Custer State Park

The Badlands, South Dakota

For the two people who are following my cross-country trek via Mona's Apple, I'm sorry for the delay in bringing you an update. It's been a wonderful trip so far, but the Internet connection in our most recent destination has been a little less than par. I had full bars on PowerBook in my hotel room, yet for some reason I couldn't access the Internet. I'm now rocking in a chair on the front porch of the State Game Lodge fighting off mosquitoes, swallows protecting their nests overhead and bats. All to be close to an Internet connection. I must be sick.

My mom has teased me relentlessly because I've been constantly looking at my phone checking for service. No connection. Connection. Up, no connection. Connection. No connection. No connection. Oh I have a bar... now I have no connection. I swear I've only wanted to send photos to friends of my journey -- I do not need to be on Twitter and Facebook (though it would be nice to upload photos once in a while). Along the way I've spotted landmarks, signs and animals that have reminded me of friends back east and I've wanted to share the photos with them, but to no avail. Now I'll be sending them from Los Angeles a week and a half late.

"I'm in Wall, S.D., LittleMissSunshine!" Actually, no, I'm in Malibu.

The speed with which my mom and I made it halfway across the nation was remarkable. Anyone can drive cross country in four or five days if they put their heart, mind and pedal to the medal. In three days we made it to Custer State Park. My dad was thrilled but in total disbelief.

In the beginning of the trip my mom said each state had a very different feel to it and she was dead on. We went from rolling, lush hills to rolling hills, from rolling farmlands to flat farmlands, from a more desert-like farm country to the forests of Custer. The first three days are a blur. We stopped for the nights in Perrysburg, Ohio, and Sioux Falls, Iowa, before arriving in Custer State Park, S.D. Pretty good after getting stuck on the side of the road for two hours for running out of gas (a mere three hours after our trip began -- not one of my shiniest moments)...

On our way to Mount Rushmore this morning I noticed we had cell phone reception and I quickly called my dad. In the middle of telling him where we were (we'd pulled over because we'd spotted Mt. Rushmore for the first time miles away) I started crying uncontrollably. I didn't know what was wrong with me except I was trying to describe to him the wonder of Custer State Park.

I'd bonded with the wildlife in a matter of 48 hours. My mom and I left the park to go eat dinner last night at a great spot in Custer (Sage Creek Grille) and I felt a strange sense of abandonment, like we'd left the animals, like we'd left our home. I missed the buffalo, the pronghorns, the turkey, the deer and the prairie dogs. When we turned onto 16A and I saw the "Entering Custer State Park" sign I felt a huge sense of relief. Along the way to our hotel we stopped in three spots to admire three lone buffalo on the side of the road and I wanted to get out of the car and curl up and sleep next to the gentle beasts (I know they're not gentle, they are actually one of the deadliest animals of this region, ahead of moose and bears) but they have shown nothing but calm and stoicism towards us invading their realm.

I must turn in because we have an early morning tomorrow -- we head to Yellowstone -- but below are a few of our trip highlights.

Mt. Rushmore

Crazy Horse

Legion Lake, Custer State Park

adorable bunny in the Badlands

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Day 2 of Road Trip 2010

Galena, Illinois

Cross-country statistics:

Miles traveled: 1,346
States crossed: 5
Meals eaten: 2
Hours Driven: 22 (writing this at 1:40 a.m. CT and we left at 11 a.m. ET 6/26)
Coffees consumed: 2
Number of times I ran out of gas: 1
Cute animals that nearly became roadkill: 4 (woodchuck, opossum, deer and white cat in Lawton, Iowa)
Animals caught re-enacting their own "Why did he cross the road?" jokes: 2 (woodchuck at attention and opossum in headlights, both on Rt. 20)
Times my mom was called "sweetie" at the truck stop diner Iron Skillet in Perrysburg, Ohio: 7
Amish buggies seen being driven on the road in Shipsewana, Ind.: 1
Amish buggies seen parked for the Mennonite services: 40

Insects on Kamikaze missions into our windshield: thousands
Gallons of windshield-wiper fluid used to clean said insects: 10
Hotels passed because parking was not suitable for my mom: dozens
Motel parking lots we pulled out of because it looked like the set of "1408": 1
Ratio of Iowa's corn stalks to world population: 1,000,00o to 1
Flavors of popcorn at Great American Popcorn Company in Galena, Ill.: over 80


Amount of fun my mom and I are having: Endless!

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Good Night, Sweetheart, Well It's Time to Go...

Day 6 of the T-90 Project:

The swim team manager at the New York Athletic Club came to my happy hour and was kind enough to offer me four tickets to an upcoming Yankees game. I nearly died. I'd been harassing everyone about getting to a Yankees game before I left and it finally happened. And I got to take three friends.

