Why I Heart NY

Oh New York, it is so hard to leave you. After 15 years together, I’m still as giddy as a school girl when someone mentions your name. You’d think after all this time I would just be sick of you.

where else do your bad photos just look like you're avoiding the paparazzi?

where else do your bad photos just look like you’re avoiding the paparazzi?

Well…to be honest…I was sick of you for a bit. When you are lucky enough to live in what you consider your favorite place on the planet, it does not change the fact that you live there.

but at least Dr. Norman makes the dentist visits fun

but at least Dr. Norman makes the dentist visits fun

Life has certain inescapable daily responsibilities: work, appointments, errands, children, etc. So when you move in down the street from some gorgeous museum or fantastic restaurant and you think, ‘I will go there every week,’ it says something when you realize you have been to said museum/restaurant once, if at all, in the past several years.

I'm talking to you Pearl Oyster Bar...15 years and I still haven't had the chance to visit you.  pearloysterbar.com

I’m talking to you Pearl Oyster Bar…15 years and I still haven’t had the chance to visit you. pearloysterbar.com

When you realize all you really do at the end of a day is lie down on the floor exhausted while you eat the left over Chinese food you lazily ordered the night before, you begin to feel as though you might appreciate that beautiful museum and fantastic restaurant more if you could just come to visit New York City one day.

wouldn't it be fun to go to New York and ride the subway?

wouldn’t it be fun to go to New York and ride the subway?

Absence does make the heart grow fonder, New York, and now that you have been set in relief for the last 3 months I can take this opportunity to romanticize the idea of you again.

our friend T's fully stocked bar helped also...

our friend T’s fully stocked bar helped the romanticizing process begin…

But what I discovered during this week long visit to NYC was something very different than what I had expected to find. Yes, I miss Fairway (a dream of a grocery store, if they would just let me live in a storage closet there, I would leave my family to do so), I miss a good plop down in Sheep Meadow with the Sunday Times (although, I’ve missed that since G was born), and yes, I even miss the potentially frustrating hustley bustley way of life.

why can I not find a cab?  why are there just no cabs?

why can I not find a cab? it’s my hairdo isn’t it?

But what I miss the most are our people, our fabulous friends who we have known for years, who we’ve watched grow and change, who have cheered for us when we’ve reached

who else but n'Uncle Peter is going to lend you the very same Yankees jacket he wore when he was 5?

who else but n’Uncle Peter is going to lend you the very same Yankees jacket he wore when he was 5?

huge milestones, and who have scooped us up when we’ve hit dicier times.  Modern technology does provide the reassurance   our nearest and dearest are always a click or two away, but it’s really no substitute for that spontaneous coffee or that walk around the block when you just need someone’s ear or they need yours.  You know what I’m talking about.

So, when we went to New York City for just one week we planned all sorts of touristy adventures, but instead we ditched all those plans and broke bread every day with people we love.  That is what makes it hard to leave you New York. I’m sure Sydney has its charms, but I know it does not have our people.

The next post contains all the photos of dinner with friends and will be password protected by order of the Queen to protect the innocent…or something like that.  If you forgot the password you can use the form below to email me.  There are some goodies in there.

Eat Up Charleston

So of course, Emily, our foodie friend, once again bestowed a list on us for treats to be sure to get into your belly if you ever find yourself down in Charleston.  FAIR WARNING:  Nothing is low calorie here.  Nothing.  Not one thing.  So good luck with that.
oysters at The Ordinary

oysters at The Ordinary

See Emily’s words below with a few of my notes in bold:

Husk – Famous chef (Sean Brock) who is using nothing but local ingredients, right down to the chocolate and flour… He had a huge profile piece in the New Yorker. It’s the place to go in Charleston. Go there for lunch, brunch or dinner.  It’s in an old Victorian home in the historic district and is utterly charming. And the food is delicious.

Of course I took for granted that it is the best place in town and was never able to get a table.  Meow.

Cypress – Where Husk is old school, this place is modern. Very cool restaurant conveniently located in town. I recommend getting the patty melt. It’s a burger sandwich type thing that’s totally addictive. Oh my goodness so good. Rich and filling. Best to share. Of course there are a hundred other things on the menu that are winners too.

