Living Large in the Big Apple

"Food, food, food. That's all you ever post", a friend comments one day on my Facebook page.  While another says: "How do you stay skinny eating all of the time?". And my personal favorite: "Are you getting fat out there in NYC?". Ah friends. Can't shoot 'em, can't live without them.

Of course if you follow me on facebook you would assume all I do is eat, cook, throw parties and have cocktails with friends.  And you wouldn't be far from the truth. In defense let's look at the factors and elements at hand:
1. I live in New York City. Manhattan. The Big Apple. Gotham.  You don't get that many names as a city if you don't have a lot to offer and something to do, eat or drink all of the time.
2. I didn't move here to memorize cable TV channels.
3. I/we don't have kids. We have to fill my time with something (can you say ChildFreeNYC Meet Up Group?)
4. You post pictures of your kids, I post pictures of the things I eat and cook with and for friends.  We both are sharing what makes life good for us.
5. "Foodie" doesn't come close to describing how I live my life. It's almost a pedestrian insult at this point.  Why I'm not on Top Chef I don't know.  I just choose to make it hobby and not a J-O-B.  But honestly my passion for food, the art and science of it go well beyond the average so-called "foodie". Its an obsession, a passion and a way of life. As MDHK likes to quote me saying once while in Rome, "The ultimate goal here is food".

I will have to admit that sometimes when I see the insane amount of eating, cooking and drinking that I do as per my facebook posts I have to wonder; "Why am I not fat in NYC?".  But then I look down at my wickedly sensible (for me), extremely worn street worthy shoes and remember my digital response to the many inquiries about my weight management (which I can only assume come from a very genuine and thoughtful place of concern for my well being). It goes something like this:

"I don't have a car. No one in NYC does really. I walk everywhere.Why wouldn't I? Even taking the subway requires a lot of walking and lots of stairs. On average I walk 3+ miles a day. With out of town guests it's more like 4-6 miles a day."  You add to that the fact that EVERYTHING you purchase has to get home somehow.  That means I'm also a pack mule carrying everything from printer paper to toilet paper, groceries, extra clothing layers, dress shoes to change into, you name it.

So the next time you see me checking in at Momofuku, posting a pic of a burger from Back Forty, or singing the praises of Vanessa's dumpling Happy Hour while knocking back a beer at Drop Off Service or stopping off at a party at Macao. Rest easy. My arteries will give out before my waistline.

Fancy Meeting You Here

When I first moved to New York City the sensation that struck me the most was that of anonymity.  I could walk the streets, ride the subway and shop in stores knowing that I knew virtually no one here.  It was actually a refreshing feeling having come from the 2nd smallest big city in the world, Seattle where I had lived and worked for 20 years.  It was near impossible for me to leave the house without running into someone I knew (case in point: "Where Everybody Knows Your Name" Feb. 6, 2009). 

I remember the first time I spotted someone that I knew here. It was in the 14th St. Union Square subway station which is one of the busiest in the city and can only be described as some sort of organized chaos (so iconic it has it's own Wiki page).  When I spotted this person I was so stunned that words escaped me and they never even knew I was there. At the same time it felt like that scene in the Wizard of Oz when everything goes from black and white to color.  My little anonymity bubble had been popped. And I was all right with that because I knew that in a city of 2.6 million people surely this wouldn't happen all of the time.  Or would it?

It actually started happening more frequently.  Once a month. A couple of times a month. Once a week. Then a couple of times a week.  What was happening here? What did this mean? This week I ran into someone I know randomly on the street four times. FOUR TIMES! It was a lovely feeling that reminded me how much this city has become home and how lucky we are to have made such wonderful friends (more on that in the next post).

I still feel a sense of anonymity but there's a blanket of warmth around it called 'community'.  Which is a good thing, because we're about to head into winter here and you need as much warmth as you can get.