NovaCat, Fashionista and FunnyGirl all met me at Kennedy's for some pre-stadium drinks. The bartender was a little too generous with the pours, and after three rounds of drinks, he offered us each a free cocktail. It was nearly 7:30 but none of us felt the need to skip out on his offer.

We showed up at the stadium a little on the late side, but I decided I'd rather get there late and stay till the end then show up early and fade away before the seventh inning stretch. It was one of the finest nights I've ever had at Yankees Stadium, not because Fashionista downed two cheesesteaks on her own, but because we all just had the best time. I texted my cousin who works the cameras for the YES Network and when he asked me what section I was in and to stand up we landed on the Jumbotron a few seconds later. It was a stunning end to my days in New York and we're all kicking ourselves for not having been fast enough to snap any photo of our Jumbotron appearance.

Day 5:

My coworker had a going away party for me at his apartment. The view was absolutely ridiculous and it was above and beyond generous for him to host me and the rest of our office. I will never forget him or that night or the hilariously appropriate napkins he bought for the party:

Day 4:

It was a day I thought would never come -- my last day of work. I cried during my going away speech (it's tradition to have cake for the person leaving and for them to give a "speech" during the festivities). I was beyond control and just let it rip. I knew I was doomed when I said goodbye to my best bud Keith in the cafeteria and I just cried uncontrollably. I think someone was filming my horrible speech, and even though I asked nicely for him to stop, I don't know that he did. I just hope the video won't be posted to YouTube any time soon.

Here's the cake my incredibly generous boss bought me:

Day 3:

My friend Ozzie visited this past weekend from Indiana. I knew we were headed somewhere for drinks and dinner and I laughed when he told me to meet him and his friends at Buddakan. I find it odd and amusing that I go to Buddakan with out-of-town visitors only. Do New Yorkers actually eat here? Ozzie had some really exciting news to share, but the only problem was he didn't have a voice. I met and bonded with two of his close girlfriends from his days of living in Australia. After dinner, our server brought us the most incredible dessert. He overheard us talking about my imminent departure from New York and he took it upon himself to gin up this adorable sorbet concoction. I thanked him profusely and offered him my blog card, with hopes he'd come to this page and see how grateful I was:


After dinner we rallied some friends to check out SPiN, the new ping-pong bar. It was hilarious and well worth checking out.

Days 2 through Days -4: I stayed in New York (or its surrounding area) a little longer than expected so T-90 really ended up being about T-95. I'm home writing from my couch, really sleepy coming off of a great though emotional dinner with my parents -- one of our last until we meet again in Jackson Hole next weekend. Dad and T- fly out to meet my mom and me on the cross-country journey and I can't wait.

My last week in New York I made three trips from my apartment to Conn. moving myself out -- and I still have a bed and guitar I can't sell on Craig's List; I had dinner with my roommates at Vareli and it blew us all away with its great wines and delicious tapas; I had drinks with a former flame/co-worker and I really enjoyed our time spent over beer and no work party drowning us out; I had a last dinner with my best girlfriends at The Spotted Pig which then turned into drinks at Dublin 6 and drinks and dancing at Automatic Slims (Slims was where I had one of my first major birthdays in the city so it was only appropriate that I return there for one last hurrah); I cried reading cards and emails from friends wishing me well and saying goodbye, for now; I was overcome with sadness at the thought of leaving my dad on the east coast; I finally made it to the Frick where I enjoyed Henry Clay's collection of Rembrandts, Vermeers and Holbeins; I cried when I received this text from MissHockey, "Tomorrow is a sad day for NYC."

It's a sad day for me, too.

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The Final Week

Day 13 of the T-90 Project:

I was supposed to meet a couple of friends for wine at Riposo 72 but my favorite wine bar on the upper west side was closed for a private party. So much for getting my fix before I left! Instead we moseyed down to Bin 71. I am not a fan of the place at all, and especially not after the night we had. It's cramped and always a zoo so forget about personal space. To make it even sweeter, we had a major D-bag sitting next to us who kept trying to contribute to the conversation and it was driving me nuts.

D-bag barely let us sit in the two seats next to him because he had a blind date... in an HOUR. That was the first offense. He then gets up, leaves his stool, pays, disappears for what we thought was good for about 30 minutes, someone takes his seat, he comes back, shows the guy in his seat the sip of beer he has left (lucky it's still even there) and kicks the guy out of his seat. I was mortified. The poor scrawny Brit vacated the seat reluctantly then we had to sit next to D-bag. Again.

His date finally showed up and I wanted to tell her to run for the hills. Their "date" lasted about 30 to 40 minutes. Once again we thought we were rid of him for good. But oh no. He pretended to leave the bar with his plastic bags of god-knows-what with the girl, only to come back and repossess his seat with a jovial, "Well that was a disaster!" The only disaster I could see within a 5-mile radius was him. And more amusing than how terrible he was was the fact that he thought we were all buddies and on his side. Piece of work.

