Out with the Old

New Yorkers love their markets, their antiques - and, of course, their antique markets.  This one spills out onto the sidewalk, even when it's covered with snow.


Lower East Side.  On Canon Powershot.

Shake It Up

What happens when Sarni and I are too lazy to cook, and for some reason, the Belgian fusion restaurant is just not good enough for Sarni.  New York, thank you for gourmet burger shacks (also dollar pizza stands, those are fun too).


Madison Square Park.  On Canon Powershot.

Kaleidoscope Project On Location: The Other Coast

Strangely (or perhaps fittingly, given the cold weather in the Bay Area), we spent some time enjoying a sport I usually associate more with the Great White North.  (Or even New York.)

LB treated Sarni and me to a hockey game, the San Jose Sharks vs the Colorado Avalanche.  It was a lot of fun!  The Sharks won, and one of their players even scored a hat trick (prompting the crowd to hurl their hats at the ice).  Despite my notorious inability to understand any athletic rules, I showed my true Canadian grit by shouting in outrage at a particularly egregious case of high sticking.

Is it just me, or does the shark in the Sharks logo kind of look like Shamu?

Sarni clutches the trading cards he accidentally procured, thinking they were rugby tickets.  Beer and trading cards.  Doesn't get much more manly than this.

A visit to the West Coast wouldn't be complete without trying some of their cupcake action.  The verdict?  The cupcakes themselves were pretty good, but those little button decorations on top tasted like cardboard.  We're still not sure if maybe they were cardboard.

You guys, I was almost too lazy to look up the correct info for you, but then I was like, I don't want to disseminate false cupcake info on my blog!  So here it is - Sprinkles Cupcakes were started by two former investment bankers who made a ginormous career switch after pooh-poohing NYC's own cupcake juggernaut, Magnolia Bakery.  The first Sprinkles bakery is considered to be the world's first cupcake-only bakery.  Seriously, doesn't anyone else want to see a reality show showdown between the Cupcake Coasts?  Sprinkles versus Magnolia, no holds barred.  Winner takes (crumbs and) all.

Just before we left California, the sun decided to peek out.  I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or irritated, so I settled for grirritated.

Back at JFK, a sign appeared that I have never noticed before, right when I was beginning to miss the Golden State.  I was pleased, until a blast of freezing cold air hit me in the face.  But eh, you take the good with the bad, right?  Welcome to New York, indeed.


Bay Area.  On Canon Powershot.

Kaleidoscope Project On Location: The Other Coast

Sarni and I took an impromptu trip to the Bay Area in order to enjoy some skiing at Lake Tahoe.  Or so we planned.  Our adventures were foiled by various external circumstances that stranded Sarni and myself in the situation depicted above.  If it's not clear, that's Nola, one of my favorite restaurants in Palo Alto from back in the day.  Outside the window, you might be able to see the torrential downpour that welcomed us to the Bay Area.  On the screen is a DVD of some incredible skiing that the ski gods so thoughtfully provided for our amusement.  Awesome, thanks.

Even without good weather or killer skiing, the Bay Area managed to charm us.  One thing that helped was getting to meet up with a bunch of our good friends for dinner (I don't think I've ever had to color out so many faces in one photo before).  Around the table are Sarni, Dell, Slippie, YL, LB, KU, Cutie, and me.  You may have noticed that a significant number of these friends are former East Coast transplants who defected for the Sunnier Side.  The Friend Drain, I call it.

We also got to spend a lot of time with LB in the Peninsula.  And what's a visit to the Peninsula without a stop at Google, the overlord of all search engines?  Check out these Google bikes we found sitting around, ripe for the taking.  Not that we took any.  You hear that, Google?  We didn't take any!!

Gingerbread man, LB, and the Google Droid.  Three trouble-makers if I ever saw any.

The Google Droid as incredibly huggable, until I leaned in and heard something clunk inside his giant belly.  Gross.  What was that?

LB and I prepare to have a serious conference meeting atop one of the Google Conference Bikes.  (Incidentally, Sarni found out that one of these bikes goes for about 10K Euros - apparently these suckers are popular with the European crowd.)  LB, why aren't you paying attention to my amazing brainstorming?


Bay Area.  On Canon Powershot.

Transportation Breakdown

As if getting around NYC wasn't difficult enough.


Union Square.  On Canon Powershot.

Who Has a Green Thumb?

I have a green thumb.

Living in New York, we don't have a lot of access to greenery.  Most New Yorkers end up cultivating their own little miniature gardens in a desperate attempt to stay in touch with anything natural.  This is achieved with varying degrees of success, or in my case, blinding triumph.

