New York Diary: the abbreviated version

Went home to New York for ten days in late October. It's now nearly Christmas and, having been overwhelmed by work and laid low by the flu, I need to face facts: I'm never going to finish this post. Lesson learned. It's too hard to blog retroactively. So here's the incomplete version. It leaves a lot out (particularly Porchetta, which may have been my favorite meal of the trip), but once it's up I can move on.

October 24

We were going to go to New York, but instead spent 11 hours at Heathrow and then flew to Boston. Thanks, Continental. Still, misery loves company, and we had some very good company. Tom from Connecticut and Nerissa and Kelly from Australia were in the same boat, or plane, as it were. It was nearly midnight when we all arrived at Boston's Logan Airport Hilton, and thankfully the bar was open. Tom and I introduced our foreign friends to the exotic delights of the American pub: buffalo wings, quesadillas, shrimp cocktail, Sam Adams.



Just what you need when you have to wake up in five hours to catch a flight to Newark.

October 25

There was a Dunkin' Donuts right next to our gate at Logan. I had a coffee and a glazed donut and boarded the plane in a good mood. At Newark, we said farewell to our traveling companions and caught the train to New York.

Upon arriving in the city, we headed straight for Ess-a-Bagel (51st and 3rd). Still-warm Everything bagel with cream cheese. Heavenly.

What's the deal with the massive line to get into Abercrombie & Fitch (56th and 5th)?

October 26

Breakfast at Veselka (2nd Ave and 9th St.). You can have blintzes or pancakes any time of day or night. I had eggs and kielbasa. Then a nice walk through the east village. Replaced my green Simple shoes with black Simple shoes.



Passed a street fair in midtown and grabbed a candied apple for the trip to Hamilton, NJ to visit the extended family.

October 27

It's important to stop at JG Melon (3rd Ave in the low 70s) for a burger and fries. And iced tea. I'll never understand why you can't get a real iced tea anywhere in England.

Unfortunately, we were still slightly full by the time we went to Babbo (110 Waverly Place). That didn't stop me from sampling the linguine with baby clams; a dish of roasted beets served like caviar with salt, capers, anchovies, and mustard; and the hit of the evening: steamed cockles with chilies and basil. The food was gorgeous, and the Pink Floyd in the background worked for me.