Day 12:

It was only fitting that I had one more blow out party at the New York Athletic Club before I left. FunnyGirl rallied the swim team for happy hour and we drank and partied until it was black out hour at the Tap Room. I will miss everything about the club: the staff, Luis the bartender, Hasan the gym-keeper, Laticia and Jackie the locker room attendants, my 70+-year-old badminton-playing boyfriends (to whom I've promised multiple postcards from Los Angeles), Daniel and Paul at the front door screaming, "There she is!" and last but not least my teammates and the Irishmen who run the pool with as much pride as the president runs the U.S.

Day 11:

TriGal came to town for my going away bash and I was so hungover from the day mentioned above that I embarrassingly only met her, her boyfriend and her sisters for a couple of beers. They were headed to dinner down at Mercer and I couldn't think of anything but home and bed. I had a big day the next day that she (and a few special others) came to town for.

Day 10:

I met BYOWino and Fashionista for some breakfast cocktails before we headed to Radegast beer garden in Brooklyn for my going away party. Besides getting yelled at by some annoying soccer fans who were complaining about us standing up and blocking their view (though great, Radegast is not a sports bar, and if they want to be they need more televisions than just one), we had a great time. I forgot about the World Cup when I planned the party about a month ago and when people started asking me about whether Radegast had TVs, their web site said yes, so I was hopeful. They had one big screen and from the tables outside people were straining to see through window arches, but all in all we had a great time.

The second stop after Radegast was The Magician. It is a mystery to me why whenever we go there is nobody else inside. When we approached the doors and saw it empty with the lights out I assumed it was closed. I looked in and asked "Are you open?" to a woman doing bar prep and she said, "Yes!" It ended up being awesome. We had the whole bar to ourselves and drank the goodbyes away. There were a few great surprise showings that night and the next morning I just couldn't believe how fortunate I am to have such great friends.

We ended the night at Sing-Sing where LittleMissSunshine camped out on top of the table with a microphone. JerseyBoy joined the festivities (I hope he's having fun at the World Cup right now -- though I know he's missed by Fashionista at home) and somehow the poor guy got stuck with a very severe tab. Let this be a warning, Sing-Sing's great but it'll cost ya'.

Day 7:

I met Winette for our final final pow-wow. We went to Tia Pol and Bottino (not to be confused with Gottino). It was an incredible evening. We broke our record and actually made it to two wine bars and ate at each. One of the best parts of the night was running into an old friend in town from New Haven waiting for his blind date to show up. I looked at him and couldn't tell through the beard if it was actually him, and after staring for a good 10 seconds I finally said, "Deej?"

We caught up and he was psyched to hear about the move and Winette and I were both psyched to hear about (and meet) the blind date.

Tia Pol was excellent. We ordered the breads and the spreads. The bread (from Tom Cat bakery) was some of the best bread I've ever had in the city and it had this cold, soft tomato puree on top that was incredible. It barely needed the additional olive and chickpea spreads.


We also tried the chef's special that night which was green peppers dusted with sea salt. We ate them like candy.

I thought I'd seen the best of the best outside spaces in New York until Winette took me to Bottino. I was blown away by its beautiful, spacious garden seating. I felt like I was on the set of "Pollyana" and hardly in Manhattan. Our entree pastas -- the ravioli verdi and the penne -- were fabulous and I'm only sad for one reason -- I didn't discover it sooner.

I will desperately wish my lush and gush sessions with Winette... They will never be replaced.

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5 and Diamond

Day 14 of the T-90 Project:

We celebrated my final Fat Tuesday Dinner Club appearance this month, and as a sort of tribute to moi, TheDude picked a spot up in Canada by my apartment. I cannot stress this enough -- if you live on the upper west side (or anywhere above 59th Street) and are looking for a hidden gem, go to 5 and Diamond. I adored it, as did everyone in my dinner club. My girl Gael loved it too.

It was a sad day thinking about my final dinner club with these three wonderful friends I've made. So much has changed since we started the group over two years ago. TheDude was getting married Friday. Fashionista had pretty much just finished moving in with her boyfriend JerseyBoy. I'm moving to Los Angeles to be with MaineMan. LoveLight, one of the original members, is now engaged. And TheRookie, not so much the rookie after his varsity performance on Fashionista's birthday bus, is still plugging away at screenplays and girls.

We were the poster kids for single-ready-to-mingle professionals in Manhattan. TheDude would have about three dates lined up in a week with women of all varying ethnicities and ages; Fashionista and I would take turns meeting hot randoms at bars and figure out a few weeks after hanging out with them (if they in fact did call as promised) that they were lame; while LoveLight was just moving to New York from San Diego -- he was the young whippersnapper whose first restaurant pick for dinner club was Ninja.

