My sister Jean doesn’t like New
York. She lives in a small Massachusetts town and finds New York rushed and somewhat intimidating. In fact, she hasn’t been
here for more than a few hours in eight years.
So a few months ago when she said she wanted to come visit, I was
thrilled, and hoped to dispel her reservations about this great city.
Before Jean arrived, I asked
her what she wanted to do. She:
- Didn’t want to go shopping
- Didn’t want to be in crowded midtown
- Wanted to see new neighborhoods, maybe go to Brooklyn
- Visit some museums
- Eat at funky places
- Did plenty of shopping
- Spent time in crowded midtown
- Did not go to Brooklyn
- Saw no museums
- Ate in not one funky place
Jean arrives on Tuesday
around noon; her bus is an hour late. We
eat lunch in, and then head out. Jean
doesn’t know the city, so any neighborhood outside the upper east side is a new
one for her.
We take the subway down to
the meatpacking district, and start wandering.
My sister is overdressed and wants a T-shirt to replace her sweater. We find a small shop inside
Chelsea Market where my sister sees the
perfect hand-painted shirt and buys two.
We wander around and spend time in a kitchen-supply store, before finding
two cute French guys selling tea and spices.
We become enamored with the different flavors. Jean buys me a beautiful glass teapot and I
select some exotic teas to fill it. I
get black vanilla, cinnamon orange, and peach apricot, hoping they taste as
good as they smell.
We take a cookie break, and all too fast it’s time to head home. We hang out at my apartment
for a couple of hours, and then dress for dinner.
We meet Val and her family
at Café Boulud to belatedly celebrate Adam’s birthday. I get salmon tartar for an appetizer and duck
for an entrée. Two Cosmopolitans and I am more than tipsy. The food is exquisite and the company more
so.
It’s a perfect end to a
perfect day.
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