Friday Afternoon Excursion: Starn Brothers Bambu Exhibit at the MET

As Izzy and I walked home from school today, he seemed a bit forlorn.  He was feeling left out as he watched his classmates walk off for a playdate, knowing we had no particular plans.

I thought I would cheer him with a cup of hot vanilla (warm milk, honey and sprinkle of cinnamon dust) which we both sipped as I looked through the Weekend section of the New York Times.  Yes, I still read the hard copy of the paper. Am I the only one left?

I immediately honed-in on Last Chance section of the Art listings, where I noted that the Starn Brothers Bambu exhibit on the rooftop of the MET would be closing this weekend.  I suggested we go since the MET is open until 9 on Fridays and Izzy quickly agreed.  We made it there by 5:30, just in time to catch the gorgeous sunset upon the foliage of Central Park.  Better yet, A. happened to be working nearby and joined us.  Not only did we catch Bambu - which is a wondrous configuration of bamboo poles - but we also managed to peek in a few other places, including the Egyptian section - where Izzy clamored to see the mummies.  Izzy was skipping from room to room but I had to cut our visit short since it was already 7 p.m. and we needed to eat dinner.

We hopped in a cab across the park and made our way to Gazala Place which I have been meaning to write about for ages.  I discovered this narrow storefront in Hell's Kitchen in springtime and somehow managed to eat there during my treatments.  I ate there a couple of times on the days my treatments were canceled and I actually had an appetite.  This delicious Middle-Eastern spot features Druze cuisine and it was so delicious, I was eager to have Izzy and A. join me there.  We ordered the Mezze plate which showcases many of the wonderful offerings, including the smoky baba-ganoush, meat-filled cigars, Kibbe, falafel and hummous, served up with their incredible version of pita bread, made on the premises.  This paper-thin delight is addictive and Izzy held onto the bread basket to make sure he got the last bit before the waitress cleared the table.  Meanwhile, we polished off a fresh Fattoush salad (cucumbers, tomatoes, scallions, lettuce, crisped pita), a roasted fish and a lamb/beef kafte platter.  By that time, Izzy was falling asleep in the noisy restaurant and it was time to waddle along.  Taxi to the Path and we were on our way.  Certainly a memorable afternoon/evening for all.

Gazala Place will probably be around for awhile but you can only catch the Starn Brothers exhibit until Sunday.  If your kids are over 10 you can even go on the guided tour atop the bamboo poles for a real adventure. Definitely worth the trip!

Doughnuts and Carnival Kitsch: Doughnut Plant/Park Avenue Armory Carnival

How can I choose?

Starting at the Doughnut Plant, followed by several hours at The Park Avenue Armory and ending with pizza at Artichoke Basille, today we crammed in as much old school food and fun as we possibly could.

I had earmarked The Park Avenue Armory Carnival as the perfect outing for this three-day weekend.  Just the mention of a 50 foot Ferris wheel inside a building was enticement enough.  Never one to just go into the city without planning where to eat, I quickly hatched a plan to stop on the Lower East Side for doughnuts, before continuing on to our destination.

The Doughnut Plant has been on my radar ever since it opened so I was anxious to finally give it a try.
We arrived to find a line out the door of the tiny store front.  Izzy patiently awaited his turn, spending his time pondering the selection.  There were yeast doughnuts and cake doughnuts, glazed and more. With fillings such as blackberry jam,  creme brulee or chocolate pudding, it was a tough choice.  When it was finally our turn, we chose two creme brulee, one chocolate pudding and a vanilla glazed.  By the time we left the doughnut shop, it was already lunchtime and Izzy knew that we needed to eat before we had our treats so I tucked the doughnuts in a bag and we ventured off in search of lunch (which I hadn't exactly planned for since only doughnuts were on my mind).

As we were on the Lower East Side we weren't far from somewhere to decent to eat.  We meandered over to Clinton Street and had lunch at Cafe Pedlar.  There we lunched on "Lancaster County Eggs" to fortify us for the adventures ahead.   Lunch over, we hopped on the "F" train traveling uptown and made our way over to Park Avenue.

Stunned by mirrors and lights

The scene at the Park Avenue Armory was oddly alluring.  Crowds thronged the vast hall where there were but a few rides, the Ferris wheel played the starring role, backed up by an elephant ride, a large slide and the Trabant.  Yet the other features of the carnival more than compensated.  I had the sensation of being privy to a Coney Island sideshow in the middle of Manhattan.  The roving hula hoopers were quick to engage kids as they waited for the rides and as you can see, Izzy was always game to join.  Oh, and don't let me forget to mention that there were plenty of snacks to be found, including freshly made cotton-candy, popcorn sold in small white paper bags and Prosecco by the glass for the grown-ups.