I am thrilled to announce the next in line to replace me at FTDC. Hopefully this will make Page Six and all chefs and maitre-d's will know her by name. LittleMissSunshine will take a seat with the others in July and I don't doubt that she will be a great addition to the crew. In the meantime, I'm brainstorming who might make a fun dinner club in Los Angeles, though it will and could never be the same.

Fashionista and I stumbled into each other on the street a half hour before dinner. We were planning on meeting for a cocktail beforehand but she wandered off in search of coffee when I wasn't by the subway station as promised. We proceeded to walk east on 110th Street only to realize about 10 minutes in that we were walking in the opposite direction. Good ol' Google maps. Leave it to the local to have no idea where Frederick Douglas Boulevard was.

When we finally found it -- no thanks to my sense of direction -- we cozied up next to the bartender and watched him whip up his artsy concoctions, a la Smith and Mills or Tailor. Our initial reaction was, "How cute is this place?" The cocktail list rivals both downtown hot spots. They had these spicy homemade potato chips at the bar and Fashionista and I were in love with them. I didn't want to be seated at our table because I didn't want them to go uneaten.

We mulled wine or cocktails, cocktails or wine and the consensus was cocktails. It seems to be the club's new favorite thing to do. Forget the vino, we have more fun on the hard stuff!

The first thing we knew we had to get was the mac and cheese. A girl was eating it at the bar and it looked delicious. It came smothered in cheese and breadcrumbs. I don't know what my problem is but mac and cheeses I've had of late are just not cheesy enough for me. Same goes for the dish here. It looked incredible, but it didn't pack that much punch as far as the cheese goes.

TheDude, in standard fashion, ordered the pork loin. This was the juiciest, best thing on the table (the carnivores concurred). It came with cavatelli underneath and I had fun describing to TheDude what they exactly were and how to pronounce it as an Italian would: gah-bah-DEEL.

I am obsessed with striped bass (and cod) these days so I went with 5 and Diamond's bass entree. Look at the beautiful skin -- it looks like a mesh net. The tender fish was served over a bed of edamame and red quinoa. I licked my plate.

We were totally stuffed, but it seemed only right to finish my run of dinner club with a round of dessert for the table. TheDude ordered these fried balls of goodness which were a sort of cross between a bomboloni (minus the cream-filled center) and a beignet. They came with a custard-like dipping sauce on the side and we scooped them up in a flash. They were soft and warm inside with a slight crisp to the edges (I think I just described myself).


I walked home that night with a smiley face on one shoulder and a pouty pace on the other. I was sad to say goodbye, but I'm happy for the bright futures we have ahead of us. I spent the last two years of my life looking forward to our monthly rendez-vous, picking the spots, drinking to stories and laughter and trying to one-up each other with the most outrageous dating stories. TheRookie, your story from Kuma Inn (your first FTDC), paired with TheDude's engagement announcement at Sfoglia, definitely take the cake. If the tales we shared don't make for a great screenplay someday, I don't know what will.

TheDude once told me over a drunken tete-a-tete at the New York Athletic Club that the man for me was probably not in New York. I didn't know what to make of this observation, but I decided it was a compliment. I was never going to be a lifer in New York City and I'm not sure if I could have dated someone who did see 10023 as his permanent zip code. As luck would have it, TheDude was 100 percent correct and here I am off to Los Angeles to be with the man of my dreams. Funny how life works out that way.

2072 Frederick Douglass Blvd. near 112th St.
646-684-4662

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21 Club

Day 15 of the T-90 Project:

MissHockey and I scheduled, canceled and rescheduled dinner at 21 Club a few times before it actually happened. Thank goodness it did because I leave New York City as one of its biggest fans.

In my first days as a New Yorker, I noticed the jockey statues and wrought-iron gates that welcome patrons into the den. When I asked my dad, "Have you heard of this 21 Club place?" he laughed and said, "Of course." Apparently he'd eaten there a few times. I knew they had a dress code for dudes, but not so much the ladies. I was a little intimidated to eat there, fearing the kind of vibe I loathed at Sparks, though I was determined to try it at least once. When MissHockey mentioned they had a $35 pre-theater dinner I was all about it. I generally stay away from prix fixes, especially those of Restaurant Week, because I feel the eater gets jipped, but such was not the case at "21."

I ordered some oysters to start, then had the Provencal vegetable terrine with goat cheese, red bell peppers, zucchini and eggplant in a bell pepper emulsion. It was very tasty. I followed that with the horseradish-crusted salmon while MissHockey tried the risotto. Both dishes were superb - I don't even like risotto generally but this was chunky and fantastic. It was all scrumptious until dessert - my peach tart was disappointing. All in all though it was a fabulous meal matched with excellent service.

