Home, Home On The Remains.

A week or so after I announced that I was leaving, apart from my family I told some close friends, several of whom I have known close to forty years. My one friend Sam (not his real name), urged me to come on back home to NYC so that we could talk. Sam and I go back to ninth grade, and shared many a - ahem - youthful escapade together. he is a NYC detective, and basically threatened me with physical harm if I didn't come down. Of course, that's his way of showing he cares, especially in light of the fact that he has been down this road, and in a very bad way, I might add.

I left last Wednesday, a little later than I wanted to, and got into New Rochelle where my brother lives at about 10 pm. He already left for work, and after settling in, I decided to go see him down at his EMS station in the South Bronx. I have never seen where his command is, and he being a paramedic Lt. with FDNY, I was curious to see the place where he held court. I also had the opportunity to meet a mutual friend, another paramedic that is an old timer like I was, and like my brother is.

I had a good time, got in the door at about 2:30-ish, and then got up to move my car at 8:10 am, as New Rochelle suffers from the same malady that plagues NYC - that of alternate side of the street parking. Unfortunately, I overslept by a few minutes, and got tagged with a parking ticket. My brother however, seems to be friendly with many in the parking bureau (I don't want to know why), and he thinks he can get it squashed, or substantially reduced. I'm waiting to hear from him later this week.

Friday was a great day. My cousin and I went to lunch at this kick-ass restaurant in Little Italy, Forlini's on Baxter St. the food was terrific, and when inside, it looks like something out of mob movie. I half expected DeNiro, Pesci, and maybe John Gotti - if he wasn't already dead - to stop on inside. I had this terrific chicken dish, with sun dried tomatoes, bow tie pasta in a light cream sauce:


Their house red wine was excellent, as was the cheesecake.

My cousin and I hung out for about 90 minutes, talking about everything under the sun, and it was good to reconnect with her. We hadn't seen each other in about two years.

I then got on Metro-North, and headed up to Mamaroneck to see Sam. It had been a while since I traveled the subway and commuter railroad, but I remembered how to get around as if I never left. I arrived here at the station after leaving Grand Central:

Sam took me out to dinner, along with his new neighbors from France, Vincent and Corali. They just arrived about a week ago, and are teachers at the FASNY, the French-American School in Mamaroneck. (http://www.fasny.org/) they are a young married couple, and while his English is very good, hers is not so much. She works mainly in the science lab, while he is a math teacher. we had a great time, and I played English teacher, as I was asked to explain the difference between "neither," and "either" looks as though I have a place to stay in the south of France any time that I want.

I spent Saturday in part with my mom, after taking my niece out to breakfast, and then spent Saturday night in the company of my old paramedic partner, Tony. He's still out there, fighting the good fight, but has decided it's time to retire. Of course, the skull fracture he suffered on the job a few months back hastened his decision to retire soon, but I think he should have retired five years ago.

All in all, it was a good trip, but now I'm home, and facing the reality that is packing up the rest of my life, and getting ready to move into my apartment later this month. I think I may need another vacation when that is all said and done.

Early spring pickings

One of the things I miss about growing up where I did was that we were close enough to a major body of water to have fresh seafood available at many local restaurants. Off the mainland of the Bronx is City Island, a residential neighborhood that is packed with great seafood places up and down the main drag of the island. I learned from an early age how to judge a good slice of fish, or how a lobster should be cooked properly, but my favorite dish was really mussels, dipped in butter and garlic. It wasn't until I was almost an adult that I learned that most mussels are not harvested from the sea, but actually from trees that often root close to large bodies of water.

Imagine my surprise when I learned that bit of information. It seems that tree mussels (bivalvia mollusca rootus), while varied is size, are often more flavorful than their fresh or salt water cousins. They tend to be larger, as they few natural predators, and draw their nutrients directly from the trees themselves. Some variants are root feeders, while others stay higher up in the trees.

After a winter hibernation, they are best picked in late spring - early summer, as they grow rather rapidly. One should never pick them in the fall, as the quality tends to diminish as they prepare for winter hibernation. Also, make sure you wash them thoroughly, and steaming is usually the best way to insure that there will be no chance of microbial infection from it being under-cooked. Like with all mussels, over cooking them can make them rubbery, so be diligent.

So, if you live in a place that is near a large body of water, look for those mussel trees! You might be surprised to find out that you never knew they were there in the first place. They make great eating, and are a tasty side dish or main meal.

Willy Wonka be damned!