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she wasn’t lying!

WildFlour Pastry for sticky buns on Sundays! They are out of control. Go early, people literally line up for them. The woman who runs this place, Lauren Mitterer, is awesome and usually covered in flour and butter.  It’s tiny and they have yummy pastries and pot de crèmes, key lime pies, but the sticky buns – on Sundays only — are to die for.

You could actually die from them if you had one every Sunday.  But boy oh boy are they good.   

Sugar Bakeshop– charming, wonderful wonderful bakery for cookies, cupcakes, etc. Even little mini bite-size tarts that are fantastic. Everything inside this tiny space feels like you’ve stepped back in time. From the glass cookie jars to the old apothecary cases filled with treats. In a residential neighborhood, run by two fun guys (an architect from NY and his partner who is originally from Charleston).

Hominy Grill – fantastic place (near Sugar Bakeshop) for all that southern food – shrimp, grits, amazing biscuits, etc. It’s a lovely fun place to go for breakfast or lunch. Yum!

Are you kidding?  Tomato pudding.  That’s all I need to say, plus they are really kid friendly.

Peninsula Grill for a slice of Coconut Cake. They are famous famous famous for their utterly decadent Coconut Cake. And if you are downtown, it’s walking distance from everywhere.

If you are looking for old school cocktails (read: they take 5-10 minutes to concoct your cocktail, right down to the perfect ice cube) try the Gin Joint. On the same street as Cypress.

If you have time and a car, try heading out to Bowens Island (they open at 5pm) for the ultimate seafood shack experience. Super fun!

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The Ordinary under a full moon.

NOOOO!!!  They are closed on Sundays so we missed this spot too.  It’s well worth planning ahead when you dine out in this town, it’s small so places fill up fast.  

But not to be defeated we found a new spot called The Ordinary where we indulged in all kinds of expertly prepared seafood and fresh oysters.  The space opened in 2012 and is in my favorite phase of a restaurant—the extra hospitable phase.  

The beautiful, open space was full so we sat at the oyster bar where you can see inside the kitchen to watch the chef and staff at work, a very methodic ballet.  

Chef Mike Lata spotted G at the bar and asked us if he’d like a little something special which his young son enjoys.  He brought out amazing, smokey baked beans and mashed potatoes you could frost a cake with.  It was a terrific experience.

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The chef sending G out in a mashed potato induced coma.

This is the South

We spent our time in Charlotte, North Carolina in constant deliberation as to whether or not we should take G to Urgent Care for a persistent, week long fever of 104 (!!!).  BUT—we were able to visit a playground to see this ladybug…

IMG_0075the Discovery Place to see this octopus…

IMG_0181and Michael was even able to get this killer shot of G while he peeked into a mini aquarium…

IMG_0172Sorry Charlotte. That’s all we had time for.  We hear you have a lovely NASCAR museum. Maybe next time.

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A drinking fountain in the historic battery

But then we were off to Charleston, South Carolina (where of course I got sick—but are Moms really allowed to be sick? No…not really).

Charleston. Oh Charleston. Of all the towns we’ve visited in the United States, Charleston has thrilled me the most. This is not just because I am sort of an old fogey who signs her name like she just signed the Declaration of Independence, but because it took me by surprise. I paid attention to boys in high school when I should have paid attention to my history teacher, so I was shocked to learn that Charleston is steeped not only in Civil War history, but in Revolutionary War history as well. It rivals Boston, New Orleans and even New York City for its beautifully preserved, historic architecture.

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Rainbow Row-a section of restored homes

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I tried to convince M to forget about us and instead to focus on the tiny alley behind us.  It was once an original street

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When you walk down these alleyways you find hidden, perfectly preserved houses from the 1700s.

I wish I had the time to write a fully detailed post about the many incredible sights, but alas…not only do I not, we also didn’t have the opportunity to explore nearly as much as we would have liked. It is definitely a spot Michael and I decided we would visit for a long weekend again one day when we can take the proper tourist horse and buggy ride.

Of course, not only is Charleston full to the brim with history, it is also full of incredible food…most of it sweet.  In fact, one hot afternoon I ordered mint iced tea from a man who asked if I wanted sweetened or unsweetened.