Once I told our waiter I was moving to Los Angeles and this was one of my last dinners in New York he took us under his wing and practically escorted us from our table to a cab outside. Though I won't be able to contribute anything as fun as John McEnroe's smashed tennis racket to the ceiling of dangling trinkets and mementos, I do hope to return with my family and/or MissHockey someday. What a perfect T-90 night!

Click here for the rich and amusing history of what we now know as the 21 Club.

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Tea Cups and Biker Bars

Day 20 of the T-90 Project:

MaineMan flew out on Wednesday, June 2, but not without one last meal. His parents came into the city to take us out to lunch at P.J. Clarke's on the west side. They'd frequented the original P.J. Clarke's decades ago when they lived in the city so it was a walk down memory lane for them, I hope. They'd wanted to go to the one on 3rd Avenue, but when they found out I couldn't take that much time off work they were sweet enough to relocate lunch to the west side by my offices. I never had a lunch hour working in news. On the rare occasion where I did sneak out to grab a bite I'd always look at my watch like a lunatic -- paranoid that my coworkers would wonder where the hell I was, when in fact I'd get back from lunch and nobody had missed me.

Lunch at P.J. Clarke's was great, though it took so long I had to walk out with my lunch half-eaten in Tupperware. I ordered a Caesar salad and tater tots and the tater tots were to die for. I'd never seen them on the menu before. Mr. MaineMan ordered us a huge plate of oysters that we sucked down in a flash. When I got back to the office and opened my container of tots my coworkers descended on me like vultures, "What are THOSE?"

After work I met up with MaineMan outside my office. It was a treat to see him waiting for me at the front door. He only had a couple of hours until his flight and he demanded a few beers before takeoff. We wandered over to The Sunburnt Calf (related to The Sunburnt Cow in the east village) because I'd wanted to check it out. It was pretty blah, minus the Aussie bartender. We were the only ones there at three o'clock and I was not feeling it. It had a long bar, it was pitch black, boiling and it just wasn't a cozy, welcoming space. The bar had a weird orange and black color scheme going on and I could not wait to down our drinks and leave.

Our next stop was the Ding Dong Lounge. After five years of living across the street I'd probably been about five times. MaineMan was appalled. How could I not have been frequenting this place? We often miss what's right under our nose, I guess.

After a couple of beers, it was that time again. Time for me to say goodbye to MaineMan, although it didn't really feel like goodbye. I was flying out to L.A. in a couple of days for a job interview. Whew! No tears.

Day 19:

I organized a dinner at Kefi with a few of my closest work friends. I don't think we spend enough time letting off steam after hours so I was hoping to squeeze in one last session before I left. We were welcoming some newbies to the neighborhood from Boston and I was excited to share Kefi with them. I think they were pleased. My coworker and I both got the bulgur fritter sandwich, which, to this day, remains one of my favorite sandwiches in New York City. The sheeps' milk dumplings are a crowd pleaser as well.

Day 18:

My friend and mentor at work @CPLawJ loves sweets and tea almost more than I do. We discovered our mutual affection for tea several months ago and we'd take occasional breaks in search of it near our office. One such trip to Alice's Tea Cup had a sad ending - the place was a zoo and there was no way we would be able to wait for a table, eat and get back to our office in an hour. We made it our mission to get back someday.

That day came in my last two weeks at ABC. We returned with our fingers crossed that we would get a table. When the hostess said, "Right this way!" I nearly jumped for joy.

The tea menu is overwhelming. They have pages and pages of different teas and unless you narrow it down to a color (they have every color of the rainbow listed), you're going to have a tough time. I went with the Energitea -- a green tea with rooibos, ginseng, linden and orange. It was superb. The presentation is the highlight. Each tea drinker gets his own individual tea pot.

@CPLawJ noted, "They really have this thing figured out down to a science."

"Yes they do. Look at the little foam to catch the drip. And the kitties on top!"



@CPLawJ ordered a curried chicken sandwich that he really enjoyed and I ordered the croque madame. Their veggie version had grilled gruyere with mayo and mustard on semolina bread. Grilled cheeses in restaurants are very hit or miss and this was a definite hit. I can't believe I'm only just discovering this sandwich. The late discoveries seem to be a recurrent theme of the T-90 Project...

Days 17-16 (in Calif.):

On my last trip to Los Angeles before I move I discovered a new favorite hangout, or rather, MaineMan did. Much to my chagrin, he has gotten a little motorcycle crazy this past month and he looked up biker bars in the area. On a drive back from The Beachcomber at Malibu Pier, where we discovered this bad boy:


we stopped at The Rock Store. I absolutely (shockingly?) loved it and I cannot wait to get back. I can't promise MaineMan that it will be on the back of his motorcycle (if and when he finds one he likes), but I can promise that I hope to return very soon to this great spot along Mulholland. It had a terrific vibe and the staff was super friendly -- something I never expected at a biker bar.