Jay, over at thedeppeffect posted this the other day: a chocolate themed post, including Mr. Depp, of course. My mind immediately shot to the last piece of Cote d'Or that was sitting in my fridge. It was an anniversary gift from a dear friend of Mrs N.'s who had just returned from Belgium. I still marvel at the differences between American and chocolate from Europe, especially Belgian and Swiss chocolates. I truly have come to prefer the European variety, as ours seems to be just too sugary. I mean, sugar in chocolate is fine, but overdoing it just destroys the taste of the chocolate. I think I got my first taste of this type of chocolate when I was in England for the first time in 1989, and snacked on a Cadbury over there. I then came home, and really tasted the difference between the Cadbury that we would have here, and what I tasted over in England. Big difference.

So, what is your favorite chocolate indulgence, and what do you prefer? Very sweet, not so sweet, or bittersweet?

Haute couture

Every once in a while it's good to step out of one's comfort zone and try a little something different. While I am involved in the arts, it doesn't mean that every type of artistic endeavor appeals to me. Take opera, for example. While there are many forms of classical music I do enjoy, opera is something I can take or leave. I think it depends on which form of opera I am confronted with at the time. Wagner, for example, makes me want to open a vein. Mozart on the other hand, can be truly delightful. Every once in a while however, I come across something new that for some reason, makes me stand up and take notice. In this case, I got to experience a magnificent piece of work firsthand.

Mrs. Nighttime sings (mezzo-soprano) with a local 45 voice chorale group, the Gregory Kunde Chorale. Who is Gregory Kunde, you may ask? He is an internationally recognized bel canto tenor, and has sung in most, if not all, of the major opera houses in the world. He is ranked in the same league as Pavarotti, Domingo, Carreras, et. al. He actually understudied for Pavarotti in the past. While not a household name here in the U.S., Kunde has a large following in Europe.

He is also, a resident of the Rochester area. The man could live anywhere, and he chooses to live right here.

As a working musician, he travels around the world frequently, and as fate would have it, this past Saturday found him in Toronto, a mere 2 1/2 hours from Rochester. He was singing "The Damnation of Faust," by Berlioz at Roy Thomson Hall, with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. Several members of the chorale decided to make a suicide run (back and forth in the same night, rather than staying overnight) and we hopped along for the ride. As it was a Saturday, the ride across the Peace Bridge from Buffalo to Ft. Erie was uneventful, and even the border guard was pleasant. We got into Toronto at 6 pm, and with the show not until 8, we stopped into the Elephant and Castle across the street from the hall for dinner (We already bought the tickets prior.).

The concert itself was magnificent, the acoustics in the hall were perfect, and we got to see Greg while he was "working." While he often does some solo signing with the chorale, it is quite another thing to see him in action, and what a magnificent voice he possesses. You can get a sample here, and here. Afterward, as we were invited guests, we went back to his dressing room to congratulate him, as well as the others with whom he was singing. Ah, but the night was not over.

Greg invited us to go out with him to Le Select Bistro, a wonderful French bistro off of Spadina Ave. I cannot even begin to describe how perfect the food was in this place. Greg's comment was "You're in France when you eat here." As he has been to France so many times, we took him at his word. He did not disappoint. While we had already eaten dinner, we decided a nice dessert and coffee would top off the evening. I chose the chocolate gateaux with passion fruit sorbet, and fresh blackberries.

Mrs. Nighttime had the creme brulee, and both were done to perfection. This was washed down with Spanish coffee with a liqueur whose name escapes me. Greg had a risotto dish that he passed around for all to try, and it was incredible. After much food and talk, it was time to leave, as it was almost 1 am. Greg was grateful that we made the trip to see him, and we thanked him for the meal, as he picked up the tab.

We made it back to Rochester at 4 am, exhausted, but satisfied with such a great evening. It's a rare treat, but I have bookmarked that bistro, and will find a way to get back there for a full dinner.

The Road Well Travelled Pt. 4 - The Food's The Thing. (En Fin)

So when we last left your intrepid traveler, he was just leaving his old place of residence, feeling both mentally exhausted, but better for the experience. Of course, it was not quite as adventurous as Quarsan, Zoe's favorite twat, (see his recent post on her blog regarding Tanzanian butchers for further details) but the one thing we had in common was the search for food.

However, continuing my walk back to my mom's building, I came across a sight that pushed my spirits up. You will recall that I found the site of my old "thinking tree," the enormous willow that stood in the empty field across the street from my building. Apparently, there was more than one willow that suffered the same fate. I came across one such willow, right next to the former baseball field where I played Little League baseball as a kid. It is now paved over, the big field known as "the Greenway" being used as a parking lot while all the parking garages were being rehabbed. The word is that since the garages are all opened again, that the Greenway will be returned to its former state at some point. One can only hope.