‘How sweet is sweet?’  I asked.

‘This is the south,’ he said.

The Wrong Direction

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In addition to visiting the Home of Ralphy while we were in Cleveland, we also made it to the Great Lakes Science Center (and had a fabulous dinner with my Great Aunt, her son and his wife at The Greenhouse Tavern).

The Science Center holds many a joy for the young at heart, including a room full of rubber balls Michael was able to snap a few existential shots of:

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There was also an Egyptian exhibit, replete with mysterious activities such as Archeological Digs…

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Pyramid Building…

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and faux Camel Back Riding…

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And while I love the above photo almost more than life itself, you can imagine my surprise (horror/dismay) when my One Direction obsessed girlfriend sent me a photo of the One Direction bandmate doll someone just gave her 7 year old daughter.

one-direction-dolls

Now who gave this kid a copy of Ines de la Fressange‘s Parisian Chic?  Fess up!

Next we hit The Carolinas…

A Major Award

IMG_9934“It’s a blue ball!  It’s a bowling ball.”

In my family you will hear this phrase often muttered around Christmas time, as it’s one of our favorite quotes from the movie, A Christmas Story.  And while my husband makes fun of me in front of my back for my love of that film, I was not ashamed to visit the very house where it was shot.  The house is, in fact, in Cleveland, Ohio and has been made into a museum.  We, as it were, were also in Cleveland, Ohio.  So…why not??

We saw the Fra-gee-lay box—

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G hid under the same sink Randy hid under (look closely)—

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He also typed up a quick letter on the very typewriter Ralphie used to write his Christmas Theme (in Michael’s glasses)—

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We even got our photo taken with the Old Man’s Major Award—

IMG_9952This provides me with the perfect segue to discuss my major award—The Super Sweet Blogger Award.

Allow me to explain…

Awards fly around the blogosphere, there are Versatile Awards, Inspiring Awards, Blog of the Year Awards, etc.  I don’t really know where they originate, but I do know, they are bestowed onto bloggers by other bloggers.

They come with different rules (that everyone likes to break).  Some people ignore awards completely, some display them proudly, some answer the questions that come with the awards and some don’t.

What I LOVE about them is once a blog has been awarded, they then have to pay it forward by awarding other blogs.   This  gives readers the opportunity to learn about blogs they may not have stumbled upon otherwise.

super-sweet-blogging-award21w6451So, with all that being said, let me thank Diary of a House Elf -who has a really sweet, feel good, joie de vivre blog.  It is so nice to receive what she calls a virtual high five. I write my blog toward the audience of my family, so to get a virtual high five from a non-family member is a very nice treat indeed.  It’s like my husband’s friend Devin always says, ‘It’s nice when you tell your wife she looks good, but it’s even better when she hears it from someone else.’

So here are the rules (and how I will break them):

The questions I am supposed to answer have to do with sweets.  I will sum them up by answering YES.  Sugar=YES for me, no matter how much I try to have it =NO.

I’m also supposed to bestow the award to a baker’s dozen of blogs.  (Impossible.  There are too many to choose from.)  In doing this, I’m going to bend the rules just a little and share a reading list of blogs that I know may not participate in awards, or may have received a dozen already.

These blogs continually inspire—so I want to toss them a virtual high five.

1. Food—>Flora’s Table

2. Food/France—>My French Heaven

3. France/Fun—>People, Places and Bling!

4. Fun—>The Sofi’s World

a taste of The Sofis World

a taste of The Sofis World

5. Fashion—>Who’s That Girl?

6. Do It Yourself Envy—>Kate’s Creative Space

7. Parenting/Tech—>iGameMom

8. Parenting/Expat—>Wine and Cheese Doodles

9. Travel—>Gallivance

10. Travel/Photography—>The Great American Landscape

11. NYC/Interiors—>An Afternoon With

12. NYC/History—>Ephemeral NY

13. Stories From a Young Med Student (that will make you weep and force you to not take a second of your life for granted)—>Mullberry Whine

I’ve notified these bloggers by PingBack, a little rule breaking trick I picked up from Diary of a House Elf!  If you do choose to participate, you can find the full list of rules and questions on her site, by clicking here.

Thanks again.  Enjoy.