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Manhattan by Sail

I am officially moved out of my apartment and am enjoying day two of freedom from work or any responsibility (and day four of no BlackBerry). It's a glorious feeling! I drive cross country on Saturday with my mom so stay tuned for me to bring you up to date with the final days of the T-90 Project and for the beginning of our journey from Connecticut to Los Angeles via the Oregon Trail. If you have any tips or recommendations for stops along the way (Conn. - Penn. - Ohio - Ind. - Ill. - Wis. - Minn. - S. Dak. - Wyo. - Mont. - Idaho - Nev. - Calif.), let me know!


Day 26 of the T-90 Project:

I hadn't seen my friend CloseEncounters in months and we'd been discussing trying to grab drinks before his wedding. Our schedules were just off and it never seemed like it was going to happen. Finally one night I received a text from him, "M- can you grab a beer tonight?" I was under the covers in pajamas at that point, but I suggested we get drinks later that week. He was a week and a half away from his big day and I knew if we waited until after it would never happen.

I met him and his fiance at Tap a Keg on the upper west and we had a great night of reminiscing about our old Fox News days and waxing poetic about the future. We were both equally happy for each other and the adventures we were about to embark on. I showed him a photo of MaineMan and I believe the reaction was "ruggedly handsome." I like to think so. CloseEncounters has two very good friends out in L.A., both former co-workers of ours, so I believe he will be out to visit. I look forward to that and keeping in touch with him and his adorable new wife.

Day 25:

I didn't do anything remarkable on this day except begin to pack and help a single friend with her Nerve profile. If you're skeptical of online dating, read this adorable story written by my roommate LarchmontLass' boyfriend (a former dating blogger for Glamour) and it'll change your perspective forever. Forget those e-Harmony and Match commercials, this should be on the cover of Nerve.com.

Days 24-23 (5/29-30):

MaineMan arrived for his last east coast tour before I join him in California and I spent those couple of days in Greenwich.

The view from MaineMan's boat:


Day 22:

MaineMan came into the city after I finished work on Memorial Day. He had a few stragglers to meet (i.e. there were a few stamps of approval I was waiting on) and we joined NovaCat and her man at The Frying Pan before meeting up with Winette and FoxyLady at Blaue Gans. I am sort of over The Frying Pan. The secret's out and the crowd seems to keep getting worse and worse. This recent sentiment aside, it still is a pretty remarkable place to take someone from out of town. Manhattan may not have fields of green and much landscape to speak of, but it's pretty hard to beat a barge-turned-bar in the Hudson. And as for Blaue Gans, it's my favorite German sausage joint in the city and I felt a return was necessary before I left. It's also the perfect spot to take any beer-guzzling/meat and potatoes man (or woman).

Day 21:

An old friend at Fox told me sailing with Shearwater (now Manhattan by Sail) was the best thing she'd ever done in the city. She wasn't exactly the happiest, most cheerful character so from her this was saying a lot.

I'd been dying to book my ticket, but I didn't really have anyone special to go with, and it seemed like the sort of thing you'd want to enjoy in the company of a boyfriend or girlfriend. Enter MaineMan, a sailor and former sail manufacturer.

I made it a surprise. He knew we had something planned for Tuesday and it wasn't until we were down in the North Cove Marina that he realized, "We're going on a boat!"

The signage is terrible for Manhattan by Sail. We barely found the boat, then when we did one of the crew waved us off rudely in "I'm not ready for you yet" fashion. Yet the website said to be there a half hour early. It appeared we weren't the only ones antsy to get on the boat. A pair of elderly women removed the safety rope from the dock ramp and this sent the small Argentinian into a frenzy.


We were finally welcomed onto the boat and I met our uber-friendly Captain Matt. Thank goodness it wasn't the other guy who we'd apparently pissed off (though by the end he was very friendly - just took some warming up to).

It was less a sail around Manhattan and more a sail in the water just south of Manhattan. We spent a lot of time by the Statue of Liberty -- which was awesome. Capt. Matt had two men helping him and the youngest was the most outspoken and friendly. You can buy beer or wine on board (the first one's on them) for a mere $5 or $6 and MaineMan and I enjoyed a couple of Coronas. Besides me and MaineMan, there were only four other people who signed up to sail that day. We had the whole vessel to ourselves and could walk around at our leisure.

I asked MaineMan about every action they were taking to change our course and it was pretty awesome having a private tutorial on the ins and outs of sailing.

Me: What's a bow?
Him: Wow. We have a long way to go...

If athletes turn you on, try having a sailor talk sailing. I look forward to spending more time with him on the ocean.