This tree however did not suffer quite the same fate as my willow. It was still intact, rooted in the ground, but only a small fraction of its former grandeur. That said, looking at I had a sense of hope. It was coming back from the near-death experience it seemed to have suffered. There was life sprining forth from it, and the branches that came out of it formed a small canopy that maybe, with time and caring, will envelope another kid, and let him or her think underneath it.



A small explanation is in order. (Claudia, you may wish to take your anti-emetic before reading further.) White Castle. Home of the "murder burger," the "belly bomber," or my personal fav, the "rectum rocket." All misnomers. A storied hamburger. One only need rent "Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle" in order to understand its appeal. Before McDonald's, Before Burger King, before Wendy's, there was White Castle. Small burger, you can eat 2 or 3 at a shot. Some of the best onion rings around, and their vanilla thick shakes are heaven. I don't eat a lot of junk food. If I go every 2-3 months, that is a lot. This however, was a trip down memory lane, at least those that involved copious amounts of recreational pharmaceuticals. My personal best is 8 cheeseburgers at one sitting. Ah, those were the days.

Food is an important part of any New Yorker's upbringing, that is to say, knowing where the best places are to eat out. There are so many eateries, restaurants, etc. in a city of almost 9 million, that one needs to be choosy. Growing up in the Bronx however, one has an extra added benefit.

Off the mainland of the Bronx is City Island. Originally a small fishing village, it is now a mecca for seafood lovers all over NYC. The only section that rivals it, IMHO, is Sheepshead Bay in Brooklyn. The island is crammed with seafood places up and down, from begining to end. My personal fav, and known to all in the Bronx, is Sammy's, a City Island institution. We took my mom there last year for her 75th birthday, and it had been a number of years since I was there. The food was as delicious as ever. However, as Sammy's is on the expensive side, and I was treating my brother to lunch, another place two doors down filled the bill.

Tony's is the last restaurant on the island, and was one of the more inexpensive places. Still, it was cheaper than Sammy's and the food was good, though not as good as I remember it. Back in the day, the boats use to pull up to Tony's and dump their catch right on the dock next to the restaurant. Talk about fresh catch of the day! My brother and I dined on some excellent New England chowder, frogs legs and clams.
City Island also does not feel like NYC. It provides a bit of a respite from the high energy that one usually finds in other places in the city. From the gulls that amasse on the pier, to the sailboats that lazily make their way to the mouth of Long Island Sound, this is a quiet place in a very noisy city. I do miss it.

And that, as they say is that. All-in-all, a good trip, mixed with good and bad, joy and sorrow. Let the next time be all joy.

It's coming, I promise......

Pt 4. of my NYC journey is coming...I swear. I've just been running about everywhere this weekend. I'll finally settle down some tomorrow, but after I've cleaned out my garage which needs it desperately. Until then, a little tease:

Got these where you are?

Take a walk with me....

The Bronx will always be my hometown, but Rochester is my home. Throughout the 9 years I have been here, I have truly come to enjoy all this place has to offer. We made the decision to live in the suburbs, as I wanted some breathing space, amongst other reasons, but I drive into the city practically every day. Mind you, this takes about 10-15 minutes to get into downtown Rochester, a little longer to get to the neighborhood that I enjoy hanging out in, the Park Ave. area. It reminds me a lot of certain places in Brooklyn, and is an absolutely gorgeous area of the city. If I were to consider becoming a city dweller again, this is where I would want to move. My fav coffee shop is here, and it has some of the most gorgeous homes in the area.

So put your walking shoes on as we take a brief tour...


So here is where we start:


Park and Berkley, my main hangout.


















The houses and other buildings in this area are beautiful, and most have a hefty price tag. Renting an apartment in this neck in the woods can be pricey as well, but if you can afford it, it is worth it. Many of the homes go back to the first part of the 20th century.

















Like I said, it is one beautiful place to walk around in.












Of course, once your done walking, a nice place to eat and drink always helps:

Jine's is one of my favorite places. It is a Rochester institution.













Feeling Mediterranean? Sinbad's is your place...













Abbott's is another Rochester institution, and I have yet to find a better custard anywhere. They even have a shop in Tokyo, if I recall. (Hey Julia, dontcha miss this stuff down in the hinterlands of Jamestown? ;-) )






Still have a sweet tooth? Try stopping by Steever's...



























.....and if you feel the need to get a new body orifice, or become a walking piece of art, we can satisfy that urge as well.........


Well, there you are for now. More walking tours to follow.

Something to whet Claudia's whistle...