Pittsburgh in January

The Benedum Center in Pittsburgh where Les Mis played.  Beautiful right?

The Benedum Center in Pittsburgh where Les Mis played. Beautiful right?

Oooooops…I published this post yesterday by accident…unfinished!  Gulp.  Let me try again—
So what do you do in Pittsburgh for 2 weeks in the middle of January? Honestly I thought we were doomed. It would be cold and gray and industrial and dreary. I knew the whole Heinz ketchup situation started in Pittsburgh, but I wasn’t in the mood for any more John Kerry factoids in my life. When I bemoaned this fact over dinner one night in Philadelphia, my very brilliant and optimistic Uncle said to me, “Don’t be fooled. All the culture of Pennsylvania is not contained in Philadelphia.”

He said it in a way that sounded like a challenge. It made me feel sort of competitive, sort of sporting, I swiftly became determined to seek out all the culture I could find in Pittsburgh that did not involve ketchup. The results did more than just keep our seasonal affects disorder at bay, it actually moved Pittsburgh up to the top of the list of places I think we should visit again.

Watch the REAL trains go by outside your hotel room window.

We watched REAL, live trains go by outside our hotel room window.

Learn about electricity at the Pittsburgh Children's Museum

 At the Children’s Museum of Pittsburgh we learned about electricity…

Go to a bouncy house with Briana---Pittsburgh Children's Museum

… & bouncy housed with Briana.

We visited the first famous Pittsburgh Andy Museum---Warhol

One of Pittsburgh’s famous Andys is Warhol…

We chased helium balloons at the Andy Warhol museum

…& it can only be in his museum that you can go into a room with nothing but mylar balloons.

The Aviary got us up close to Bald Eagles...

The Aviary got us up close to Bald Eagles…

...penguins...

…penguins…

photo by Ron Reznick

& an adorable Kookaburra (photo by Ron Reznick)

While I didn’t get a shot of him…I did get a recording of his fantastic call— cuckamp3

Pittsburgh's other famous Andy is Carnegie

Pittsburgh’s other famous Andy is Carnegie.  At his museum we met R2D2—Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi…

Play GIANT Operation---Carnegie Science Center

…& played GIANT Operation…

but the best thing there was the miniature model of the city...

but the best thing there was a miniature model of the city…

...and its electric train...

…and its electric train…THOMAS!

Michael took so many great shots...

Michael took so many great shots…

I have to share them all...

I have to share them all…

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Frank Lloyd Wright’s house—Fallingwater

every 15 minutes it would become night night and the city would light up

Every 15 minutes it would become night and the miniature city would light up

IMG_8664Our next stop was Kalamazoo

For the Record

ifcfilms.com

ifcfilms.com

The fantastic blogger Azita over at Fig & Quince, reminded me about the documentary film on the Barnes titled, The Art of the Steal.  My hairdresser that day in Philly told me I should watch it as well and it completely slipped my mind.  We watched it last night (it streams on Netflix) and according to this film, what actually went down over there at the Barnes makes me feel like my post about his art was a bit glib.  Well, I mean, obviously it was glib, but the seriousness and seediness of the saga is fascinating and paints an oily film over Philly and politics and organized philanthropy in general.

But…it’s also difficult to take sides or make any sort of judgement since the story is really a tale as old as time.  It’s about greed, money, resentment, envy and ultimately power; a Greek and Shakespearean Tragedy steeped in irony.  Just ultimately…human.  Watch the film when you can.  In the meantime, the story from my hairdresser is reprinted below—with corrections in bold.

This man named Dr. Barnes had a tough life, grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in Philly, etcetera.  He made his fortune by inventing acetaminophen? Maybe?  Something like that a drug to treat gonorrhea.  In the era of Gertrude Stein, at the height of French ImpressionismImpressionism, Post Impressionism & Modern, he had a lot of money from selling his company and decided to collect art…a lot of art…30 billion dollars worth of art…maybe less.  I can’t remember.  He sequestered it away in a museum he built specifically around the collection, just outside of Philadelphia.  In fact, the building was SO specific it was actually built around a painting, I believe by Manet Matisse. However, Barnes decided he would only make this collection accessible to childrenstudents who attended a specific schoolthe art school he made out of the collection, it was not to be viewed by the public.  And MOST importantly he did not want the art to fall into the hands of the Philadelphia art world…he didn’t want a commercial value placed on it.

