to Times Square, where the sign
blows smoke over my head, and higher
the waterfall pours lightly. A
Negro stands in a doorway with a
toothpick, languorously agitating.
A blonde chorus girl clicks: he
smiles and rubs his chin. Everything
suddenly honks: it is 12:40 of
Neon in daylight is a
great pleasure, as Edwin Denby would
write, as are light bulbs in daylight.
I stop for a cheeseburger at JULIET’S
CORNER. Giulietta Masina, wife of
Federico Fellini, è bell’ attrice.
And chocolate malted. A lady in
foxes on such a day puts her poodle
in a cab.
Frank O’Hara, “A Step Away from Them“
Saturday was a day that required to be spent outside. Despite the unseasonal coolness the sun was out in force, and I had an itinerary that was to take me all over the city. As I mentioned yesterday and last week (and endlessly last Friday to all of my coworkers who were probably sick hearing me yap about it), Michael is off gallivanting at a conference all week, leaving me to my own devices and plans, both those of a culinary and non-culinary sort.
(To be clear–Michael would be the first to say that he is not so much gallivanting as he is attending talks and languishing in the California suburbia that Weeds captures so effectively in its first three seasons.)
The culinary adventures I will get to in their own posts. Today I simply want to share a little New York sunshine with you.
My grand plans had me going to a bunch of stores all over the city, as shopping is not one of Michael’s favorite pursuits–outside of shopping for meat, knives or suits. Armed with a solid stack of gift cards I browsed J.Crew for much longer than I was expecting and left with some choice new clothes, and then down the D to Despaña where I picked up a few things for dinner and watched as an old Spanish gentleman hand over $150 in cash for a whole leg of jamón serrano (it had been cut down a bit, but still it was quite a bit of ham to purchase on a Saturday afternoon), then up to Eataly to get flat lasagna sheets for dinner (more on that to come), and finally I made my way home because it was getting late and I had yet to do a bit of prep work.
Despite that looming time crunch, I had it in my head as I crossed the pedestrian plaza that at Eataly that I’d get myself a nice glass of wine once I had procured everything I needed. And it was there, in the middle of the mobbed “piazza” section of the store that I realized as I sipped on my glass of Barolo that the only ways to even find the store tolerable is to go at 3PM on a random weekday afternoon (not during a holiday season) and/or be slightly buzzed on a good glass of wine.
Some might say that’s the best way to enjoy the madness of the city itself.