The Lemon Ice King of Corona

It is not often that I wake up dreaming of the dessert I had the night before.  Indeed, my brain often conspires to help me forget caloric indulgences as quickly as possible.

There was no forgetting the miracle I encountered last night, though:  The Lemon Ice King of Corona.  It is in Corona, Queens, far off the beaten track for me, and I had never even heard of it until last night.  Enter my friends G & E, who recommended that we stop there after a beautiful afternoon at Atlantic beach and dinner at Jordan's Lobster.

Oh my.  I have had ices before, but never like this.  Ingeniously blended with real pieces of fruit, perfectly textured and served at exactly the right temperature.  G laughed at my stunned and dreamy expression when I tasted her peanut butter serving.  I adored my coconut choice.  And E's spumoni was spectacular.  I loved G's flavor so much I ordered a second serving just for myself.

TLIKoC was established 60 years ago by the Benfaremo family.  Apparently they've had offers to franchise it, but have refused. The corner shop is across the street from a small park that features a bocce ball court encircled by lights and flags, and was in use with a multitude of spectators.  Outdoor chess and card games were also in play throughout the park.

A point of pride: Award of Distinction from Zagat:

How to choose??

Cheap ($1.50 for small!), and strict: Don't ask for two flavors!  One at a time...

As soon I got home I looked up the address to see how long it would take to get there again from the Upper East Side via public transportation.  It would require two trains and 22 minutes of walking time; 1 hour 15 minutes total.  For one small serving of Lemon Ice King of Corona's ice?  Unquestionably worth it, and I'm already planning my next trip.

 

Piano Men

Music is especially powerful when it is encountered in an unexpected place.  Or in an unexpected form.

A recent visit to the Museum of Modern Art with E brought a wondrous spectacle and delightful sound:

Yes, that is a hole in the piano.... the artist arrived on the scene, sneaked in under the piano, and thread his body halfway out.  He bent over the keys and started the performance.  Ode to Joy, of sorts.  Beethoven.  Several minutes in, the artist started walking with the piano, the crowd first parting to allow him to pass, and then following him around the atrium.  Grins broke out throughout the crowd.

The performances even made the New York Times smile: I just popped out to play Beethoven

This weekend a longtime friend was in town, and we walked through Washington Square Park on a frigid Saturday.  The cold did not deter this pianist, and the notes of the theme song from the film The Piano floated out to meet us.   A mystery as to how the piano got there, and the pianist's fingers managed to stay flexible in the freezing temperature.  His presence and his playing simply made us happy (and him a little richer!).

Doughnut Heaven

The Lower East Side further disclosed its treasures to me this afternoon.  After a delicious brunch with three friends at Schiller's Liquor Bar (recommended), I remembered that a place I had long wanted to visit was nearby.

"Hey guys, do you want to go to the Doughnut Plant?"

All three of them perked up.  Nevermind that we had just finished a huge brunch.  Dessert beckoned.

The Doughnut Plant was just a few blocks away, and we knew we were close when we saw the line.

I immediately knew I was in trouble when I read the sign.  How on earth to choose?

And these were just highlights.  We quickly learned that the menu features both yeast and cake doughnuts of varying flavors.  

The doughnuts were huge-- easily the size of one's entire hand and then some.  Between the four of us, we ordered Tres Leches cake doughnut, Vanilla Glaze yeast doughnut, Strawberry Jam yeast doughnut.   A's choice, the first photo above, is Carrot Cake, with cream cheese frosting tucked inside.  The PJ&J, with peanut glaze and a strawberry jam filling was also magical:

Collectively, the doughnuts were easily the best any of us had ever eaten.  Airy and moist, with the rich heady flavors that can only come from authentic, non-processed ingredients.  Pure bliss.

Sex And The City Lives On

As a single woman living in New York City, it's impossible to not think about SATC once in awhile, particularly when I am running around and having entirely too much fun with my single girlfriends.

And so it was today.  It's an achingly beautiful autumn day, on the warm edge of cool, and a deep blue sky.  One of my dearest friends, W, just moved to town (I am still astounded by my good fortune), and we met up with our mutual friend A for brunch at Extra Virgin, a charming restaurant in the West Village.  We caught up on each other's lives-- careers, relationships, travels-- with our usual openness, sly commentary and wisecracks.   We weren't done talking by the time we finished our meal, and left in search of a park.

 Walking down Perry Street, A pointed out a brownstone with a "No Trespassing" sign:

It is, of course, Carrie Bradshaw's "apartment".  Perfect.

Surprised By Joy

If you had asked me ten years ago- or even five- how I would greet the prospect of turning forty, the words "with great joy" would not have been uttered during our conversation. 

