IT had been too long. Me and New York. We go way back. It isnt exactly home, but it is a primary place in my life. Childhood summer visits growing up, summer camp, college, graduate school and my very first official jobs.
I still remember the first time I was in Manhattan, especially the subway and Central Park and the zoo. The height of the train, going over the bridge, sitting on a bench at the park among the leafiness and the chaotic noisiness, oh, the aliveness! I fell in love. And I somehow just knew, then and there, that one day I will live in this city. And so it was.
But as the years went by, other competing dreams and desires pulled, and I left New York. For a long time. Then I was back again, for a rich two years, getting reconnected and reacquainted, but as it turned out, just fleetingly. New York is and always will be a primary place for me; I see at this point that it is now a primary place for visiting rather than living.
WITHIN my first minutes back in that lively island of color, I saw someone avoid the stairs and instead shimmy down a medal banister to the subway and squeeze himself between the sliding doors of the Number One train going up town just in the nick of time. I found apricot hued rose petals scattered on a sidewalk, and I spied a tip of Le Carrousel in the Parisian charm of Bryant Park. I caught a note or two of the French cabaret music, too. I also had a perfectly blended, slightly bitter, Italian piccolo, with the most adorable latte art on it. It was a perfect milky-foamy heart.
I visited old haunts and pilgrimages, and went to places I had never been. I saw three mice(!). Well, my friend insists it was two, and he pretends the third was a snufalufagus houdini mouse I think I saw, but I know better. Listen, he lives there in the charming grime, so I understand if he needs to be in denial about the third one. But when his head was already turned toward descending the stairs of his apartment building, I saw the furriness whiz by against the wall in that humidity. And I know what I know!
I got caught in the most exhilarating, thick and strong rainstorm. I had never been in a monsoon, but this was as close as it can probably get. The storm came out of nowhere. Nowhere! I was just walking along, rushing to get to the city for Shabbat, when BOOM! Just like that, the skies opened. Everything turned dark. With a single deafening and roaring clap of thunder and flash of light it all started. You couldnt hear a sound but the sound of the rain. Even all the usual honking and taxis totally drowned out.
I had to walk through it like a wall. Oh, it was amazing. I was caught in a soaking-wet light-and-sound show and I just loved it. With zero rain gear on me, I just embraced it. It felt incredible. I practically had to shout the blessing for thunder and lightening. Oh, it was a joy.
When 10 or 15 minutes later it stopped as fast as it began, I was almost sad. I mean this was one heck of a shower. I felt washed over. Something felt almost liberating about it. When it was all over, in a blink, the night was as clear and calm as if I had almost imagined the whole storm.
I MET up with a lot of my New York friends. We took strolls through Central Park and my old neighborhood, the Upper West Side. We visited the glorious markets at which I found the most fragrant, the most adorable strawberries you will ever see. Some were so tiny that when I placed one of them in a soda bottle cap it had room to rest and almost be swaddled. Yes, that small! Small, but perfect.
I savored the summer light, the red watermelon halfmoons and triangles, the plump and juicy corn on the cob, the cluttered beat of New York that gives it such a pulse and rhythm. The shimmering New York afternoons of heat rising from the sidewalks. And those blazing sunsets that light the sky and bathe the whole steaming city.
I paid a visit to my lions, the famous marble pair of Patience and Fortitude, at the New York Public Library. I saw the Picasso exhibit and the teapot exhibit at The Met.
And I discovered a secret aerial spot with the most breathtaking view of New York City, especially of Central Park. I wanted to see Mary Poppins on Broadway, but that will have to be something to look forward to the next time. Plus the beach. I am saving that, too.
I found the greatest little hole-in-the-wall one night after a long and sweaty day. With the appetite of a weary traveler, I walked right into Soom Soom and had the best version of a sabich sandwich you will ever taste.
And this coming from me, a mighty loyal falafaler. It was messy, boy was it messy! But this sabich? You will be bowled over! Fluffy pita, smooth hummus, melty paper thin rounds of fried golden eggplant, creamy rounds of dark hard boiled eggs, thick and spicey potato slices with marinated purple cabbage salad, crunchy celery and cilantro salad, spiced preserved Moroccan lemons and cilantro jalapeno harissa on top. Are you ready for this? It melts like butter in your mouth, with the blend of flavors and textures of creamy, crunchy and saucy. You will swoon! Oh, and you have to wash it down with the limonana. Of course.
I went back the next night with a friend and ordered the sabich, again. And then I found the best kosher kishka on the very same block. New York, Im telling you . . . something new and exciting and fun and unexpected is always around the corner. Even if it is a kishka.
Copyright © 2010 by the Intermountain Jewish News