Case in point.  Here's a Phalaenopsis (yes, I did have to look up the spelling) Orchid that I got approximately 5 years ago.  Under my loving care, and despite occasional lapses in said care, it has not only survived, but regularly blooms up to 10 flowers for our enjoyment.  (And also because it's biologically required to, but I get the sense that it is largely because it wants to make us happy.)

Do you see what I mean?

However, buoyed (read:  inflated) by the massive success of my first orchid, Sarni and I purchased a second orchid approximately 4 years ago.  I mean, sure, it was absurdly cheap, especially compared to the original orchid, and sure, we purchased it at a bodega.  (Seriously.)  But that's no reason to think it won't flower, right?  Wrong.  It never flowered, despite all my best coaxing and most violent threats.  (Bet you're pretty impressed with my green thumb now.)

However, Sarni discovered this amazing invention recently - it's an Aqua Globe!  You fill it with water and jam it in the soil, and when the soil gets too dry, the Aqua Globe releases more water.  What we discovered when we used the Aqua Globes is that Cheapy (the second orchid) guzzled water at a much higher rate than Posh (the first orchid).  And THAT told me that all this time, Cheapy must have been dealing with a much lower quality of soil than Posh.  Even though I was giving them the same water.  In other words, Cheapy had been starving.

Anyway, here's what Cheapy had to say about all of this:

Cheapy, welcome to New York.

Happy Presidents' Day, all.


New York City.  On Canon Powershot.

Little Miss Saigon

Cuddles and I met our friend LL (Lady Longhorn) when she visited NYC from the Other Coast.  She brought with her adorable Baby K, a little Longhorn in training, I'm sure.  (As soon as those tiny fingers gain dexterity, they're gonna be flashing those horns.  I just know it.)

We met for lunch at Saigon Market (formerly Saigon Grill) for some warming noodles and soup to stave off the biting chill still in the air.  Saigon Market (which was surprisingly child-friendly) may not be the best Vietnamese food around (the "chicken" in my noodles was several large steps removed from actual chicken), but the setting is spacious and comfortable.  And the company, of course, was impeccable.  Baby K charmed the stuffing out of everyone.

In fact, towards the end of the meal, Cuddles unveiled her decision to keep Baby K.  Only LL's swift intervention prevented a totally understandable Babynapping.


Union Square.  On Canon Powershot.

Rebirth, Renewal

Waiting for spring.


Madison Square Park.  On Canon Powershot.

Loud and Crowded

How NYC sometimes feels.

Lower East Side.  On Canon Powershot.

When Grocery Stores Become VIP Events

Okay, so here's another "only in New York" moment that I haven't encountered before - a line to GET INTO Trader Joe's.  Oh, and Sarni and I were at about the middle of the line - there was a slew of people behind us, too.  Not to mention that the line to check out started as soon as you entered the grocery store, so Sarni had to wait in line while I squeezed past dozens of irritable line-goers, just to collect our food (most of which was missing from the shelves).  Yes.  Only in New York is getting groceries like going to an exclusive club.


Union Square.  On Canon Powershot.

What's in the Most Common Name?

Don't let the common name fool you.  This is a great place to eat.

I had lunch with a friend at The Smith the other day, and was reminded of what a good lunch place it is - the setting is hip, the food is tasty (I particularly love the egg-white omelette with wild mushrooms), and the service is (usually) pretty friendly.  Or at least not unfriendly which, let's be honest, is about as much as you can hope for in NYC.

I actually think it's all in the name - just like the "The" bands of 10 years ago (The Vines, The White Stripes, The Strokes), The Smith knows that if you slap a strong preposition in front of it, it doesn't matter what comes next.  People are gonna be intrigued.

This post was totally not thematic, but Happy Valentine's Day.  :)

UPDATE:  LB just informed me that there was also a famous band called The Smiths.  What are the odds??  Anyway, my bad for not knowing that.  Hmm.  I wonder if The Smith is aware of The Smiths?  I'll raise it next time I'm there.  I am sure they will be impressed.



East Village.  On Canon Powershot.

Run Rabbit Run

I'm a little late on this, but happy Year of the Rabbit, my loyal blog peeps!  I was actually reminded of this celebration by the elaborate decorations our apartment building set up in the lobby.

According to Wikipedia (nothing but the highest quality of research for you, my pets), those born under the sign of the rabbit may be some or all of the following:  gracious, a good friend, kind, sensitive, soft-spoken, amiable, elegant, reserved, cautious, artistic, thorough, tender, self-assured, shy, astute, compassionate, lucky, flexible, moody, detached, superficial, self-indulgent, opportunistic, stubborn.

I don't know about you, but that seems pretty broad.  Was "sometimes sleepy" and "occasionally hungry" not available?

