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.

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.

A Day Nothing Like That One 8 Years Ago

Every person I know from the generation before mine can tell you where they were when they heard that Kennedy had been shot. For our generation it will be the September 11th attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon in 2001. Where I was is fairly insignificant (vainly at the gym on my way to a 6:30 a.m. class). What I did all day, even less significant (motionless under a blanket on the couch staring at the TV). What is significant is realizing at someone else's expense just how fragile life is.

At the time I worked for a company that was a vendor to Royal Caribbean cruise lines. As a result I went on 6 cruises in one year. Not all its cracked up to be, trust me. After the third you are ready to get off that boat! We had worked very hard to roll out a branded concept on Royal Caribbeans newest ship and it was scheduled for delivery in New York Harbor on November 7th, 2001. Two months after the 9/11 attacks. They hadn't let a passenger ship into the harbor since then and it wasn't certain that we would allowed in either.

Not only did we get approval to bring this enormous ship into Manhattan we were the first passenger ship allowed in since 9/11 so we were accompanied by helicopters, fire boats, police boats and met at the dock by Mayor Giuliani himself. This would have been enough for me but what happened that night was more intense than anything I've ever experienced. It makes me cry every time I talk about it.

Since we had sailed from Boston with just crew members the ship was essentially empty. So Royal Caribbean made arrangements with the city of New York to host an overnight sail for surviving family members, fire fighters and police officers. The ship was alive with excitement, laughter and these devastated people all dressed up having a wonderful time. Possibly their first in nearly 60 days. But then we sailed past Ground Zero, the bright lights filling the sky. The entire ship of nearly 2,000 passengers became silent. Then the sound of names being called out; "Johnny I love you", "Kelly I miss you", "I'm still here Roger".

It felt like the silence would never end, but it did. By the end of the night the ship had completely run dry of Boddingtons and Bass Ales, Irish folk songs were being sung, children ran freely, women kicked off their heels and danced. It was like a huge family reunion, minus 2,000 absentees.

Eight years later here I am, living in the city that no one will forget what happened to it. On a daily basis there is no sign of the tragedy that happened less than a decade ago. But once a year it remembers just as we all should remember. Where were you? How will you remember?

Say "Cheese"!

Three statements you just won't hear in NYC:

1. "I just can't get enough of the vegan pizza here"
2. "Good thing there aren't any decent cheese shops in Manhattan"
3. "Give me a pumpernickel bagel and hold the cream cheese"

What's one thing that pizza and bagels have in common? Where's the best celebrity watching in Manahattan and also where I have a $50 gift certificate to from my BFF? What was I looking forward to saying to "Randy" my fictitious neighborhood bagel monger every day?

"Hey Randy, give me a pumpernickel bagel with veggie cream CHEESE!".

I suppose if I asked you to guess what food item I just found out I'm ridiculously allergic to you would be able to guess pretty quickly. CHEESE!

How can you move to Manhattan and be allergic to cheese? How will establish I my friendship with "Randy"? What will I say when someone comes to visit and asks "Where's the best pizza"?.

Food is a major part of my life. Eating is more than the thing I do too keep from passing out. It's an absolute passion. Cooking, shopping for it, reading about it and of course eating it. And I am planning to do a lot of it in NYC, starting with pizza and my favorite bagel monger. So this little discovery is more than a set back. it's like some sick joke! Basically the same as moving to Seattle and being allergic to salmon and coffee. What's the frickin' point already?!

I'm slightly devastated. Well on the bright side, I guess I will just have to turn my street food intentions towards hot dogs or falafels. I am officially now accepting your favorite NYC street food alternatives!

My First Meltdown

I'm an obsessive planner. I love to plan things and then proceed to make myself crazy doing it. Lately, almost every person that I talk to asks the same question "How's the move planning going", to which I reply with complete composure, " Great! We are just moving along as planned. It's really busy but its coming along just fine". And then I just hope no one but me can hear the screams of panic inside my head as I try not to go off the deep end in public.

Well, it happened. Thankfully not in public. We all knew it would, especially MDHK (who now more than ever deserves the "D" in My Darling Husband Kent). Last Friday night we were enjoying a quiet, intimate moment, nuzzled together in an after-work nap when I had to go and ruin it by bringing up my current source of stress and obsession; the estate sale. Feeling much like I've been working in a vaccum on this project because MDHK has been extremely busy at work I had it all planned out in my mind. Unfortunately I forgot to inform him. So when I said, "Are you ready to start going through the house and setting up for the estate sale next weekend?" he acted like I had just landed from Mars. Not the reaction I was looking for. Of course I responded like any level headed, rational, adult, female would; I FREAKED THE HELL OUT! Not just a little but a lot (super unattractive and really bad for your complection I might add).