Izzy hoops

After testing out all of the rides, Izzy led me to the show corner where we watched a contortionist and other circus-type performances. He was particularly entranced by the fellow below, who could not only balance on one chair but also managed to stack up several and do a handstand.  Talented as he was, so glad he is not my son, as the worry would be too great!

Please don't fall

When all was said and done, I was exhausted.  Izzy, however, wanted pizza.  In keeping with my desire to make every morsel count , we cabbed it back down to 14th street where I was able to cross off yet another "must" from my "where to eat" list, Artichoke and Basille.   Not surprisingly, we were met by throngs outside this oft-lauded store-front pizzeria with an extremely limited menu.  We ordered a slice of their signature artichoke pizza and one Marguerita, and had each cut in two, to share.  The artichoke slice was thick, filling and unlike any other pizza I have ever tasted.  The Marguerita, on the other hand, was fragrant with basil and somewhat akin to the pie at Di Fara.  We finished the former and merely tasted the latter.  Our bellies were full and we were happy.  We left the second slice in the box.  It was time to go home.

ABC Kitchen: An Altogether Perfect Birthday

Pretzel-Dusted Calamari

Let's go back in time to June, when I set out to chronicle my birthday.... Yes, I managed to make it one more year and my darling friend L. helped me celebrate in style.

First, she took me to dine at ABC Kitchen and we both were bowled over by the entire experience. This restaurant promotes local, sustainable, organic ingredients and products, right down to the bathroom fittings. It is an airy space and our meal was superb. The menu was such that nearly every item was something we wanted to try.

We shared a few dishes, all of which were devoured with relish.  Some are chronicled here.

Wood-roasted Maine Lobster

The desserts were inventive and remarkably delicious.

Market Strawberries and Juice, Poppy Seed Sorbet

Sundae - Salted Caramel/Peanut Ice Cream, Candied Popcorn

Belated thanks, L. I could not have asked for a better birthday meal and I must get myself back to ABC Kitchen as fast as I can.

Sheepy Sustenance (or Why It's Better To Shop At A Farmers' Market)

Not only have I been receiving meals from friends and family but I have also received gifts of sustenance from unexpected places.

When K., the sheep lady from Three-Corner-Field Farm at Union Square, found out I was ill, she immediately offered sheep yogurt and cheeses for me to my friends who continue to shop at the market. In fact, she probably knew about my illness before other people because I was often recounting my inexplicable symptoms when I saw her. She worried that I was losing weight and always asked after my health. It's farmers like her who make traveling to the greenmarket worthwhile. Not only are her products fabulous but she takes the time to build a rapport with her customers. You are not likely to find that connection at the supermarket, which is why I so miss my forays into the city these days, while I am mainly confined to my house.

K. knew I wouldn't be making it into the city for my sheepy fix, so she provided me with one highlight during the beginning of my chemotherapy treatments, the arrival of a large care package filled with goodies from Three Corner Field Farm. Inside there was my favorite Brebis Blanche cheese, along with sheep's milk yogurt, and Izzy's beloved yogurt dip, all kept frozen by a package of lamb chops! I feasted on the dairy and I saved the chops for the day when my taste buds are in good functioning order. I do imagine I will grill them soon!

Many thanks, K.!

On Sheitels and Pizza: In the heart of Midwood Brooklyn

It has been nearly five weeks since my surgery, the unfortunate outcome of which has led me to travel deep into the heart of the Midwood section of Brooklyn, to a highly acclaimed wig shop, not a place I ever expected to find myself. Nor did I ever expect it but I will be starting chemotherapy next week for stage IIIc ovarian cancer which is what the surgeons found and removed, along with all of my inner girl parts, appendix and a few other fatty pieces. But never mind those gory details, lets get to the fun part: wigs and pizza, an odd juxtaposition to be sure.

Shopping for wigs was a giddy experience. For many women, hair loss can be very traumatic but lately I haven't been especially blessed in the hair department so the idea of a little enhancement intrigued rather than repulsed. My first wig trip to Manhattan with my stepmother L., last week yielded some promising results...

This one was by far a favorite, especially Izzy's. I daresay I have always fancied myself a redhead.




Below is a more studious look..apparently reminiscent of "70's grad student".



That first wig session was glamtabulous but I wasn't convinced that that particular wig shop was exactly the right place for me and I wanted to at visit at least one more before plunking down $2500 for something the cats might tear up. After doing a bit of research, I determined that I would find a better selection and more custom work at Claire Accuhair, a family-run business known for creating sheitels (the wigs observant Jewish married women wear to hide their beauty from men aside from their husbands), as well as wigs for chemo patients.

My brother E. and his beloved, along with my sister C. and her beloved, accompanied me on the excursion to Brooklyn, which met my expectations and then some. Claire, the wig matriarch and her daughters run quite an unusual little business out of their house-like shop. They actually sew the wigs on site and we were able to tour the space and watch the painstaking work in progress. A veritable wig factory before our very eyes.

