I “heart” New York

New York pulses with energy & freedom.


I always get lost on the streets.

I always miss my train stop.

I always eat amazing food.

I *never* go shopping.

My recent trip started off a bit lackluster as I was nursing some open wounds.  But how lovely to retreat to such an irritable city where my mood could so easily be dismissed as “artistic” and I could lose myself in the crowd?

My sister and her fiance decided I do a damn good imitation of The Blob after my first week of complete apathy.

What do you think?


My sister tempted me off the sofa with gluttonous promises and we feasted our way through New York the second week.  I ate pheasant pate, broiled pears, sauteed shrimp, simmered escargo, duck a l’Orange, lemongrass chicken; all in a place no larger than a walk-in-closet.  The Chef cooked here.

(I didn’t crop out a single thing! Cross my heart!  It was just this small!)


…and in a drunken attempt to showcase my spanish I accidentally told him, “I love the Chef!” when what I meant to say was “I Love the Cooking!”.

Here we are. The Jackson Girls. Team Agua v. Team Vino.


We dined on arepa after arepa in a Venezulan hall tagged Caracas on the Lower East Side with people who adorned their bodies to match their souls.


Our stomachs travelled to India, Thailand, Japan, Memphis and Italy.

And yet, the coup de grace of this global gastronomic tour was…

…drum roll please…

BLUEBERRY PANCAKES at Clinton St. Bakery!

Created by Goddess herself, these pancakes are clouds of heavenly yumminess.



Beyond tastebud delights, I entertained my brother-in-law until the wee-hours of the morning while my sister worked the midnight shift at her hospital.  This is us at about 5am, sufficiently “happy” at some Dominican club on the upper west side.


And at Summer Stage – a free concert series in Central Park – where I swayed my hips to a latin extravaganza.



There were a few mishaps while I munched on the Big Apple.

This is the door that I stood in front of for far too long praying for a miracle after I’d locked myself out of my sister’s crib.

Anyone who knows me will read that and say, “Typical”.  And they’d be right.


* * * * *

In the city that never sleeps I found rest.  My bruises began to heal and I gifted myself carte blanche to re-write my story.

How does your life read?



~ by EclecticEnigma on July 14, 2009.

2 Responses to “I “heart” New York”

  1. do i qualify as true new yorker because ive been to all of the restaurants you mentioned? I LOVE CARACAS

  2. You qualify as a “true” new yorker because it is the city that made you a DOCTOR! You’re amazing for endeavoring on that journey TeBe!!!

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