The Nerdy New Yorker

I've never claimed to be too cool for school.  Wouldn't even try to fake that one.  There are some things that come naturally and some that don't.  For me, faking things and comprimising comfort are two things I don't do so well. So as I strolled around Manhattan in the mid-August humidity that borders on oppressive with a visiting Seattlite and fellow Fem-preneur, Nicole Donnelly, she asked;
"How do you deal with this heat?"
"By being a nerd", I replied.

Fair and square, I am the Nerdy New Yorker.  Every summer as the heat and humidity tries to out-do each other I get increasingly nerdier.  Where to begin explaining.  The shoes? The umbrella? The hat? the underwear?

Let's start with the stats: currently its 90 degrees with 45% humidity.
Adding to this: hot pavement, subway vents, airconditioner units going, car exhaust and lots of buildings, all radiating heat.

How do you combat this? Its a process that I'm close to perfecting, and though it will help make your body a bit cooler it won't do a damn thing for your hip and cool factor. 

• Shoes - your feet swell with excessive walking which is unavoidable in NYC, but then you add some external heat and BOOM.  You have sausages. NYC streets are filthy on a regular day but they are disgusting in the summer time.  Flip flops aren't ideal, but if you have to I reccommend Fit Flops because they are ergonomic, have a lot more cushion and are raised to keep you off the ground a bit. Also, Jambu sport shoe for casual and quite a few of Born's dressier shoes
• Hat - sometimes just the littlest amont of shade can make a huge difference.  I like San Diego Hat company for their many cloth and straw varieties designed especially for sun. 
• Umbrella - now were are really getting nerdy, but wait until I tell you about this one. Everyone in my family has had skin cancer so I'm careful to always wear sunscreen (my favorite comes from my dermatologist who is also the founder of MD Skincare). I read about Sun Grubbies UV reflective umbrellas while reading a blog about a photoshoot in Death Valley and how they survived the 120 degree heat. It literally brings the tempurature down by 10 degrees when you stand under it.
• Folding Fan - Its literally 112 degrees on the subway platforms. 'nuff sed. I buy them in bulk at Pearl River Mart for $.45 because people are always commenting on how they wish they had one so I give them mine and pull out an extra.
• Clothing - all cotton, all dresses, all of the time. I own about 15 little cotton dresses that I bought at the begining of the season from Zara. Each of the cost me around $40.  They are stylish, don't have an acetate sticky lining and hid those trickles running down my back. This Spanish based line takes a very european approach to 'cheap 'n' cheerful'.  Classier and better made than H&M, but not found nationwide yet.  However on September 2 you can begin shopping them on line.
• Underwear - yes, you even have to give special consideration to this. Because it is the first contact with your skin it needs to be ultra performance.  Patagonia, Ex Officio, Athleta, all make performance, moisture wicking underwear for women. The Barely Hipster and the Boy Brief are currently making my life a lot more comfortable.
• Keeping Face - Blotting papers are the best way to remove the sheen without adding more make-up.  I buy mine at Asian department stores like Pearl River Mart, but you can also find them at Sephora along with Neutrogena.

Now before you think me a complete geek let me just say that whatever I do in my attempts to keep cool, it could be worse.  It could always be worse.

What To Do When The Snow Hits Your Bum

When you have snow up to your butt what do you do? After you've made the snow man, taken photos of yourself bundled up like an eskimo, and started looking longingly at the 12 year old scotch in the cabinet?  I head straight for the kitchen and make every cozy food I can.  In bulk.  Then I call the neighbors and tell them come over. But bring some scotch.


Today Manhattan is gorgeous winter wonderland with more snow on the way so I'm making "Darcey’s Low-Fat Granola".  Its one of my staple contributions to group gatherings at the cabin and as gifts during the holidays.  It makes a nice healthy amount.  I enjoy it with some cut up Honey Crisp apple when they are in season and cold almond milk poured over it.  That's just ridiculously healthy and low fat.  You might like to add some really creamy yogurt on yours!