These women really know their wigs; their expertise and devotion to their work was clear.

Here the wig maven helps while here daughter looks on...



How about this playful option?



The wig I settled on will be custom colored and fitted, after which it will be washed and cut upon my head (in 10 days). I can't wait to see the final results.

After a grueling afternoon of wig try-ons, we were all in need of a bit of sustenance. When we asked for advice on where to eat, we were sent to a nearby Kosher dairy restaurant. On our way there I spied "Di Fara" Pizza. I couldn't believe it. Di fara Pizza is a destination pizzeria in a destination I would ordinarily never find myself yet there we were and from what I could see there was no line. What good fortune ( well not exactly...but never mind that). At least I can still eat good pizza, right?

Again, we found ourselves in an unusual place, a pizzeria like no other, where the owner, already in his seventies, nearly does everything himself, including pulling perfectly charred bottomed pizzas from the oven with his bare hands. Watching him snip bouquets of fresh basil over each $25 pie was even more astonishing. He, just as the wig maven, is truly devoted to his metier.


The pizza lived up to its reputation and my hope is that the sheitel will as well, turning a sad time into a glam one. May both experiences strengthen me for the days ahead.

They Coined A Name For MY Job: Hunter-Gatheress

In reality, the term was recently used to describe Annie Myers' job. She is the official forager for the Spotted Pig. A friend who read the article, immediately thought of me and said, "I found the perfect job for you."

An enviable job indeed! One that that I already do. In my position, I work for my family and friends, instead of restaurants. I develop relationships with farmers and food purveyors, continually on the lookout for what is new and noteworthy. I bring my finds back to our table instead of back to the chef.

The key difference? She gets paid and has to be at the Union Square Market at 7:30 a.m., whereas I have an unpaid gig and am just awaking at that hour.

Still and all, I wouldn't mind getting paid for my work so if any other restaurant is seeking a Hunter-Gatheress, look no further. I have all the experience required!

Trotter Terrine and Porchetta With My Partner In Pig: A Visit To Dickson's Farmstand at Chelsea Market

Since our visit to Marlow and Daughters awhile back, my partner in pig, Y., and I have been craving more house-made pate. She even went back to Williamsburg , hoping to obtain an entire pound but came back empty-handed. She was told that they just don't make the stuff on a regular basis. We tried calling. We tried special ordering. To no avail.

We had no choice but to search elsewhere for a porky fix. This time, we found it much closer to home, at Dickson's Farmstand in the Chelsea Market. Not only that but a trip to Chelsea Market opens up an entire realm of shopping. Not only would we have pate, but many other fixings for dinner and beyond.

Dickson's is set up as a butcher shop and offers up an exciting selection of grass-fed, farm-raised meats and poultry. We entered the shop, looked around but didn't see any pate in sight. When I inquired they told us there was no pate on hand. We were crestfallen until they mentioned they did have Trotter Terrine. I jumped on the chance to sample but Y. hung back, seemingly not interested. She didn't realize what she was passing up but I quickly set her straight. This distinctly herbaceous terrine was made with long cooked pigs' trotters, a fine substitute for pate to be sure. We immediately purchased some hefty slices and moved on to some other important shopping.

The old standbys like Amy's Bread and Buon Italia are still there and I stopped at both for some great bread and a completely superfluous slice of porchetta (thanks to Y. for whom pate is not enough pork). Notably new are a Jacques Torres Chocolate outpost, where I purchased two amazing chocolate chip cookies, clear contenders for some of the best in the city and Lucy's Whey, a tiny cheese purveyor carrying some premier local, artisanal cheeses.

Purchases in hand, we even found time to stop at the Ronnybrook Farm store/diner for a brief lunch. My egg in the hole with Grafton Cheddar and Egg Cream beverage were just what I needed for energy before we left for home.

So next time you crave a bit of something porky and beyond, get thee to Chelsea Market for something porcine and beyond.

A New Way Of Looking At Chicken: Head - On

Our foray into local foodstuffs at the New Amsterdam Market, also led us to the Bo Bo Chicken vendor. I examined their fowl offerings and I was intrigued by the promise of a chicken with more dark meat, since that is what we all prefer.

The chicken came wrapped up inside a plastic bag, with its head tucked neatly on the side, enabling me to promptly forget about exactly what I was in for later. When the time came to cut open the bag and prepare the chicken for dinner, I called Izzy into the kitchen to partake of the experience.

As Izzy looked on, I carefully cut the plastic bag open with a pair of kitchen scissors, allowing the blood to drip down into the sink. Izzy took one look at the bird and pronounced it, "Dead as a dumpling" (not sure what that means but you get the idea). I was far more traumatized by the sight of the sleeping bird than he, yet still I pressed on with my task of preparing it for dinner.