And so it was with surprise that I turned forty this month with glee, not glumness, with delight, not doldrums, with joy, not sorrow.  Now that I am here, I am astonished by the traditional black balloons and 'over the hill' merchandise.  Are there people who really feel that way?  That has no place in my life, and those sentiments were not at all present this weekend.  Instead, my feelings were beautifully summed up in one of the cards I received:

Today a new sun rises for me;

everything lives, everything is animated,

everything seems to speak to me of my passion,

everything invites me to cherish it."

- Anne De Lenclos

(Oh my... I just looked up the author on Wiki, and now love this quote even more: Ninon De L'Enclos)

Ah, the weekend.  This weekend was full of friends, celebration, fun and laughter. Three dear friends traveled long distances to help me celebrate this milestone.   T flew in from Minnesota.  W hopped on a bus in Vermont.  And K traveled in from DC.  The group expanded on Saturday night, when my NYC girlfriends joined us for a delicious and lively birthday dinner.

New York is a wonderful place to be a hostess.  Walk outside your door, and the possibilities are endless.  For Saturday brunch, our small group found our way to Teany, an airy & light-filled tea shop and vegetarian cafe owned by the musician Moby.  Half the fun was getting there, and walking a bit on the Lower East Side.  The store signs are in a jumble of languages, with intriguing restaurants and shops every few steps.  Definitely a place I need to spend more time exploring.

The Marina Abramovic exhibition I had seen a couple weeks ago was still on my mind, and I thought that my friends would appreciate its intensity and sheer rawness.  They did.  And thanks to an amazing benefit of MoMA (Museum of Modern Art) membership ($75/individual, which I had already purchased-- with up to five $5 guest passes each visit), it was an affordable spectacle.

The weather was perfect, and after time in a museum- and after seeing the intense Abramovic show- time outside was a must.  We walked down to Bryant Park Grill, an outdoor cafe that looks out on the park.  Perfect weather, perfect company. And a perfect waitress.  Once she realized that I was celebrating my 40th, she continually brought over any 'extra' drinks that had been mistakenly poured.  So we had a bit more than originally planned-!  The fun starting gaining additional momentum when my friend M finished her volunteer work in Harlem and joined us, bearing artful and exquisite cupcakes, as evidenced above.

More NYC-based girlfriends joined us for dinner at Chola, a wonderful Indian restaurant on East 58th Street.  Delicious food, attentive service, cozy atmosphere.  It made me so happy to have all of these strong, spirited, fearless friends gather around me and cheer as I walked into my fourth decade.  Women from several different stages of my life, many of whom arrived as strangers to each other and departed friends.

I am so blessed.  My path has not always been an easy one, and my current situation is certainly not perfect.  The hardships of life- serious medical diagnoses, relationship woes, infertility, job loss, death--have recently visited those that I care about deeply.  I continue to be greatly challenged by my work and the energy it requires of me.  I am happy, though, and have no wish to be anywhere other than where I am right now, or to be anyone other than who I am today. 

A string of happy moments

New York provides small delights even when one is in the midst of a very intense work week.  I'm in the middle of a huge project, and was at work until midnight last night (don't worry -- today I wised up and delegated about half of my plate to my team).  At 10 past midnight, I was amused to step onto the train and discover that it was packed with people.  The train was as full as morning rush hour.  It was nice to have company.

Alas, I had boarded the wrong train.  It was going the right direction, but that particular one didn't stop at my street.  I disembarked to pick up the right train, and while waiting saw the new cover of People magazine at a little shop.  Sandra Bullock adopted a baby!  I love Sandra B, and immediately pulled out my wallet.  The price of the magazine: $4.50.  The contents of my wallet: $4.25.  I was crestfallen.  The shopkeeper immediately insisted that I take the magazine.  "We are friends", he said.  "You take the magazine, and tomorrow you can give me the rest".  So sweet, especially given that he had never seen me before. I resolved to honor his request, even though I am almost never in that particular station.  I devoured the magazine on the way home.

I left work at a reasonable hour today to meet my long-time friend J.  We met in Chinese class at university, and see each other every few (or several) years.  He was traveling through the city for work.  It was so wonderful to see him, and to essentially pick up the conversation right where we left it four years ago. 

I was in a great mood as we parted, and decided to walk towards the subway station that housed the generous shopkeeper.  Along the way I encountered a very long line, about 50 people long.

What on earth?  Here's what they were waiting for:

Unfortunately I wasn't hungry for savory food, but the tacos smelled divine.  Another time.  I did encounter a Mr Softee truck several blocks later, one of a huge army of ice cream trucks that seem to invade the city whenever it gets past a certain temperature.  I am a sucker for vanilla softserve ice cream, and I couldn't resist.  Plus the vendor called me sweetheart.  Delicious all around.