After our afternoon sail, we headed to Bubby's for some spicy bloody Marys and strawberry-rhubarb pie. We tried the quesadillas as a "snack" and they were the best gosh darn quesadillas I'd ever had. We discussed going to Walker's, but it had gotten too late and we were due in Connecticut for a parents meet the parents dinner in Greenwich. Lots to do!

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Dinner and a Wine Crawl

Day 29 of the T-90 Project:

I met my friend Weatherman for a last supper at Cafe Blossom. It takes us about a year to schedule dinners so I knew the likelihood of me seeing him again before I moved was slim. It's a travesty because we always have so much fun whenever we do meet up. I'd been to Blossom once before with Winette and FoxyLady and I'd really enjoyed it. When he mentioned healthy and veg, I said sure! When he mentioned detox, I said no way!

He'd been celebrating his birthweek like I often do and he was toasted. I drank the vino for the table and we both tried some tasty vegan fare. I still don't think I can tell the difference between tempeh and saitan, but both were delicious that night.

The best part of the evening was our server. Weatherman was voicing his skepticism about vegan food openly to our waiter and his response was quite amusing. He reminded me of Todd Louiso's character Dick in "High Fidelity." Dick the music snob meet our waiter the vegan snob. He came to our table with our check and a list of literature for Weatherman to read including the following:

"The Food Revolution," by John Robbins
"The China Study," by T. Colin Campbell
"Meat Is for Pussies," by John Joseph

Weatherman handed me the sheet of paper when the young man left and I had myself a new summer reading list.

Day 27:

Winette and I had a plan to hit up Terroir and Gottino in one night for a wine bar crawl. This didn't work out so well. I walked into Terroir in Tribeca, fell in love and I knew we'd be there the rest of the night.

The winetender was super friendly and helpful and had something for each of our fancies. The highlight of the evening, besides the company, was absolutely the beautiful canoli and my dessert wine.

I've never been to the one in the East Village, but this one was huge and according to Winette, much bigger and better than the original.

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Saturday Fun Day

Day 31 of the T-90 Project:

Going to see a comedy show was on my list of things to do before I left and I got to see two: one professional and one amateur (three if you count the late night karaoke disaster that was Sing Sing this past Saturday). It doesn't get any better than that!

My friend BYOWino was taking a course at the Upright Citizen's Brigade in Chelsea and his class had a performance a few Saturdays ago. As my friends often like to do, we turned this into an excuse to day drink. Fashionista rallied a crew to meet at her apartment for some beverages at 11 a.m., but I decided I wanted a morning to myself so I could run and do some laundry before the show. Fashionista, LittleMissSunshine and JerseyBoy had some roadies for me when I got there which I was very grateful for.

The class was split into two groups. Each performed for about 30 minutes. BYOWino was in the second (and what I think was the stronger group) of the two. I was thoroughly impressed at his bravery and willingness to participate in the daunting task of improvising skits in front of a live audience. I don't think I could ever do it. Congrats, BYOWino, on a great performance! You rocked it!

After the comedy show we went to The Frying Pan where we drank for a few hours and then met up with our friend RugbyRat. He was taking us to Todd English's new brunch spot Juliet Supperclub.

I knew nothing of the place apart from it was just opening, one of RugbyRat's friends was a promoter and he'd been invited to come. We walked in and I was horrified. We were not on any list to speak of, "UHNTZ UHNTZ UHNTZ!" was blaring and the circular tables along the sparkly mosaic wall were filled with eager, scantily clad club-goers. It wasn't even four o'clock. RugbyRat's friend was nowhere to be found so we walked all the way inside to the back with eyes following us like hawks follow their prey.

A tall brunette lingering at the bar was decked out in pasty white makeup and some lacy, bejeweled get up. She looked like a cross between Courtney Love and Betty Boop. At first I thought she was a transvestite who had lost her way. Then the music started and she began to bat her angel-like wings of feathers over and across her body like they do at Le Moulin Rouge or in Vegas.

"Where the hell are we?!" Nobody said a word as we just sat and stared in disbelief and awkward amazement.

"I think they're trying to be The Box," said Fashionista.

Yup.

We were eventually seated, but not before Courtney Boop and her big eyes stripped down to nothing but fringe hanging from her nipples and she twirled her boobs so the fringe flew in a circular motion.

"Get me out of here!"

Poor RugbyRat was mortified and we finally ended up sitting down. We couldn't wait to eat and get the heck out of this place. We were definitely too old for the daytime club scene. I guess English was trying to bring back the Merkato 55 theme of clubbing during the daytime and over brunch. Bagatelle does this too, but after this experience, I had no desire to try it.

I ordered a vegetarian Benedict, BYOWino ordered waffles and Fashionista split the burger with LittleMissSunshine. I had a weak moment after hearing Fashionista, "This is one of the best burgers I've ever had in the city. Mona, you have to take a bite. Do you want a small bite? Just do it."