Part of my discomfort in looking the bird square in the face is the fact that we are so unaccustomed to doing so. Izzy, on the other hand, hasn't seen enough dead chickens to have formed a clear opinion. In fact, for him the sight of headless chickens may be more upsetting. (Recently, he was so disturbed by a scene of dancing headless chickens in the abominable movie, Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs, we had to walk out.)

Back to the chicken in question, I was faced with what to do with the head. I pondered cooking it with the head on, duck-style or simply cutting it off, which is what I ended up doing. I tossed it out, which was probably a mistake but I didn't have time to contemplate other ideas. I roasted the bird like this and we were pleased with the moist results.

Some might recoil in horror at the fact that I exposed Izzy to a chicken head but I would much prefer he recognizes a chicken as a chicken, rather than eat mysterious nuggets that masquerade as chicken. Food experiences such as this one, help him gain a greater understanding of what we eat and why.

An Haute Ho-Ho: Bouchon Bakery

Could you resist an haute Ho-Ho?? I sure couldn't. When I came face to face with one at Bouchon Bakery I had to have it, never mind my recent resolve to cut down on baked goods and chocolate, the Ho-Ho was calling. I must confess to never having eaten an actual Ho-Ho but having been a Yodel girl, the Ho-Ho seemed like a close enough relative.

I brought it home, along with two types of French macarons and a chocolate-almond croissant. The Ho-Ho was wrapped up in its own elegant box and I immediately set it out to admire. I envisioned sharing it with Izzy but one bite and I was overtaken by gourmandise. In moments, the entire Ho-Ho was gone.

Oh well, I guess I'll just have to go back and get a few more and share them with Izzy next time.

Just Like A Kid In A Candy Store: A Visit To Papabubble

If you know me you know I am the last one to ply my child with sugary candy. But I do make exceptions and Papabubble definitely warrants one. This Soho candy shop (part of a Spanish chain) provides a glimpse into the world of candy-making, as the candy makers prepare the lollipops directly behind the counter.



It is fascinating for children and adults alike to watch as they mold and shape the warm, sweet sugary substance, handing over tastes along the way. The shop walls are lined with jars full of sugar candies, in a myriad of flavors. Our favorites were mango, pear and raspberry, and there were many others on display.


Izzy and I made a special trip there in search of some accessories for his Halloween costume.



Choosing amongst the different flavors and colors wasn't easy but since one giant lollipop will last him a lifetime, (if he even manages to finish it), I wanted to make sure it was a flavor he liked.



A visit to this shop is a great way to share the art of candy making with your children. However I must advise that although these candies are certainly lovely to behold, their one downside is that they are made with artificial dyes. I ordinarily do not allow Izzy to eat anything with dyes (especially red, as the allergist has advised against it) so he will have to savor this special treat for a long time to come.

To Market To Market To Buy Plenty Of Pig: A Sunday At The New Amsterdam Market

The New Amsterdam Market is a celebration of locally produced, artisanal foods. My plans to visit this market had been foiled on a few occasions but this time I was determined to get there and make sure I had ample time to shop, and shop I did!

We arrived at the South Street Seaport in search of great food and what we found far exceeded my expectations. The stalls offered up generous samples of all kinds. I couldn't think of a better way to spend this breezy autumnal day then sampling cheeses and pig products galore.

Izzy and I, along with our friend Y., made our way methodically past all of the stalls, examining the goodies at each stand along the way. We lingered at The Piggery, where after tasting the Rustic pate, had to bring home a slab to serve for dinner with salad and hearty bread.

Along the way, we nibbled on pork rillettes, smoked duck breast and grass-fed beef chili. We had a taste of sour cream from Hudson Valley Fresh and instantly grabbed a container. Cubes of grassy cheeses, tiny dollops of fresh ricotta were only a smidgen of the other samples calling out.

There was a sweet highlight that will definitely be added to our repertoire, Liddabit Sweets. I couldn't resist their barley tea/honey lollipops, a bit pricey but worth it, along with the sea salt caramels. They have many other tempting treats as well, but decided to save those for next time.

So many notable stops I must go on... The Porchetta stand, where I finally had a taste of the greasy, porky goodness I had heard so much about. Still need to make it to the East Village for the rest of their menu.

Then there was Edward Behr's table, with an eye-catching display of his noteworthy publication, The Art of Eating. He and his wife made it down from far off Vermont to make their presence known. And good thing since hopefully they will attract all of the Gourmet subscribers looking for a new food read.

And on it goes...In the two hours or so we were there, I still left having meant to try or buy something else. The biggest surprise there was The Bent Spoon from Princeton, an artisanal ice cream shop I had only dreamed of visiting. I hope that they were their testing the New York market. Their dark chocolate rosemary flavor is an incredible experience, one I am glad I didn't miss. And on that note...