Dr. Barnes---karenfriedland.wordpress.com

Dr. Barnes—karenfriedland.wordpress.com

“Why?” Michael interrupted.

I guess he thought they were all a lot of uppity so and so’s.  Oh…and there was also something about Annenberg.  They got into an argument one night. I think Barnes continually told Annenberg he shouldn’t be so snooty because everyone knew his grandfather father made all of his money in the mafia.  Apparently This was common knowledge, Annenberg Sr. had been in jail for tax evasion, but Annenberg, I guess, had the same sense of humor as maybe someone like…Tom Cruise.  Right?  You know what I mean, right?  No sense of humor…especially about anything related to his own shortcomings.  So Annenberg & Barnes never spoke again, and tried to take each other down in various ways whenever they had the opportunity.

“Soooo…”

Oo Oo Oo!  Wait!  So when Barnes died at age 78 in a car crash…he had no heirs and a will that stated 2 things:

The first was that this art is for this nice school was to be continued to be used for the school.  And it was for about 40 years after Dr. Barnes died.  A teacher ran the institution exactly as Barnes wished until she died.  Then it went to Lincoln University, a very small university with a primarily African American student body.  The Philly Art Museum and Penn were dissed, purposefully.  You just have the watch the film to see what happened next.  It’s a great big hubris filled messfest, mostly involving this guy…

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 But of course, over time,  the school couldn’t afford to take care of the art, so Eventually the state of Pennsylvania Philadelphia said, ‘Hey!  Lincoln University, how would you like 50 million dollars (a fortune to a school that size)?  We’ll give you the money if you give us the art.’  Uh-huh.  This is how the will was broken so the public was able to view the art.
The second stipulation of the will was that the art must NEVER, EVER, EVER be moved into the city of Philadelphia.

“But wait, I thought the Barnes Museum was in Philladelphia?”

It is!  Dr. Messite attended the opening of the new space in Philly just last year.  And guess who’s primarily responsible for breaking the will and funding the move?  The Annenberg Foundation, even!  (…along with the Pew Charitable Trust and the Mayor of Philly.)

So, my hairdresser is boycotting the museum.

How I Knew Things Before Google

I promise you I will not continually post 3 times a week.  I just need to get caught up.   Philly was AGES ago!!

logo

“I just got some serious scoop from the hairdresser I saw,” I said to Michael as I came back into the hotel room.

“Ok…?”

“Well, I just mentioned to him, I wanted to visit a few museums while we were here in Philly and he raised one eyebrow at me…and then sort of asked me out of the side of his mouth (I tried to recreate the effect as I explained)…if I planned to go to the Barnes Museum.  He made me so nervous I just said no.”

“Why?  Isn’t that the one Dr. Messite told us we had to visit?”

Dr. Messite is our hilarious and elegantly old school dentist.  We love him so much, he attended our wedding.  He also has a voice similar to Snagglepuss from the old Hanna-Barbera cartoons, but don’t tell him I said so.

Elizabeth you must go to the Barnes Museum when you’re in Philadelphia.  Marilyn and I drove down for the opening and it’s just magnificent, splendiferous even.

“So what’s the story?” Michael asked, bringing me back into the room.

“Well, bear in mind I have obviously not fact checked or google searched any of this, plus I don’t think I can recall all of it accurately so, this is strictly salon gossip,”  I paused, “you know I just heard your eyes roll even though I didn’t see them.”

“What’s the story?”

