Actually, I wanted to share an article by my friend Dr. Arline who has nothing but your best interests for a quieter and more peaceful environment.
It appears that New Yorkers have learned patience from the pandemic.
Those alternate side of the street sits are being handled with more grace and poise. Of course all the devices we own and use help. One parker had her dog at the curbside and a tablet with a board game. (Wonder if her dog plays chess.) Another waited with a newspaper and ear buds. Time appeared to be suspended for them.
Incidentally, grooming is coming back along with the mask-free look. Actually, hair and beards have been trim and neat for sometime now. There was the initial shock of the pandemic when men’s facial hair was a reflection of the chaos we all felt but then the barbers got busy.
My travels on the coffee trail took me to the 7-11 to try out the Brazilian I spoke of recently.
Picture this with me: if my walking the coffee trail entails following the little brown beans strewn along the path to help me find my destination.
I imagine this path is a bit slippery as we crunch along, grinding coffee beans underfoot. Or it is perhaps a bit more slidey if the coffee is already ground and catches to the soles of our shoes.
Sorry for the digression or should I say detour. Back to the coffee mission in which we follow-up on the promise of checking out the selections at 7-11.
7-11 cleverly arranges small, medium, large and what Starbucks calls “Venti Hot” cups with little increment in cost. They also require you self-serve which makes for a more personalized cup.
This participatory experience also means you get much quicker service. I chose the medium size cup, and truth be told, had a delay in the process due to indecisiveness.
To be fair, there are many coffees on display. 7-11 has installed some fancy machines that offer to make cappuccino, latte or other fancier caffeinated drinks. I would say stay away from these.
After hemming and hawing over the vast choices, I settled where I started. A 16-oz (I think) cup of Brazilian to which I added a splash of half and half was a delicious $2.29. The fellas with the street carts sell these for $1.75 but elsewhere the price is closer.
Price is not the only criteria, of course, so factor in convenience and taste. While I loathe the Seattle-brewer, I think Dunkin provides an excellent alternative.
Specialty coffees, in my opinion, should be specially made so head for a neighborhood brewery like our Le Moulin a Café.
Speaking of specialties, I am enjoying a cold Mocha brew from a new joint called B&B. It’s on 1st and 73rd and its actual specialty is bagels, I imagine. Never had one of these before so too sweet should cover it.
I can’t guarantee that my story will clarify anything but I must try.
Some nearly 50 years ago I was settling into a sweet apartment in an old New York walk-up. I wandered into the bedroom. I immediately sensed a presence.
Now, I am not especially susceptible to the spiritual. In fact, I have a level-headed appreciation for the rational. I have alwsys endeavored, however, to be open-minded. I was even more so in those days.
I hedge my bets against a greater power by labeling myself an agnostic. Who knows? There may well have been a specter inhabiting 5A. He (and his gender was determined) walked about as I turned on the floor lamp.
I spoke aloud to my cohabitant, asking him to enjoy our mutual space. I also suggested that I would not interfere with his activities as long as he left me to my own.
After this, no flickering light would ever disturb me again.
He did not reappear. But his proximity on that first night was palpable. We met and remained friendly at a distance.
In the next 40 years, I modernized the space to suit me. My phantasma voiced no objection.
I mentioned him to noone. My discretion was rewarded as my friend never troubled me during the long length of my tenancy.
The headlines focused attention on the owners of The Post, who, having been thwarted in their proposed demolition of the block-wide development, were looking to sell.
Wondering why buyers stayed away from the Kalikow deal for City and Suburban, my friend JH thought perhaps the property was haunted.
I said “there are always ghosts, my dear.”
Ghosts, however, do not deter developers. The plaque designating the entire property from nose to tail a landmark did.
National Historic Landmark status is an honor (and a burden to owners) that has extended to some 2600 sites. It forbids anyone from making substantive changes to buildings under its umbrella.
New York City’s federally landmarked properties include many you would think of off the top of your head. It also encompasses some that might surprise.
Macy’s and Cooper Union are on the list. I am wondering how the designation has affected Tiffany’s plans for expansion. Since I haven’t walked this route for a while so I don’t know what has become of the Soho Cast Iron District. I can’t believe the area hasn’t circumvented the intent of landmark selection.
There’s a lot of new-fangled equipment at my local playground. I was impressed by the nimble little girl making her way down from the top. These things are challenging. I don’t know that I would have made the climb when I was little.