The next New Amsterdam Market will be held on Sunday, November 22. Don't shop for a week before you go so your fridge is empty! Hope to see you there.

A Wonderful Concert and An Offal Meal: They Might Be Giants and DBGB

I don't know about you but I can live without most kid bands, with their grating tunes and annoying lyrics. They Might Be Giants are a rare exception. They are one of the chosen few that Izzy and I both adore. They started out as a grown-up band and still are but since Izzy was little they have been doing kid stuff as well, which I admit I love just as much. Their concert today, at the Skirball Center at NYU was as joyous and engaging as the one we attended last year. If you haven't heard the new CD, check it out here. It is edutainment at its very best. I might have done better in science class if my teachers had used it to teach the periodic table.

At today's concert, we unexpectedly found ourselves in second row seats (at the urging of ushers who told us to move forward to empties in the front) which made the concert that much more thrilling for all of us. Unlike last year,this time Izzy danced uninhibitedly in the aisles. The confetti machines were an added bonus, causing Izzy to race around excitedly, collecting heaps of it to take home. The concert, just a bit over an hour, was just the right length for antsy kids.




Izzy definitely worked up an appetite from all of his wiggling during the show so he was eager to continue on with the next part of our outing. Afterward we hopped into a cab and sped over to DBGB where we met my dad and stepmother for dinner. DBGB is Daniel Boulud's new, gentler priced restaurant on the Bowery, specializing in all manner of sausages. Also offering seafood platters and an enticing selection of offal. The menu is full of so many gems, choosing was not so easy for some of us. For Izzy, however, it was a breeze. He read over the menu and promptly selected the octopus appetizer and veal tongue for his main course.




I chose the Duck Egg Bourguignon (an unusual preparation with a panko-coated egg served atop a portabello mushroom, accompanied by salad with duck cracklins) and the Crispy Pig's Foot (having somehow forgotten my Parisian pig foot experience). We were a table of tasters so even though I could not order everything on the menu, I managed to take in a decent sampling. As for my "Pied de Cochon" it was world's tastier and meatier than the one I had eaten in France. Even my dad, who was reluctant to taste it, had to admit it was a succulent morsel.


Just look at that trotter in all of its crusty splendor. Glad I didn't remember my past experience or I wouldn't have ordered it. Even so, I only managed to eat half of it, as I was trying to keep to my new way of eating and the the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

With all of our sampling and the late hour, it's a wonder Izzy and I still had room for dessert but he had his heart set on some chocolate sorbet with whipped cream and I agreed to give it a try. At least it arrived quickly and our waiter offered it to us on the house, along with a sundae, as compensation for enduring an unusually long wait for our food. The restaurant was most likely overwhelmed after the wonderful review in the Times the other day, well-deserved to be sure.

Despite the dreary weather, our rare family excursion was a success. We will be looking out for the next TMBG concert in the NYC area. As for DBGB? There were so many dishes left to try I need to go back soon.. Tripe anyone?

Cramming It All In: Part III...Life Goes On

Awaiting the Rosh Hashanah Feast

Without much fanfare, Izzy began First Grade on September 2, 2009. As he was continuing at the same school, it didn't have the same significance it may have had, had he started at a new one. He had new teachers but many of his old friends were along with him so he was comfortable and calm, excited to just be back at school. The main difference would be that he was now part of a new room, the Earth Room, which unfortunately was not ready. Consequently, during the first month of school, he and his classmates were shuttled about from one room to another. Despite that glitch, for the most part, all was well and knowing Izzy was safe at school made it easier for me to go off and visit my grandpa on a daily basis.

Rosh Hashanah arrived on September 18 (before the bad news) and we went to my dad's house for dinner. Most years past, I cook for the holiday but this time all I could muster were the Rugelach and some Challah. When I asked my stepmother what she was preparing, she mentioned a brisket. I told her about a succulent recipe I had clipped a year ago and quickly sent it off to her, just in case she changed her mind. This recipe for Flanken with Pomegranate struck me as being an instant success and I longed to make it. Much to my surprise, L. made it and it was the star of the table, already laden with many other luscious holiday dishes. It may just reappear at my Hanukkah meal this year, just wait and see.



With the Jewish holidays upon us, it was also time to consider synagogue and Hebrew School for Izzy. For the moment Izzy is a Hebrew school dropout, as I search for a new way to continue Izzy's Jewish education. Which brings me to the Pickle Festival and Sukkot.

What better way to celebrate our Jewish heritage than to attend a Pickle Festival on the Lower East Side and then visit a Sukkah in the West Village? On October 4 (A's birthday but he was out of town), Izzy and I set out to sample pickles and who should we run into but my sister C., hawking wares at the Brooklyn Kitchen stand. Izzy and I made our rounds, toting home some Moroccan Green Beans from Brooklyn Brine and some Holy Chevre from the Adamah Dairy.

