How’s that for alliteration? I try, I try.
June 20 marked the beginning of a month long gift to myself: New York City, Spain, the Netherlands, and Canada.
The premise behind the trip was to visit my friend Lana, mate from university and life long girlfriend. She has been living in Madrid for the past 2 years and to be honest, I got really tired of her bragging about it all the time. I used to live there too ya know, you aren’t that special! Okay….she is. So I had had enough and decided it was time for a visit to my old stomping grounds, by way of NYC of course because, why not?
So my story begins in New York…
…where my driver scoops me up
He sasses me a lot, but overall Jenkins is a very amiable soul.
We pass right on through Manhattan and on to White Plains. I’m so over Manhattan. White Plains is where it’s at. They have this amazing restaurant there called the Cheesecake Factory. I wish we had one of those here.
After doing some time in suburbia hell, I move on to Midtown with my favorite Russian. Anyone who knows Marina knows that whatever the night holds, copious amounts of alcohol are always involved. She treated me to a lovely date at a rooftop terrace – 230 Fifth
The views were pretty spectacular and the bar was uber New York City. I had to stuff my clutch with $100 bills just so I would fit in.
Dinner for the night was Pipa’s, perhaps the best Spanish food I’ve had this side of the Atlantic. And NO ONE has better sangria. NO ONE. I dare you to prove me wrong. One jarra at a time…
You can see I ordered my staple, croquetas, while Marina got tortilla. Never been a huge fan of tortilla but the croquetas were D-I-V-I-N-A.
We finished the night at one of my favorite spots, Rockwood Music Hall, with some of my favorite people, Deena Goodman and Alexandrea Rowell. The music was lovely, the company was even better, and I was glowing with excitement over being back in New York with some of the greatest people I know.
The next day, my Russian princess took me to Chelsea Pier to nurse our hangovers
which was followed by lunch at Mercer Kitchen
But our day still isn’t over. I whimpered a bit when Marina wanted to go get some more cocktails, but I could not let her see any weakness. She can smell fear. So we move on to Plunge – great views of the city and horrendous, over priced wine in plastic cups. I hate drinking out of plastic unless I’m on a picnic or at the beach. And even then it’s questionable. It may have something to do with BPA and my tiny problem with ingesting chemicals. No class, this place.
It looked way cooler on the show.
My New York story ends here folks. Time for Spain…