“Ok, this is pretty much what the hair dresser told me…

This man named Barnes had a tough life, grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, etcetera.  He made his fortune by inventing acetaminophen? Maybe?  Something like that.  In the era of Gertrude Stein, at the height of French Impressionism he had a lot of money and decided to collect art…a lot of art…30 billion dollars worth of art…maybe less.  I can’t remember.  He sequestered it away in a museum he built specifically around the collection, just outside of Philadelphia.  In fact, the building was SO specific it was actually built around a painting, I believe by Manet.  However, Barnes decided he would only make this collection accessible to children who attended a specific school, it was not to be viewed by the public.  And MOST importantly he did not want the art to fall into the hands of the Philadelphia art world…

“Why?” Michael interrupted.

nytimes.com  A Picasso from his blue period...

nytimes.com–A Picasso from his blue period…

I guess he thought they were all a lot of uppity so and so’s.  Oh…and there was also something about Annenberg.  They got into an argument one night. I think Barnes told Annenberg he shouldn’t be so snooty because everyone knew his grandfather made all of his money in the mafia.  Apparently this was common knowledge, but Annenberg, I guess, had the same sense of humor as maybe someone like…Tom Cruise.  Right?  You know what I mean, right?  No sense of humor…especially about anything related to his own shortcomings.  So Annenberg & Barnes never spoke again.

“Soooo…”

van Gogh's Postmanwikipedia.org

wikipedia.org–van Gogh’s Postman

Oo Oo Oo!  Wait!  So when Barnes died…he had no heirs and a will that stated 2 things:

The first was that this art is for this nice school.  But of course, over time,  the school couldn’t afford to take care of the art, so the state of Pennsylvania said, ‘Hey!  We’ll give you the money if you give us the art.’  Uh-huh.  This is how the will was broken so the public was able to view the art.

The second stipulation of the will was that the art must NEVER, EVER, EVER be moved into the city of Philadelphia.

“But wait, I thought the Barnes Museum was in Philladelphia?”

vanityfair.com

vanityfair.com

It is!  Dr. Messite attended the opening of the new space in Philly just last year.  And guess who’s primarily responsible for breaking the will and funding the move?  The Annenberg Foundation, even!  So, my hairdresser is boycotting the museum.

“Are we?”

No WAY!  I booked tickets on my walk back to the hotel.

For more in-depth (correct) information on the Barnes click here.

While I’m very sorry Mr. Barnes’ final wishes were not honored, I am very glad I was able to view so many fabulous paintings displayed so meaningfully.  It was an unforgettable experience however it came to be.

Photographs were strictly prohibited inside the museum.  For a lovely slide show from the NYTimes click here.

Our next stop was Pittsburgh.

Give Me Liberty (or donuts)

not Independence Hall...

this is not Independence Hall

Man were we lazy in Philadelphia.  I almost skipped writing about it all together, because we didn’t even make it to the Liberty Bell, let alone Independence Hall.  We didn’t even make it to the Philadelphia Museum of Art to get a shot of G running up those famous steps like  Rocky.

We just ate donuts.

I’m so embarrassed.

But I do feel it’s my patriotic duty to confess our shortcomings and move on, since our foodie friend Emily went out of her way to send us quite a comprehensive list of some of the best spots to eat in this charming town.  If you find yourself here anytime soon, please utilize Emily’s fabulous list, she knows of what she speaks.

Her words below (with a few of my comments in italics):

DINNER
I love any and all of Marc Vetri’s restaurants for amazing Italian dinners — hand made pastas, pizzas and other beautifully made Italian dishes and great Italian wine:
 
Osteria, is the place of his that I always go to when I am in town. It’s just divine. Not too fancy. G would be welcome.
(We did actually go here for my birthday and I ate suckling pig and it was remarkable…if that’s your thing.)
He also has Amis, which is more trattoria style, so just a hair more casual.
And then there’s Vetri, which is high end amazing, and kind of a romantic anniversary dinner date place. In an old cozy town house. One of the top places in the country. You’ll spend a lot of money and it’s a fixed menu.
Zahav – you must go there (I didn’t). Fresh baked Laffa bread, hummus, and lots more. The chef is inspired.
Amada – Spanish tapas. Chef is Jose Garces, who is an Iron Chef and has a bunch of lovely restaurants in town.
garcesgroup.com

garcesgroup.com

Fork – suggested by my friend who is a Philly native foodie.
BURGERS
Village Whiskey – gets crowded at lunchtime. Old fashioned masculine place with a long bar and booths. Huge delicious build-your-own burgers and other yummy sides and snacks. And a huge whiskey menu.
(We did go here.  A charming, tiny place with charming staff.  They only had room for me to stand at a marble bar to eat lunch, but they let G sit on the bar in a window nook.  He was thrilled.  The burgers were delicious, the fries were made with duck fat, plus they pickle  everything—and if you watch Portlandia that will make you giggle.)
villagewhiskey.com