Our next stop was The New Shul in the West Village. I loved, loved, loved the vibe at their Sukkot gathering, met some lovely synagogue members, Hebrew school teachers and the rabbi. To top it off, Izzy and I thoroughly enjoyed the 100 mile meal that was created for the occasion. A synagogue that celebrates local, organic produce?? What more could I ask for!! On the downside, Izzy is not too keen on Hebrew school given his less than stellar experience last year so we may just have to wait and continue to attend events at the Shul whenever we can.


Meanwhile, Izzy's class has finally been granted their very own Earth Room. To celebrate, some other moms and I planned an "Earth-Warming Party" where the kids planted herbs and we brought in some goodies to celebrate. There were bags of homemade popcorn and I baked some incredible Banana-Chocolate Chip Cake, along with two kinds of scones. More on those soon.

Oh and somewhere in between these occasions were simpler ones. A lovely meal spent with friends on a rooftop. Check out the grand Jersey City view!



Also of now is Izzy's leaps and bounds in reading. He is now immersed in Chapter Books! It is sometimes difficult to tear him away from the couch.



And this is only the half of it, as other milestones occurred, deserving of a separate post. For now I will leave you with a link to a recipe for some of the moistest, crustiest finger-licking spare-ribs you could ever imagine, from the now sadly defunct Gourmet Magazine (R.I.P.).

New Amsterdam Market Envy And A Homemade Butter Consolation Prize

Once again I missed the boat with the New Amsterdam Market at the South Street Seaport. Indeed the list of vendors there is impressive, from bakeries to butchers and chocolate in between, it sounds like a food lover's paradise. Unlike other markets, this one arrives sporadically, rather than weekly. As in the past, I had every intention of going but familial obligations took precedence and it was off for a late lunch at my mother-in-law's house.

On my way home, I read my friend D.'s account of her visit to the market and all of her spoils. From bacon at Fleisher's Meats to goat cheese from 1802 Beekman , D. made a careful selection of goods that convinced me not to miss the next market, which will fortunately take place on October 25, 2009.

It was a good thing I missed the market today for while D. was shopping her heart out, I was being treated to my second homemade meal of the week. This one prepared by my MIL J. and her husband T. There was lasagna, an incredible Shakespearean inspired salad made with almond butter and capers (two items I would never have imagined together), homemade bread and homemade butter prepared by her husband T., with apple pie for dessert. Izzy had a swell time playing with Hess trucks and putting together a Lego plane with his cousin. I brought home a fragrant bouquet of freshly clipped rosemary and bay leaves, along with Asian pears all collected from J.'s garden. Izzy helped gather the pears in a basket and a swell time was had by all.

And so I say, eat today, market tomorrow (or next month as the case may be).

Governor's Island: Easy Weekend Jaunt

Hop the free ferry along with the goats and sheep (next to the Staten Island Ferry) and you will discover a new realm of New York City, with views of the Statue of Liberty, plenty of shade and excellent roads for biking and scooting. This is a place to have a picnic and spend the day. There are even a couple of food carts and place to have burgers near a small sandy "beach".

I chose to go there today because I was lured in by this article in the New York Times. Today's event was water-themed but somehow included a chance to use an old-fashioned apple press to make cider, something I could not pass up.



Little did I know we would also happen upon a food cart culinary bonanza. There were several acclaimed food carts in attendance, including the Arepa Lady and the NY City Dosa Cart. We sampled both for lunch. We also meant to try some desserts but never got to them.

I followed Izzy as he scooted around the island, wishing I had brought my scooter as well. We barely had a chance to investigate all that the island has to offer as we were pulled in by all of the special activities of the day. No matter, all the more reason for us to return.

A Day On The Lower East Side:Eldridge Street Synagogue, Roast Pig and Pickles

Given his druthers, Izzy would have stayed in the backyard all day, happily playing in mud. I was almost inclined to indulge him for I could have easily lazed on our swing and read the Sunday paper. Giving in to slothfulness was not an option, since earlier this morning I had come across an idea for an outing to the Lower East Side and I couldn't shake it.

There was a family program at The Eldridge Street Synagogue which promised to turn kids into detectives as they explored what life was life during the synagogue's heyday. The date 1909 was included in the event description and since that is the year of my grandfather's birth, I took it as a sign that we should visit today. As it has long been on my list of places to visit, I coaxed Isadore to join me.

We arrived at the beautifully restored synagogue, now nestled in the middle of Chinatown, just in time for the event to begin. Having grown up attending a modern, rather ugly synagogue, it was a pleasure to visit such an ornate and beautiful example of Jewish house of worship. We were one of only three families attending so it was an intimate gathering. I especially loved that one of the other attendees brought along her newest American Girl doll, Rebecca, who (according to her bio) is Jewish and attended Eldridge Street. The children were given binoculars and magnifying glasses and they scoured old photographs, and the synagogue for clues as to what life was like way back when.