Further down on 53rd Street, I heard rushing water.  A fountain, and- surprise!- a segment of the Berlin Wall were tucked into a little cove.  I was in Berlin a couple years ago, and loved it, so it was wonderful to see this reminder of the city.

I continued walking to the metro station, and upon my descent found the little store.  The shopkeeper wasn't there, but two other men were, and they smiled at my offering of the quarter and the story for why I was handing them 25 cents.  While I was waiting for my last train, I realized that two of my favorite musicians, playing under a banner that said "Lankandia Cissoko (African Criot, Kora Player)" were playing a few steps down.  I leaned against a pillar and let several trains go by as the rippling, dreamy music washed over me.

Small treasures are to be found on even the most challenging of days.

Love & Life at Bryant Park

I spent most of the day exploring the city, and needed a place to rest mid-morning.  I had always thought of Bryant Park as a sweet little place, but hadn't spent much time there, and never understood why people often mentioned it as their favorite park.

I know why now.

I wandered in, and first encountered this:

and this:

Pretty enough, I thought.  Workers were laying down sod, as the New York Fashion Week and an ice skating rink had both occupied the main lawn.

I was impressed by the generous number of chairs and tables-- hundreds, if not a thousand or so.  Out of the corner of my eye, a hint of brass caught my attention:

I wonder what it says?

I was touched to the core.  Bryant Park is the 'back porch' of the New York Public Library, and it was beautiful to see someone honored in such a way.  A simple word, reader, conveying the essence of one's soul.

Are there others?  I launched into exploration mode, and covered the entire park, seeking brass plates.  I was overwhelmed by what I found:

The above plaque reads: "She has been the unspoken half of everything I ever wrote, and both halves of many a thing. Kathryn and Dan, October 21, 2006"

"To WRW: Love blossomed here, still it blooms, now and forevermore. All my love, ARN"

And my favorite, which reads: "To Kerstin, "my little turnip", this is your chair, let's come to NYC again. Sit down, rest, and I'll fetch the coffee. I love you!"

By the time I covered the entire park, I had tears in my eyes.  They come again now, unbidden, as I sort through these photographs.  My faith in love and the human spirit was strengthened this morning, as I wandered through this field of chairs gently whispering to the world, forever capturing magical moments and honoring beautiful souls, those who are still here and those who have moved on.

Three hours on Sunday afternoon

I met my friend M. at the Morgan Library & Museum this afternoon.  No, I hadn't heard of it either.  It's quite grand-- it's an expanded version of the private library of financier Piedmont Morgan. They had a small but exquisite exhibit of the letters of Jane Austen (the library owns 51 of them, more than any other institution in the world) as well as illustrated Flemish manuscripts from the 1500s. 

Both exhibits were interesting, but it was the actual Morgan library that really inspired awe.  Unfortunately cameras were not allowed, but if you follow this link (and, if you're ambitious, check out the rest of the website) you'll see why my eyes were wide and my mouth open:

  http://www.themorgan.org/about/campusEnlarge.asp?id=11

Can you imagine having something like that in your home?  Rich in every aspect of the word.

After we had our fill, we headed to a little tea shop.  M. pulled out a little treasure that she had been wanting to share with me:

How did she happen to be in possession of a very small Chinese bill?  She had purchased an umbrella, a bright red one, from a local pharmacy.  She caught sight of a piece of paper in the folds of the fabric.  And there it was.  It was so reminiscent of my own little treasure (see my very first blog entry, Cold nose, warm heart) we could only laugh.  If I remember correctly, gift money is often enclosed in red envelopes in the Chinese culture.  Did someone far away tuck this in the umbrella, with hopes that a stranger would find it and smile?  A modern version of a message in a bottle, kindness across the miles.

G's sparkle

I spent time tonight with friends G. and M.  It is still a revelation that I can see certain long-time friends virtually anytime I want now, whereas it used to be perhaps once or twice a year.  Of course, in order to gain this privilege I've had to give up frequent rendezvous with my DC friends.  It would be nice if all of my people could live in one city together.  At least for awhile.

I was especially looking forward to seeing G, or more specifically, G's hand.  A couple months ago she mentioned to me that she and her boyfriend were planning to get engaged, but the ring had become a source of stress.  I can't solve the world's problems, but this issue is one I can help fix-- my sister works in the jewelry industry, and has a trusted jeweler she recommends to anyone looking for an engagement ring.  G wasn't sure at first, but in the end realized that the quality for the price was very fair, and she liked the jeweler.  And so, my sister and I helped to get this very dear woman engaged:

It was wonderful to see the smile on her face, the insane sparkle of the ring, and her sense of contentedness and calm.  It helped give me hope that perhaps someday, in this crazy city, I'll find a valentine of my own.  inshallah.