But I cast my cynicism aside in honor of the Adorable Bunny.  Seriously, between this, Easter and those freaky Cadbury Egg commercials, this furry little guy's having a pretty good year.


New York City.  On Canon Powershot.

Keepin' It Real

New Yorker critics weigh in and provide a thoughtful review on the awful new reality show filmed in NYC.


Lower East Side.  On Canon Powershot.

Gi'O'er, Billy Elliot

Last night, Sarni and I went all Broadway.  We watched Billy Elliot, the Musical.  I had already seen Billy Elliot, the Movie several times (and adored it), so I had very high hopes for the musical version.

Although I was pretty bummed at first because I ended up sitting behind a person with the most enormous head ever.  I don't mean to be rude, but it was kind of like sitting behind Stewie Griffin from Family Guy.

Anyway, after I got over that issue (primarily by leaning inappropriately close to the girl next to me), Sarni and I ended up really enjoying Billy Elliot.  Personally, I have an odd fascination with the Thatcherite coal strike crisis in Northern England anyway (I just finished slogging through a 500-page tome called The Northern Clemency, which is based on that period).  And Sarni - well, Sarni liked the English police uniforms (see, e.g., the post from Halloween).  The musical really was very good - they did a great job translating the movie to the stage.  Although I did spend a large part of the first half wondering (i) where they found so many talented kids, (ii) why the kids' parents don't mind them swearing their heads off for the musical, and (iii) why the kids aren't in school.

Sarni and I spent much of the latter half very concerned that the actors were going to fall through a hole in the stage.  One of the stage mechanics malfunctioned, leaving a dented, half-filled hole in the middle of the stage.  I swear, when the little boy on the bicycle rode towards the hole at the end, I nearly passed out from the suspense of it all.  Never mind Maggie Thatcher, this is clearly where the action was at.


Broadway.  On Canon Powershot (and "borrowed" from the internet).

there are no capitals in this blog post title

While waiting for permission to enter The Order of Heavenly Meatballs, Sarni and I stumbled upon a macaron shop called bisous, ciao.  (You know you're in for a special treat when a name has no capital letters.)  At three dollars a pop (a pop being a tiny, tiny macaron), these buggers don't come cheap.  They were pretty good, but we had the sinking feeling we were largely paying for the rent on the empty, unused space surrounding the few macarons (pretty much shown above).

"You're really going to enjoy me for about two seconds, and then you're going to feel like a sucker."


UPDATE:  For some more scrumptious macaron action, proceed to the always delectable LovelyCozy - the girl knows a good macaron when she sees it!

Lower East Side.  On Canon Powershot.

That's a Spicy Meatball.

The title of this post is apparently what people of Italian descent say when they can't think of a proper reaction.  At least according to Urban Dictionary.  I feel it is necessary to point that out so you guys know this blog is properly researched and diligently prepared for your entertainment.

The other day, Sarni and I ate at The Meatball Shop.  You might notice that I didn't specify a particular meal.  That's because we ate at 4:00 in the afternoon.  So we're either advanced senior citizens, or really tardy hipsters who have invented "Linner."  In reality, we were just trying to avoid the infamous hour-plus wait.  Unfortunately, even at 4:00 in the afternoon on a Sunday, we had to wait for half an hour.  Gotta love New York.  Thankfully, we spent that time eating overpriced macarons at a nearby shop (I'll save that post for tomorrow).

When we finally got to sit down to our meal, I have to say that it was worth it.  You order by ticking off your choices on an erasable menu, which felt only slightly gimmicky.  It also brought me back to childhood, when your parents would give you crayons and paper so you could draw at the table, and you would gift your drawing to the restaurant owner afterwards with a feeling of great benevolence, and they would smile weakly as they tried to figure out why your dog has three eyes.  Anyway.  This is getting off track.  In the end, we ordered one order of "Naked" meatballs (spicy pork in spicy tomato sauce), three meatball sliders (beef with tomato sauce, chicken with mushroom gravy and chicken cordon bleu with creamy parmesan), mashed potatoes and saffron risotto.  Sarni's favorite was the beef meatball slider with tomato sauce, and mine was the chicken meatball slider with mushroom gravy.  They were yummy, and also, don't they look so cute?  We also both liked the mashed potatoes, although we agreed that the proportion of butter to potatoes was probably about 3:1.

For dessert, we had an ice cream sandwich (chocolate chip cookies and homemade vanilla ice cream).  It was good (the vanilla ice cream was really good), but after I pulled out the cookies and segregated them onto another plate, Sarni pointed out that what we were eating was just cookies and ice cream.  "Suckas!"  (That was the ice cream sandwich, not Sarni, he doesn't talk like a character from a Judd Apatow movie.)