When our visit ended, we needed to have lunch. I had no set idea in mind as to where we would eat, having imagined that something like Katz's would have fit in perfectly with the mood. We began wandering but quickly switched gears when Izzy recalled his distaste for pastrami.
Instead we had the good fortune of stumbling upon An Choi.

An Choi is a small Banh Mi establishment on Orchard Street. I had read about this wonderful Vietnamese sandwich spot a few months ago and was more than pleased to give it a try. Leave it to me to want a roast pig sandwich after a visit to a synagogue but I simply couldn't resist. I chose the sandwich that boasted "chunks of moist Chinese roast pork belly and slivers of crispy skin". The crisp pickled carrots and cucumbers turned the sandwich into a symphony of textures and flavors. Izzy was not quite as taken as I was and proceeded to extract the skin from his half (which sadly was a tad more fatty than crunchy but tasty nonetheless).



While eating our sandwiches on a bench out front, we spied Guss' Pickles only a few steps away. After lunch, we stopped in for another dose of the old Jewish Lower East Side. There was a food tour underway as we approached.



Izzy was captivated by the offerings and waited patiently for our turn. Quart of pickles in hand, we made our way onwards toward Il Laboratorio Del Gelato, another spur of the moment stop on what was turning into a veritable food bonanza! The milk chocolate is a must!

Bellies full, we pressed on to a playground. Izzy needed some playtime after all that eating and I needed to sit down. We made it to Thompkins Square Park just in time for Izzy to terrorize a few little kids at the water park and also find their Sunday Greenmarket in full swing, something to keep in mind if you need some farm fresh goods over the weekend. My cheese love, Consider Bardwell Farm was there and I managed to score a Mettowee. Yippee!!

But our day did not end there. Finally tuckered out, we hopped a cab over to the 9th Street Path only to discover the Gay Pride Parade marching along, in all its rainbowed splendor. Izzy insisted upon inching up for a better view and by the end he seriously coveted a rainbow flag. He was taken in by the music and colors, and we agreed to attend next year. Throngs of parade-goers packed the train on our way home and Izzy decided he would try to wipe a rainbow flag from one of them. I told him that might not be a good idea so he decided upon buying one at a toy store. I explained that we probably wouldn't find one there, that the West Village would be a more likely spot.



What a day! Izzy conceded that sometimes it is more fun to go out and explore instead of staying home and being a stick in the mud!

A Puddle Of Camembert And Other Market Day Mishaps

Wednesday is market day. The day I go into the city and attempt to cram as much as I can into my granny cart, insulated backpack and various bags which dangle from my person. I ought to know by now, that when I over-stuff, wackiness ensues. Once at the market, the urge to buy everything I need in one outing prevails . Some days I manage to make it home, purchases unscathed. Other days I am not so lucky. Today was one of those days.

I left the house this morning with a seemingly reasonable list of purchases at Union Square Market and Whole Foods. The catch was that I needed to buy a bunch of plants for an afternoon gardening playdate and also to gussy up the yard for tomorrow's "Jewels In My Garden" Party,* for which I had even planned to prepare homemade clotted cream.

I spent about two hours doing my marketing, and was pleased that my plan to buy the plants last had worked out. I even managed to get the flat of plants to perch precariously atop the cart** so that I could manage to schlep everything home. One of my last stops before the plants was Ronny Brook Farm, where I bought the Camembert and heavy cream for my clotted cream. I was too lazy to remove the backpack from my shoulders so I just tossed the glass bottle of cream and the cheese into a flimsy bag, which dangled from my arm.

As I slowly and daintily (not) made my way along 14th street, I basked in the sunny day and in the fact that I had done all of my errands. As I smiled to myself, one of the bags slipped from my arm and went crashing to the sidewalk. Wouldn't you know it was the one with the glass bottle of heavy cream?!! So there I stood, stunned, as the heavy cream seeped through the bag and all over the sidewalk. Two ladies, one younger, one older stopped to assist me but it became clear I was beyond assistance. What is to be done with a bag of dripping with heavy cream and full of broken glass anyway? The older lady seemed to think that I could cram the soggy bag into a tiny plastic bag but that wouldn't work. The younger lady agreed that I had no choice but to toss the bag (and it was a favorite) and the whole soggy mess into a trash can and get on with it. I did manage to salvage some art supplies I had purchased for Izzy (cream covered tape and glue..perhaps soap and water would help) and then I simply carried on.

Well all was not over yet. I crossed the street and bumped my way into the Path Station, mainly mourning the loss of that luscious heavy cream, since, after all, clotted cream cannot be made with supermarket cream. I also pondered the fate of the Camembert, imagining it covered in heavy cream..