Workplace humor is fodder for sit-coms. I am joined by a jocular team of workmen over my morning smoothie. They tell jokes about their co-workers which only a union member would get. It’s their rollicking laughter that carries the room. A little standup in the a.m. and when they’re gone it’s so very quiet.
Never really cared for Red Delicious or Macintosh but there’s a place for all kinds!
Arguably it’s summer that yields the best fruit, what with an abundance of peaches or nectarines. Plums and cherries are also a sweet treat this time of year.
However, as we head into the autumn, we should reserve some appreciation for the apple.
It played a huge role in man’s downfall, for those of you biblically inclined. Let’s not remember apples only in that limited context.
An apple provides sustenance along the lines of the potato and should you need reminding the latter is an amazingly nourishing food.
Apples come in a range of remarkably diverse varieties. Braeburns and honeycrisps are among my favorites. I had a deep love for the sour-sweet Granny Smith once upon a time too.
Texture is as important as taste in a good apple, but whether you care for a soft or a firm-fleshed one is strictly your choice. For me, the apple du jour goes a bit with the mood.
The supermarket offers some types but to truly tune into the diversity of the apple kingdom you need to visit a farmer’s market. There you’ll find some fantastic choices. Cloning apples seems to be a cottage industry of some standing.
I find the origin stories of the apples to be very appealing. That’s a touch of color many green market vendors like to post.
*In our very French-ified neighborhood, this place is a good place to find what you’re looking for.
In conversation with our doorman, Mike, I was reminded to start my next coffee search with a trip to 7-11. There are a couple near by where I find the chicken wings hard to resist, but I hadn’t been getting my coffee there. As I recall, I always loved it.
It’s a fraction of the other chains’ price too. Not where you’ll go for a latte, macchiato or cappucino, but the simple clean mild or strong cup is here. The Brazillian was a favorite of mine but choose or sample the roasts for your best morning java.
My expertise on peaches 🍑 was tested this morning at the display. A shopper was feeling frustrated by the choices and asked me how long til they would be ripe. She noted they were hard. I lectured her a bit. Hard, yes, I said but if they had any give they would be firm and juicy. I gave her the brown paper bag option if she wanted them softer but reiterated my opinion that they were just great. On sale for $3.99 with a D’Ag card right now.
Let me alert you that peach 🍑 season is coming to its inevitable close. We can enjoy them while they last and then hope luscious ones cycle through again next summer.
A public place for reflection awaits you in the midst of Broadway traffic.
The Constitution of these United States has an amendment guaranteeing our freedoms should all the other amendments fail us. Who knew? Thank James Madison for this little safeguard.
Specifically, #Madison’sNinth ensures that we, the people, are granted rights not enumerated in the Bill of Rights.
There are things I should know about human history, but honestly it is such a long history. The archeologists among us demarc that history in ages identifying, for example, the materials used. So we get a bronze age or a stone age to describe our ancestry. My failing in this regard is not having a clue which came when. I am fortunate in that my science newsletter (from CNN) specifies dates of service for each of the peoples that came before us.
Another fact that escaped me all my school years is that we are the evolutionary relatives of a broad range of hominids. I have come to find out that different members of our extended family roamed the earth at the same time, perhaps finding themselves in adjacent caves… Well perhaps not, but it’s not a clear timeline from one “brand” of humankind to the next.
Not knowing should lead us directly to knowledge as soon as we know all we don’t know.
Convoluted enough? Simply put, I have the opportunity to endeavor to learn more.
Peaches, as I know I have mentioned before, are my best summer treat. A good peach washes away a lot of troubles.
The best fruits of this summer have come from an unlikely source. I have gotten the peaches with the perfect texture, firmest flesh and excellent juice-to-bite ratio at my local D’Agastino.
Unlikely? Yes, because I malign this market every chance I get. And this time I did not get the chance. Isn’t that fabulous.
The pandemic dining scene has yielded so many creative solutions to the outdoor eatery huts. I have been very impressed.
One of my local restaurants has instead seen fit to offer this sad picnic spot. Their one concession to aesthetics has been to paint the area over. It started as a yellow area. Today it’s red. Festive? No, but it echoes a day in the park. You’re lucky you were able to snag that last table.
It’s been a fixture on this corner for lo so many years. There is another iconic site on the Westside as well. That one on 72nd and Broadway has even starred in some films.
Since Papaya King on 3rd Avenue has announced its impending closure there have been lines waiting for service. One is gathering here at 10:15 in the morning. Franks and juice drinks are flying off the griddle and out the spout these days. It wasn’t this busy before the landlord made plans to demolish.
All The Best 