Darcey's Low-Fat Granola (with a full fat flavor)
4 c oats
¾ c slivered almonds
2/3c pecans
1/2c raw pumpkin seeds
1 ¼ c angel flake coconut
1 ½ tsp cinnamon

5 Tbl canola oil
4 Tbl real maple syrup
2 tsp vanilla

2 Tbl canola oil
1 ½ Tbl real maple syrup
1 tsp vanilla

2 cups of dried fruit
(I like slivered apricots, cranberries, currents & golden raisins)

Pre heat oven to 375. in medium mixing bowl combine first 6 ingredients
In small bowl combine first measurement of oil, syrup & vanilla. Add to oat mixture and toss to combine.

Spread oat mixture on 2 nonstick baking sheets. Bake stirring frequently until browned, 10-12 minutes. Transfer sheet to wire rack to let cool

Transfer oat mixture to medium mixing bowl; add dried fruit and toss to combine. Then mix second measurement of oil, syrup & vanilla. Pour over oat and fruit mixture and toss to combine.

Store in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks.

Look Both Ways. Twice!

Seattle is the home of the J-walking ticket.  Believe it or not the cops in Seattle have so little to do that they will cite you walking against the light or not in a designated crosswalk.  So its just funny as hell to me when someone comes to visit from Seattle and I see them standing at the crosswalk in downtown Manhattan waiting for the light like a bullwhipped puppy. 

You see, New Yorkers don't wait for anything.  If they see a break, a hole, or crack they'll slip right through it.  Where we are all going in such a hurry I haven't quite figured it out completely.  Personally I've always walked too fast (talked to loud, laughed too much... more on that in another post) so this feels just right to me. I suppose it has something to do with transportation.  Its all on a time schedule and so are we.  You are always running to catch a subway that you don't even know if its there.

When you do decide to dart out into the street through that break in the traffic you definitely want to look both ways, regardless of the fact that almost every single street in NYC is a one-way.  Not because some crazy cabbie may be screaming in reverse.  No, they are actually the least of your worries.  The closest I've come to getting run down in the street was not by something yellow with four wheels.  It was by a darkly dressed creature whose body resembled the narrow tubular frame he rode with two wheels. 

Cyclists; they are the most dangerous things on the road. They will come flying at top speeds of 30 mph going the wrong way on a one-way street through an intersection without so much as a flinch much less a pause.  And when they nearly mow you down they yell obscenities at YOU!

This kind of crazy, balls-out intensity has been glamourized before in movies like the Japanese film "Messengers" and "Quicksilver" the 1986 cheeseball flick staring everyone's favorite drinking game host, Kevin Bacon.  But the most realistic one is the soon to be released "Empire".  It's all NY and it's all cyclists.  Set in the classic Warren Miller fashion of jammin' music and edgy footage.

Watch this 4 minutes and 22 seconds of "Empire" and for godsakes look both ways when you cross the street. Twice!

Good Night Good Kitty

She was the smallest. The runt. Not surprising really, her mother's name was Itty Bitty. She was one of a legacy that came from a farm on the Okanagan river. Saul, Meyer, Veronica, just to name a few of her relatives throughout the land. Even her name had a legacy; she was named for my Grandmother, the street my parents live on, a song from a band MDHK once played in, my favorite movie and a snowboard apparel company my college BF once owned. She was Little Betty Kitty, Betty Blue, or "the girlfriend" to My Darling Husband Kent. You couldn't help but love all 6 lbs. of her. Even when she was being eerily human in her sometimes manipulative female ways.

We had some optimistic ideas about bringing our 'girls', Betty and Veronica (my grandfather's name is Vince, but Veronica turned out to be a female, so we went with an Archie theme) out to New York with us. They'd lived for 12 years in a house, with a cat door. Free access to the world, and occasionally free access for raccoons to our world. But once we saw our apartment in Manhattan it became painfully obvious that this would not be in the best interest of anyone, particularly 'the girls'. Never mind the flight out here in a carrier.