Back to reality, once in Jersey City, I tried to be as careful as ever but I was certainly eager to get home, as every part of my body ached from the excess baggage. One wrong bump and my plants would overturn, I thought to myself. Wouldn't you know that is exactly what happened. Dirt and plants were scattered near the Light Rail station. I did salvage them and they are now safely planted in our backyard.



Oh and the Camembert? Well I found it in another bag and, no surprise, it was unusually soft. I tossed it in the fridge, thinking it might firm up a bit...Plain to see, many hours outside of the fridge did not help it. Izzy was brave enough to sample it and said, "It looks like cream but it tastes sour." Too bad because it is generally a soft, creamy delight.



* If I failed to invite you and you live around here and would like to join, email me and I will give you the details!

**Please note that I do not recommend this mode of transport if you have another one!

Just Another Day In New York City: Cafe Sabarsky, The Whitney and Central Park

I am weary. Fatigue and seasonal allergies have kept me from posting for the longest stretch ever. If only I had one of these to soothe...

This giant ice pack (surreptiously photographed at the Whitney) is a Claes Oldenburg original. We went to see the exhibit on Friday, with Izzy's friend T., who is related to the artist. The show includes some larger than life pleather items, including French Fries "with a splat of ketchup" (Izzy's words). These pieces are sure to amuse and T. could not keep from touching them, as she had previously been allowed to do so. You try telling the museum guards that...

Our visit to the museum was preceded by a lunch at Cafe Sabarsky, my stand-by in the neighborhood, where the spatzle is nearly always a hit. Though not so much with Izzy's friend T. who only deemed the toast worthy of eating.. Picky eater boot camp awaits!

We followed our museum visit with a trip to the 72nd Street playground, where T. terrified her mama when she climbed the spiderweb.



T.'s mama was weary after that so they left and we stayed on, to sail the remote control sailboats nearby. Somehow we ended up crossing town for a fix of Grom. By then we were too exhausted to stay in the city for dinner so we dragged ourselves home.

In The Realm Of Red Hook: Gowanus Nursery, Tiburon and Baked (yet again)

This time I was on a mission. A trip to the Gowanus Nursery to purchase the beginnings of a small, ornamental garden and a visit to Tiburon, a recently opened, handmade dress shop. And of course no outing to Red Hook would be complete without a side-trip to Baked, which completed the day.

My initial plan was to stop at the nursery first but we somehow ended up at the dress shop instead. One dress led to another and before I knew I had tried on nearly all of them. Meanwhile, my friend S.was trying to drag me out of there so we could attend to our gardening so I eventually selected one adorable dress and some bloomers and we left. The owner was kind enough to alter the dress within the hour and I picked it up on our way home.

We eventually made it to Gowanus Nursery which features an eclectic selection of plants, trees and garden accessories. My friend S., with a greater vision of gardening than I, helped me choose as I wandered aimlessly amongst the delightfully beautiful offerings. I ended up with some gorgeous plants which Izzy will help me transplant into our garden patch within the next few days.

Of course by this time we had worked up an appetite so after my garden was outfitted, we couldn't help but stop at Baked. I bought a sandwich for my upcoming trip and then I had to try their Apricot-Rosemary Shortbread bars. What an inspired combination. These are a textural delight; a crunch oat topping covers soft, sweet apricot, all atop a fragrant rosemary-kissed crust.

Baked goods in hand, our trip was complete and I am already contemplating the next one. So far my friend S. has driven me there but I have been investigating ways to get to Red Hook by public transit. Word has it there is a ferry from South Street which goes to Ikea, and from there the other shops are within walking distance. Sounds like an adventure to me!

Winding Our Way Through Williamsburg In Search Of Treasure

With friends S. and T., we spent a day hopping in and out of their car, on a mission to check out many of the destinations highlighted in a recent NY Times article on Brooklyn's local culinary treasures.

We began with lattes at El Beit, a local coffee bar. Way too strong for me but according to my latte aficionado they were perfect. Izzy appreciated the heart-shaped design on top. Too much attitude but if you are a coffee-lover, worth a visit.

So fortified, we were off. We poked into a clothing shop or two and then we did make it to Mast Brothers Chocolates, only to find a sign stating their weekend hours. Noting people inside, I left the others in the car to go inside to investigate. Although they were not officially open for business I was allowed to purchase some of their intriguing chocolate bars, each one of which comes beautifully wrapped. I chose the salt and pepper version. I haven't tried it yet but will keep you posted.

All shopping and no play makes for unpleasant offspring so we had to stop at this tiny urban garden, conveniently located across from Urban Rustic, one of the stops on our list. While there I was able to pick up some much needed local organic eggs, since I didn't make it to Union Square this week.



Between lattes, lunch and a few clothing shops thrown in, we didn't quite make it everywhere we had intended. All tuckered out, we piled back into the car for the trip back to JC, which took us far longer than it should have, given that it was Good Friday. Still and all, a fine time was had by all.