I thought about my not eating meat for half a second before I gobbled up a good mouthful of the burger. Wow. It was one of the juiciest, richest chunks of burger I had ever tasted. She may be right.

After brunch, Fashionista and I had about an hour to kill before we had to head to Brooklyn for our cooking class at Brooklyn Fare. TheDude had mentioned this to us over Fat Tuesday Dinner Club many months ago and Fashionista invited me to go along with her.

I knew the day was going to be a marathon and looking back I'm not sure how I made it through. After Brooklyn we had to come back to the city for a friend's engagement party. What in the --?

The cooking class was less a cooking class, more an observe and eat class. Fashionista and I were surrounded by a dozen or so people who you'd drown out with earphones if you got stuck next to them on a plane. They were networking and chatting and asking questions constantly. We, however, after a day of partying and being in the sun, wanted less socializing and more food. Our chef, Cesar Ramirez, did not disappoint. He wasn't that chatty either. He prepared our 15-course meal (each course had one bite on it per plate) in a quietly focused manner and I loved it.

It's BYOB and I highly recommend bringing a couple bottles of wine. They serve mostly fish, though there were a couple of meat dishes which I handed to Fashionista. My biggest complaint was there were about four bottles of olive oil on the shelf and I was dying to dip the bread into a plate of it but Ramirez' partner refused to grant me my olive oil dip. Odd.

After dinner, Senor Ramirez walked us to the door and thanked us for being such enthusiastic patrons. Fashionista and I laughed and expressed our gratitude to him. Fashionista mentioned TheDude, our dinner club and Ramirez claimed my blog sounded familiar. What a small world.

After Brooklyn we headed to Back Fence -- my favorite sing-along bar in Manhattan. We played some air guitar, sang some Bruce and I finally called it a night on this jam-packed day. I think I covered about five days of T-90 in one and I was zonked.

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Cathedrals and Pinstripes

Day 32 of the T-90 Project:

MissHockey invited me to the subway series game a couple of Fridays ago (3/21). I'd never been to a Mets vs. Yankees game so this was an important first on the U-Haul list. We grabbed a few beers next to Grand Central with NovaCat before we headed to the game. It's always key to drink prior to the stadium or else you'll go home broke.

On my walk from work to the station I popped my head into St. Patrick's to say a goodbye prayer to all my friends and family who I'll be leaving behind on the east coast. I was raised Catholic, though I'm not practicing, and since St. Patrick's is a special place to my parents, I felt the need to pay it one last visit. They rarely come into the city on the weekends without stopping at mass before leaving.

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Backtracking ...

Day 34 of the T-90 Project

I ate at Choptank a few months ago shortly after it opened. Fashionista picked it because it was billed as a Chesapeake Bay-themed seafood restaurant. The Maryland native loves herself some crabs! Dinner was fun company-wise, but so-so food-wise. As soon as I'd written my rather harsh review, I received an e-mail from a friend I'd met once over dinner, apologizing for my bad experience at Choptank and hoping I'd return since her cousin is one of the owners.

AWKWARD!

I immediately read and re-read my review and felt horrible. My friends and companions from the evening assured me it wasn't too over the top and I was fair - mentioning some pros - though mostly cons. The owner even left me a comment on the post and he was so gracious and appreciative I couldn't believe it. How did I get so lucky? I've read some nightmare stories of the chef/owner vs. the bad reviewer and they usually do not end well (read Dirt Candy's response to a tough review in the Times written by Oliver Schwaner-Albright last year).

It was because of Josh Morgan's response that I was lured back to Choptank and I put it on my list of must dos before I moved west.

Fashionista celebrated her 30th birthday that Tuesday and we dined at Choptank on Wednesday. We had a wonderful feast. Our server took excellent care of us and it felt like we were in a different restaurant. I kept up my winning streak with choosing the biggest cocktails (Fashionista pointed out I somehow always luck out with the beverage buckets) and the crab dip came full circle from our first time - it was thick and warm and chunky. Not to mention the homemade potato chips dusted in an Old Bay-type seasoning would please any Cape Cod chip aficionado.

Other highlights included the steamers, the fish sticks, the ham and biscuit plate, the jumbo lump crab cake and the fried chicken.



Lion asked, "Was it really that different?" He didn't want me to feel guilted into changing my opinion just because his friend and co-worker saw my first review.

"Yes. The food and service were remarkably - 200 percent - better!"

"OK, then!" He said.

We all left full, happy and glowing from the great dinner. I felt a little bit like Ruth Reichl must have after her return to Le Cirque as herself and not some wild, ditzy tourist in costume. They definitely rolled out the red carpet for us, though it was clear to me it wasn't just for show. I watched Josh throughout the evening and he was a fixture in the dining room, checking on not only us, but all of the tables. He's a genuinely nice guy who cares and I hope his place thrives.

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