After many close calls and unsuccessful attempts to find suitable homes in Seattle we resigned ourselves to the fact that these cats were going with us. Then like an absolute angel from beyond my wildest dreams my friend Dana's co-worker Kelsey showed up the night before MDHK's departure. I'd met Kelsey before and was aware of her kind, competent, resourceful nature. What I didn't know was that she lived in house with 4 other women in our neighborhood and they were looking to adopt and/or foster a couple of cats. "Are you frickin' kidding me?!!!". I could feel my heart soar. I threw Veronica in Kelsey's arms to charm her immediately.

A house meeting of the roommates was called. A vote was taken. The word was in; "Yes"! 'The girls' would go live with the girls.

Kelsey sent adorable photos via her phone as updates to relieve our worried and guilty minds. Betty seduced and Veronica charmed. All was good. Until Kelsey sent word that Betty was loosing a lot of weight despite the excessive feedings and they were going to take her in. I called the Vet, gave them my credit card and asked that they do whatever tests or x-rays necessary.

You can probably guess where this is going. After a round of antibiotics her white blood cell count was still triple what it should be. An x-ray showed what was most likely a cancerous growth in her stomach. She continued to loose weight and eventual most of her faculties.

Kelsey and her roommate Britta kept her near and us comforted but it was time. Time to celebrate what Betty had brought to us, what she would leave behind and just how much she was loved. As childless parents of two cats it was near impossible to make this decision from so far away, but it was time. Time to stop placing these human constraints on Betty's animal destiny. In Seattle"The Girls" had a dinner with friends that knew Betty and shared stories of her cuteness. In New York I laid on the couch until 3 a.m. alone in my grief and guilt crying until I could feel her pass through me on her way to kitty heaven. She was a good kitty. She had a good life.

Good night good kitty.

The Real Deal

Whether you're a native or newbie to a city sometimes you have to do touristy things just to cross them off the list and legitimately be able to say "been there, did that" the next time someone suggests it. I'm not talking about going up in the Space Needle or visiting the Statue of Liberty. Those are rites of passage. No, I'm talking about the $100 brunch at Pastise (yes, we made that mistake already) or going to a luau in Waikiki, Hawaii (I grew up in Hawaii so I'm exempt from that one). You know the kind of thing that makes you wonder which end of the horse you must hast have fallen off and how hard did you hit your head when you landed. Because if you were in your right mind you would not have done this voluntarily. Right?

However there are the things you do because they are just so damn real that not only will you do them once but you'd go back by yourself and do it again alone. They capture the essence of why you are there. Such as buying fresh seafood from the only saltwater tables in Pike Place Market at Jack's Fish Spot, stopping at a Stuckey's to buy floaty pens on Route 66, or throwing coins in the Trevi Fountain in Rome because John H. Secondari told us so (and you thought it had more to do with Clifton Webb, didn't you?).


Katz Deli is one of those places for me. It reminds of what is so amazing about living in New York. It is a hold-out on a street of hold-outs, such as Yonah Schimmel's Knishery, a block from what can only be referred to as the corner of "here and now" its so hip.(Ludlow and Rivington). It's also, if you didn't already know, the location of the famous fake orgasm scene with Meg Ryan & Billy Crystal in "When Harry Met Sally". And one of those places that you might wonder why you pay to be so abruptly treated. But the moment you look up into the eyes of man who will soon make you the most amazing thing on a plate and say "I'll have a pastrami reuben on rye with a side of mixed pickles" and he puts in front of you a small deli plate with a sample of the meat you are about to eat, there becomes no question in your mind why you love this place. It is without a doubt a very real experience, of true quality and culture that cannot be duplicated. In fact it is The Real Deal.

Picture perfect; pastrami reuben on rye, side of mixed pickles and a Dr. Brown's Root Beer