villagewhiskey.com

SANDWICHES
DiNics: famous, in Reading Terminal, which you must visit anyway, because there are lots of places to eat and lots of stalls to shop for trinkets and kitchen supplies and chocolates.
(Did not make it to DiNics, but the Reading Terminal is a must.  It’s like a food and trinkit bazaar.  Great for little ones to run through.)
GUTBUSTERS:
Tony Luke’s – My personal favorite Philly cheesesteak.
Sweet Elizabeth’s. For wonderful cupcakes. Of course!
Federal Donuts –  they make Coffee, Fried Chicken and Donuts.
(and all we needed was for this place to be around the corner from our hotel room to simply do us in…)
federaldonuts.com

federaldonuts.com

If you’re heading to Chicago any time soon, be sure to check out the Cheezeborger, Cheezeborger post for some more of Emily’s (and Dad’s) inspired food recommendations.

Free Bird

“Hiiiiiii!” my step mother answered in an excitedly upbeat tone, “were you watching?”

“Oh no,” I replied, “watching what?”

“Well, I know you don’t watch Glee anymore, but I thought you might be watching because Rachel and Kurt had a sing off and they just sang a beautiful rendition of Bring Him Home from Les Miz.”

My step mother knows everything there is to know about anything my husband or any of my husband’s friends have worked on. She’s the one who informs me when someone we know is in a commercial, or in a magazine or on the Today show.  I’d be lost without her.  In fact, I don’t even know the song Bring Him Home and my husband has been the Resident Director of Les Miz for almost a year and a half now.

“Oh, I’ll be sure to google it,” I replied, “they both have such gorgeous voices, but I’m actually calling to let Dad know that my grandma died.”

“Oh no!!  Oh no!” she said, “oh, hold on I’ll go get him.”

My mother’s mother was 90.  She had Parkinson’s disease and was as frail as a tiny bird when I took my son to see her last week.  It was difficult for her to speak, but her mind was never more sharp.  She still read a book a day and typed me lengthy emails on her iPad filled with parenting wisdom.

IMG_8806She was also an avid reader of this blog.  In fact, she and my other grandma (who is 93) are the reasons I began a blog in the first place.  They both put in the effort to keep up with modern technology, so I put in the effort to make it worth their while.  No technical obstacle is insurmountable when you know photos of your only great grandson lie on the other side.

“Oh wait…you know what?” I called out to my stepmom,  “Michael’s calling me.  I just sent him a text a few minutes ago with the news.  Can you tell Dad I’ll call him right back?”

“Hi sweetie,” I said as I clicked over.

“Hi kid.  How are you?”

“Oh I’m fine, I’m fine. We knew this was coming, I just feel so lucky we made it up there last week.  I’m just so glad she waited for us.”

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I only see my grandma once a year since she and my grandfather decided to retire and live full time at their lake house in Northern Michigan. I think perhaps only Siberia is more difficult to get to, but it just so happened that Les Miz played in Kalamazoo, MI last week.  I was able to rent a car and drive the 4 hours north with G and my fabulous aunt (my Dad’s sister), who volunteered to keep me company. Due to fierce January weather we were only able to stay less than 24 hours or be trapped in a blizzard for a week.

The little guy was afraid of his Great-Grandmother at first, which left her completely unfazed.  She ordered me to have him run up and down the stairs, an assignment that left me nonplussed until I realized her bed was angled in such a way, she could watch him climb.  While her body continually twitched and spasmed due to the effects of her illness, her eagle eyes never left that little boy.  After some time he began to warm up and gingerly closed the distance between them.  He started at the foot of her bed where he hid and  then jumped out to say, BOO!  Then he gave her knuckles.  Next he held her hand.  Then a hug.  Then a kiss.  Her grins expanded in direct proportion to his proximity.

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She died exactly a week after we left.

“I’m sorry it took me a minute to call you back,” Michael said, “I was watching the show when I got your text, I looked down and read Gma died at 830 just as Peter (the actor who plays the lead in Les Miz) began to sing Bring Him Home.  I just had to listen to the whole song.”

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