Once I calmed down long enough to ask MDHK what he needed to get on board with this program a few things became very clear:

1. I was not from Mars

2. All he needed was to see it in a schedule, which he promptly produced in Microsoft Project

3. He was not only on-board he was ready to kick into high gear, which we have for the last 3 days.

4. I was going to owe him one really special dinner of his choice (which turned out to be paella Sunday night).

5. As suspected and repeatedly learned, we own a lot of stuff!

And if you are curious about our estate sale and want to see what it looks like to get rid of 60% of your belongs in one weekend you can visit our listing http://www.nwsource.com/classifieds/scr/detail/?id=15761873

Yes, Naomi I guess I can believe that I'm moving to NYC

I've been going to my esthetician for about 7 years. Not even your hair stylist can know 'your business' the way an esthetician can, especially when she's giving you your monthly Bikini Extreme wax (we all have our indulgences and necessities). Naomi knows the business of half of Seattle. She's that good and that discreet.

Mid-way through tinting my eyebrows she just stopped and said "I can't believe you are moving to New York". YOU can't believe it? What about ME?! It's like a dream come true everyday. So much of a dream come true that I shared with her my complete vision of how my life will be and what it will look like. Right down to my fictitious neighborhood bagel dude who will be named Rodney.

It goes something like this:

"I live in a 750 sqr ft apartment in TriBeCa with a rooftop deck. It has a small updated kitchen in an open format with a bar/counter and a view of the living room. A small but efficient bedroom and an even smaller office/spare bedroom loft space with a wallbed that converts to a desk.

Every morning I go to the bodega for a coffee (small problem here, I don't actually drink coffee anymore) on my way to the bagel shop where I'm greeted by Rodney (why I've decided to call him Rodney I don't know) who lives with his grandma Gracie in Queens. Rodney doesn't bother to call me by my name. No, he has his own name for the lady from Seattle. He says to me each day "Hey Smiley! What'll it be? A pumpernickel bagel with veggie cream cheese today for ya?". To which I reply "You bet Rodney. How's Gracie doing today?". And so it goes...

On Saturdays MDHK and I wake up at 9:30, go for a run on the West Side Highway, come back, take a shower together, make love (because we don't have any house maintenance to distract us), go visit Rodney for bagels and catch flick at the local cinema."

So, YES Naomi I guess I can believe that I am moving to NYC.

The Butcher The Baker The Relocation Specialist

Oy vey! (how's that for working on my NYC lingo? stay tuned for a blog post on that one). MDHK (My Darling Husband Kent) informed today that the Rental Agent in NYC, the moving company and the relocation specialist all called him to day. I could almost see the stress lines in his forehead deepening over the phone. Time to jump into 'Calm-Creative-Multi-Tasking-Supportive-Wife' mode and say something re-assuring to him like "Don't worry about a thing, honey, just give me their numbers and I'll call them back".

Am I crazy?! I have no idea what to tell them. Where do I begin? How about I start by having a nervous breakdown over the tremendous amount of crap we've accummulated over the last 13 years of marriage? Or that we aren't actually finished with the basement remodel yet. Oh, I know I'll start by telling them we have no idea when MDHK is actually supposed to be in NYC because they are too busy here in Seattle to have figured that out yet.

In the meantime I have two proposals to write, a newsletter for LifeStyled to send out, a press release for my DVD to start pushing on editors & publications. "Calgon take me away!" (you have to be of a certain age to get that, sorry kids).

Where everybody knows your name

Its always been a bit of joke between MDHK (a.k.a. My Darling Husband Kent) and I that I can't go anywhere in Seattle without running into someone I know. Like the other night. We were both feeling too exhausted to make dinner and used it as an excuse to go to the Taco Time up the street (who doesn't have it in for a Mexi Fry?). As you can imagine if I was too tired to cook I was also too tired to get "gussied up". No biggie, right?

Not so fast. As a Personal Stylist people just expect that you always look perfectly put-together. Well one of my most endearing qualities has to be my ability to 'keep it real'. And real I was when in walks Tracy Klinkroth, sassy entrepreneur and urban social scenester. There I was in baggy jeans, my favorite old sweater and worn out Dansko clogs (yes, you heard me). I was a vision of grey and looking like a real Seattle-ite.

It got me wondering about what will be my neighborhood guilty pleasure excuse in NYC. Will I ever get to the point that I run into someone I know not looking my best in NYC? Its such a big place I suppose it's possible not to. And finally it occured to me that the days of hearing MDHK say "Do you know everyone in this town" are slowing drawing near to an end.

The Sum Of Our Experiences

As I watched the people pour through the door it hit me that this was going to be the perfect opportunity for me to make a big announcement.

A week ago on January 22nd I co-hosted the biggest party I've ever thrown; New Style For New Times. Not only was it the collaboration betwen like minded business owners, Craig Williams of Craig Williams Interiors and Evelyn & Michael Lee of Alchemy Collections,and myself but it was also billed as the launch event for my new DVD, "The Essential Guide".

More than a party it was the sum of many life experiences for me. The over 200 people that attended were friends, clients, compatriots, collaborators, supporters, and family. They were there to show their support and drink free wine, but they got so much more.

As I took the microphone to say some 'thank you's', announce my DVD, share tips and insights on how to maintain personal style in a challenging economy I realized that this was the pefect time to tell everyone what I'd been slowly leaking out over the last month. So I did it.

I announced to group of 200 people that my darling husband Kent and I would be moving to the other apple of my eye, New York City in May of this year!

There it was. I said it. No turning back now. People were thrilled, excited, sad, happy. I knew just how they felt. Now the real adventure begins. Right?!