinson experiences). We recalled how my husband had cat-like reflexes to pull open a subway door to save the life of a woman with her arm caught - the speed and heroism in him like his father. We spoke of how each marriage or relationship came to be. Of hallways in a cheap European hotel that narrowed the further north you got - feeling like Alice in Wonderland.

The time sounds fantastical. I've only written a slice of it, good people. And did I mention there was rain? Never mind you.

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