Lower East Side.  On Canon Powershot.

Deceptively Beautiful

I was admiring how pretty the white snow looked, piled on the branches of the dark trees.  "Look," I thought to myself, "I'll take a photo for the blog!"  As I was doing that, the tree above me deposited a clump of snow onto my head.

Sometimes I feel like this city is a mischievous (and occasionally irritating) bird - you just want to love it, but sometimes it drops stuff on your head.  Yeah, I went there.

Morgan Library.  On Canon Powershot.

Shakespeare Revisited

Pre-Raph and I went to watch our beautiful actress friend Belle (who I posted about here) in her new play, The Devil's Bride.  It's a sequel to Much Ado About Nothing, and it was so engaging - the time flew by without us noticing it!  You have it all:  villains, heros, comedy, drama, passion, redemption.  It's good stuff, that Shakespeare (and his derivatives).  Plus, you have stunning Belle as Marisol.  What more could you want?

Since I already posted Belle's headshot (see link above), I'll post a headshot of her boyfriend (aww, sorry fellas, she's taken).  BM starred as the dastardly but (spoiler alert) reluctantly kind Don Jon.  Shakespeare would so have approved.


Gramercy.  On Canon Powershot.

That's Just How We Ski, New York-Style

So the primary benefit of having bucketloads of snow dumped on NYC (besides the two seconds of prettiness before the snow turns into unrecognizable mush) is that those of us who like to brave bitter cold to slide down snowy slopes rejoice at the opportunity to do it again.  To that end, Sarni and I went up to Hunter Mountain (in the Catskills) for a day of skiing last weekend.

Here's a photo of Sarni posing just before we launch into some black runs.  Don't let the fact that he looks like he's skiing uphill fool you - the boy is a skiing machine.

Two things I have realized is that (1) different ski resorts really do not standardize their grading system for runs and (2) I am developing into an amazing skier.  Okay, the second thing is part of a delusion, but the first thing is totally true.  When we were at Killington a few weeks ago, I could really only handle blues and greens (Sarni, of course, with his infinite love of risking bodily harm, continued to ski double black diamonds).  At Hunter, even I skied some black runs, and I never went lower than a blue.  I guess that's what happens when you live in a state that's vertically challenged - they grade the runs on a curve.

As for that delusional second thing, I did find myself improving on both speed and form.  I skied parallel most of the time, and I continued to nurse my need for speed.  Unfortunately, this seemed to result in an inflated ego and the conviction that I could race down the black run with hardly any turns.  After nearly taking out an elderly skier, a child, and a medic, I had the following conversation with the medic:

Medic:  "Are you glad you finally came to a stop?"

Me:  "Yeah...I probably shouldn't do that run again."

Medic:  "No, you shouldn't."

Me:  "Wait, really?  Did I look -" (searching brain for modest synonym for "badass")

Medic:  Totally out of control.


Hmph.  I maintain that just because I bomb down the hill with a terrified look on my face doesn't mean I'm not in control.  Anyway.  He shouldn't have been wearing a big white cross on his back.  That thing is like a bull's-eye for speed demons like me.

Catskills (upstate New York).  On Canon Powershot.

Learning to Be Zen

Even though Sarni and I have lived in NYC for several years now, own an apartment, and just generally feel like "real" New Yorkers (with all due deference to the "real" New Yorkers born and raised in Manhattan), there are some major "New York" restaurants that we've never been to.  Buddakan is one of them.  So when our old friend AK came to NYC for business, this is where we decided to meet him for dinner.

For such a large-scale (it's cavernous!) meatpacking district restaurant, the food was - maybe surprisingly - good.  We had spicy yellowtail sashimi (above) and General Tso's dumplings for apps, sizzling short ribs (yum), glazed alaskan black cod (double yum) and roast duck noodles for mains, lobster fried rice (plentiful but a bit plain) and veggies with thousand-year tofu skin (strange) for sides.

And for dessert, harkening back to Sarni's British roots, we had apple bread pudding (above).  Oh, and we saw Heidi Montag having drinks in the lounge.  Sarni is skeptical whether it was her, and AK couldn't have cared less, but I know it was her guys!  I know it!  She was sitting there, looking all plasticized.

After dinner, we continued our Buddha-themed night by grabbing drinks at Ajna (formerly Buddha Bar).  Here's a shot of my Black Buddha.  It had pomegranate juice in it, so it was healthy.

Here's a shot of one of the buddhas lining the entrance.  I took it on the way out, so you can blame the fuzziness on my Black Buddha.  Those suckers are deceptively sweet but secretly lethal.


Meatpacking District.  On Canon Powershot.