One week and counting

It's hard to believe we're in the final days of our month in New York -- there are still so many things we wanted to do that we haven't gotten to. But Mary Jean warned me that even when they spent three months here last winter, they didn't put a dent in their to-do list, so I was prepared for this.

One thing we just checked off our list today: a trip to Astoria in Queens. It's a surprisingly fast subway ride out there, faster than getting to the Village, but culturally it's so different. It's said to be one of the most ethnically diverse communities in the country, and it sure looked it -- from the faces to the restaurants, it was a real mix. Architecturally, it feels more like a neighborhood in Chicago than like Manhattan, with commercial buildings of maybe four or five stories at most, and a few homes that even had driveways and garages. Archie Bunker lived in Queens. That's what many of the side streets look like.

We had late lunch at a Greek place called Uncle George's, on Jen's recommendation. A whole feast of great food, including some of the best tsadziki I've ever had, for under 20 bucks.

Then we had a spectacular Turkish coffee and dessert at Mombar, a crazy little Egyptian spot where the owner is a former computer guy who's now both the chef and the interior decorator, having designed amazing chandeliers out of pieces of picture frame and intricate tabletops out of buttons. I knew it was my kind of place when there were three dessert choices, and one of them was "chef's surprise." Naturally, I chose that, and was rewarded with this amazing plate of shredded wheat with chopped nuts, half an apple with sweet sauce, ice cream and blueberries. You see it here in front of John.




One of my favorite things about traveling in New York is that instead of being hermetically sealed in the bubble of your own car, you're interacting with the world -- smelling food for sale from carts on the street, and seeing all the little shops in your neighborhood, for example.
Part of this experience is an incredible array of buskers. Now every city has beggars and panhandlers, but in New York, these are real performers. For example, the day after Christmas I was coming home from the overcrowded overrated sale at Macy's when I heard an opera singer down on the train platform. I expected to see either a hipster music student or an old Italian man, but instead a middle-aged Asian guy had set up a full-sized keyboard on a stand and was belting out Amazing Grace for travelers.
Tonight we saw four guys singing Motown, wearing matching sweaters and headset microphones. They even had choreography.
























Christmas in New York was beautiful -- though a steady rain made it more of a wet Christmas than a white Christmas.



We had coffee at Caffe Reggio, the place that was reportedly the first in the U.S. to serve espresso.

Then we played Boggle at Chumley's, next to a real, toasty-warm fireplace. Besides all the literary goodies on the walls, I love that Chumleys always has dogs hanging around.












We finished the night in the East Village at Cucina de Pesce, an Italian place we really like that's in a cozy, downstairs spot and lit almost entirely by candlelight. This photo makes it look really bright -- damned flash! -- but it's actually more romantic and dark, like the black and white one below.