Hudson Hotel

When I think of the Hudson Hotel I think hot. Hot people. Hot workers. Hot music. Hot rooms. Hot drinks. Hot clothes. H-O-T hot. When somebody springs going to the Hudson Hotel for impromptu drinks or dinner, I shy away if I'm not feeling hot enough. Even its Web site crowns the midtown chic spot as "utterly cool." I'm a confident chick, but some days I roll in rusty Rainbows and a wifebeater, hardly what you'd be caught dead in at the Hudson --the Montauk Surf Lodge to see Sam Talbot, maybe-- but not the Hudson. If I'm going to the Hudson Hotel, I need fair warning so I can up my hot factor.

The hotel was designed by Ian Schrager's partner in crime Phillip Starck. It's the perfect Miami-Manhattan hybrid. Some rooms shout Manhattan and some rooms shout Miami and I can picture it in either city. My first exposure to its coolness was back in 2001 when The New Yorker had its Special Music Issue party at the hotel. My co-worker and friend at the time planned the party and I helped in any capacity I could. Just being associated with an event at the Hudson Hotel upped my cool factor as a newbie to Manhattan. I looked upon it with awe then and I look upon it with awe now.

At the end of March, MastersMaven, a friend and teammate from NYAC, was off to Perth to compete in swimming's world masters championships and I planned a good luck dinner for her. As the day approached, the numbers slowly dwindled until it was only the two of us that could meet up, though selfishly, this made it more fun.

MastersMaven had a friend who was DJ-ing at the Hudson Bar and we popped in for a few fancy cocktails. I was milling about, struggling to find a table without "Reserved" on it until MastersMaven just plopped herself down at one of them without even a flinch. I guess that's how you get it done! It was a Tuesday night, but by the crowd and the dancing you'd think it had been a Saturday. There was one pro tearing up the neon floor and MastersMaven and I were amused by the countless women who tried to measure up but failed. After our two drinks each, we waited patiently as our flightbag server scrounged to come up with my credit card and our tab. First nights are rough. Next stop? Hudson Cafeteria.

I had peeked into the Cafeteria several times before but never sat down for a meal. It was surprisingly not very crowded and we scored one of the high tables around the kitchen. We ordered a glass of wine and not a minute later decided on dinner: split burger and split mac and cheese.

I sat there staring at both plates in wonder for about three minutes. I had no idea the Hudson, near my central midtown universe (close to work and gym), had such a perfect made-for-Mona meal. Hudson, where have you been all my life? The burger was enormous and we were both happy with our decision to split it. It was everything a burger should be: juicy, the right medium-rare temperature, smothered in cheese and toppings, and sandwiched by a toasted buttery bun. The fries were decent, if you like steak fries. I mean, I ate them, after all a fried potato is a fried potato, though I prefer normal fries.

And just look at this macaroni and cheese. I barely wanted to rile its perfection. The crusty and crispy topping was so thick it trickled down to the middle of the generous helping of macaroni. I couldn't shovel it in fast enough. I know MastersMaven needed her carbs for her swim meet, but I had a very hard time sharing with her.

So now I know. The Hudson isn't just about fancy fare. It's about comfort too. Hot or not, I will be sneaking into the Hudson Cafeteria to score another forkful of this macaroni and another big burger bite. I just need to find someone who will go halfsies with me. You in?

Hudson Cafeteria
356 W. 58th St., between 8th & 9th Ave.
212-554-6500