...as it doesn't take much to make her wet. (Ugh, bad pun, I know, couldn't help it.) I mentioned to her that I will be visiting NYC shortly to see my mom and brother, and I promised her some pictures, as she is a bona fide NYC'ophile. I remembered that I had some pictures from my last trip down, so, below is a small (and I do mean small, as in 4 tables.) Turkish restaurant in Greenwich Village that I have been frequenting since I was 19. I always go there when I go home to visit. They make the best doners on the planet, imho.





Mmmmm........I can taste the lamb and pita, and all the other stuff now. Location? MacDougal and Bleecker, just up the block from The Olive Tree Cafe/Comedy Cellar.

19

Two nights ago, Mrs. Nighttime and I celebrated 19 years being married. It has been a long road, and while we still have things to overcome, we are working together on this. Going through the medical crisis that I did puts particular strains on a marriage. Almost dying twice is not an easy thing to deal with for both the person going through it, and the person who is caring for them. Such is the case with me.

Nietzsche remarked that "Whatever does not kill us, makes us stronger." There is a great deal of truth to that, though when it comes to marriage, it can have the opposite effect. The trick is learning to crawl your way back. Joseph Campbell remarked that "Marriage is an ordeal." It is a shared one, to be sure.

The other night however, was a time to put those things aside, and just enjoy things for what they are. We were looking for a good restaurant to go to, some place we have never been before. A friend of the wife suggested Esperanza Mansion, on the east side of Keuka Lake. It was a great suggestion. The food was terrific, we had a great bottle of Pinot Noir from Ravines Wineries, a Keuka Lake winery. The view from the northeast end of the lake was wonderful as well. (As you can see here.)

Some other shots from the restaurant:





This is the view to the west side of the lake.










View from the restaurant veranda, looking southeast. This is smack in the middle of farm country, as well as wine country.











Petunias on the veranda.













Inside one of the guest dining rooms. The mansion is also a hotel/B&B.












Rear view of the mansion. I was not able to get a view of the front veranda, as the grass was soaked from a rainstorm that we rode into on the way there. Lots of lightning and downed trees on the road. It was a 90 minute drive there, but well worth the effort.

Legally brunette.........

Easter is not a holiday that has any special meaning for me, as I was raised Jewish. While I had many friends from different religious persuasions, Easter did not have the significance for me that it did for my more devout Christian friends. I gave up being Jewish for Lent some time ago. Let's just say that for me, organized religion is something of a contradiction in terms. (There is nothing organized about it, IMHO) My wife, who was raised Catholic, also gave up on the church many moons ago for reasons similar to mine, but even more so due to the hypocrisy that she saw and heard over the course of many a Sunday mass.

So, here I am today at my in-laws place, as they are more devout in nature, and do celebrate Easter both in spirit and in food. The ham is delicious, as is everything else. (I've always wondered: Why ham on Easter? If someone could give me an answer to that, I would be forever grateful.) As Passover often falls close to, if not directly on Easter, in the past I would often find myself at relatives' houses indulging in foods that had no relation to anything that came from a pig, as this is somewhat frowned upon by those who are of the Hebrew persuasion.

Of more importance is that my niece's birthday was a few days ago, so the celebration was delayed until today, since there was a large family gathering for the holiday as well as her birthday. It is hard to believe that this little girl is not so little anymore.

She turned 21.......

She's also not one of these vacuous college students that seem to be everywhere today. She is majoring in psychology, and while this often stimulates active eye rolling in many when you first hear that, she is quite serious about this field. She seems to be leaning towards working with people in group homes, and considers herself a devotee of Jung, rather than Freud. (Though she is not so sure about Jung's ideas on dream interpretation.)

For this girl, majoring in psychology is serious business. I remember when she was in high school, and came to us for a weekend visit. I suspected that she was on her way towards this field, as she was reading a book about multiple personality disorder, and was totally engrossed with the subject. She deliberately transferred from one college to SUNY Buffalo, as they had a better psychology program than where she was at the time.

Now, lest you think that all psychology majors are boring, Skinner box experimenting geeks, think again. She is a sharp, caring individual, and the one thing that this major has given her is the ability to do an internship in a sort of residential psych facility. It gives her some real world experience, as well as, I would hope, remove any naiveties she may have regarding the real world. She also has a wicked sense of humor, as do her psych major peers. She told me that the undergrad psych association she belongs to have made t-shirts emblazoned with the following on the back of them:

"FREUD - IF IT'S NOT ONE THING, IT'S YOUR MOTHER."

I think that I will give her one of these when she graduates next year......(see below.)