New York, New York: Stories of food and engagement

Central Park was the key to my plan for months. Ally and I would unite our travel ambitions earlier this year for that dizzying concrete jungle of New York City with fire in our guts for theater, top notch food, architecture and the best of all – a life lived together through experiences that materialize in a life’s worth of good stories.  In a blue velvet box, the inscription of Leo Diamond sewn into the top was a ring that would change our lives. Stowed away careful enough to not be frisked by the TSA nor be noticed by the eager to touch down on Manhattan soil in Ally, the engagement ring was transferred to my pocket in the room by sleight of hand – the best magicians trick of my life. 

New York City is overwhelming for first time visitors. Taxi horns and the hum of millions of souls echo through the canyons of skyscrapers, putting my beloved Chicago to shame by the first day of my vacation. Hand-in-hand, on occasion separating to snap a shot of the genius civic plan of Frederick Law Olmstead that is Central Park, Ally and I walked down the mall with ice cream in our hands. That is when I realized finding a private spot in a public place, swarming with people on a hot and humid day to being the Labor Day weekend wasn’t easy. Was I going to have chocolate on my face when I asked? What would be the ideal spot in that massive green escape? After walking over the Bow Bridge, a secluded wooded area with a steep rock hill spoke to me. Convincing Ally to risk life and limb to scale the rock face, we found ourselves thirty feet above the floor of the park and the nearby The Lake where the waters were graced with dozens of couple paddling along in rowboats under a hot, late summer sun. 

“Take off your glasses, Ally. I have something to ask you.”

Words that united our soul force that I cannot remember (most men don’t so it seems) forced me down on one knee to present that blue velvet box from my pocket. A ring shaped like a slight curve of the stars spiral galaxy in diamond form was before her. 

“Will you marry me?”

And did she say yes? I sum this all up in my facebook status that blew up my account with likes and comments those following days. 

“I don't always propose in Central Park but when I do... Ally says ‘yes!!!’”

This edition of my blog has to be a summary based one for how could I write about New York without highlighting the food. In another blog post to come later this week, I will write separately about certain cultural elements of the Big Apple that cannot be missed and a time at Ellis Island that had me re-engage with my ancestors. But onto the goods…food with pictures to make you jealous below!

Grays Papaya – A hot dog institution in the West Side of Manhattan, I would call this corner operation on 72^nd street “A meal on the cheap.” Their dogs run about $1.50 and come with New York style sauerkraut. A little spicy brown mustard on top will do the trick on that tasty dog. The papaya drink left a chalky residue in my mouth – perhaps not thing to have after walking two miles.  Chicago style dogs are better – sorry New York but so is our pizza.

Bouchon Bakery at Rockefeller Center – Chef Thomas Keller has built a higher echelon of culinary excellence across America. Ally and I indulged in a top three meal of our life in Bouchon at the Venetian in Las Vegas. The bakery has goodies of simple decadence in open glass cases alongside small bites of quiche and croissants for breakfast and hunger suppressing deli sandwiches on baguettes. Ally tore into a peanut butter cookie with Bouchon peanut butter spread into the inside like a certain blue flurry Sesame Street character. I flipped for a strawberry macaroon with fresh jam inside as well as rekindled my childhood love for Hostess Ho-Ho’s with Bouchon version called a Bouchon Oh-Oh. A few days after our first visit, we stopped back in for two breakfast croissants with ham and cheese and a piece of buttery, flakey almond brioche. 

Five Napkin Burger – On a recommendation from my sister-in-law Heather on her visits to the Big Apple, Ally and I crossed over to the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood and sat down at the Five Napkin location on the corner of 45^th and 9^th. Just try and look at their featured burgers on their site and not create a pile of drool in envy. After a struggle of lamb kofta or the original, I went with the first creation and wasn’t disappointed one bit. My request of medium couldn’t have been cooked more perfectly – I mean, to the second accuracy with pink and bits of red meat inside with a juiciness rarely experienced. The 10oz ground chuck patty was made complete with rosemary aioli, caramelized onions, gruyere cheese on a soft white roll. Ally still dreams of her avocado ranch burger. The fries were good enough to compete with any other pomme frittes expert. 

The National – Located on the ground floor of our hotel, The Benjamin, this creation of Iron Chef Geoffrey Zakarian services brunch, lunch and dinner with a fairly set menu. The white trimmed walls and chestnut floors and table décor is a hybrid of European cafes and classic upper middle to upper class American dining rooms. Though I wasn’t impressed by their dinner (the spicy chicken soup was inventive enough), their brunch was the treat. Ally ordered an excellent beef hash that tasted and more closely resembled Cantonese stir fry. I devoured the carb explosion that was pancakes with blueberry compote, Vermont maple syrup and candied hazelnuts with vanilla butter patties.  The tea, a mere cloth bag of box tea, floating in scalding water, was overpriced and underprepared. 

Katz’s Deli – Since 1888, Katz’s deli on the lower east side of Manhattan has been serving locals, tourists, immigrants from Europe to Asia with staple deli creations that will annihilate any competition. Once inside, you are handed a ticket to register your food behind the counter. Don’t lose this otherwise you have to pay a $50 dollar fine and all in cash. If the capacity of Katz’s dining room, also made famous by the orgasm scene in When Harry, Met Sally, is 389 people, there had to be 388 in that madhouse. At long service counter, five people deep all the way down, you order your sandwich fast in this establishment that is the embodiment of impatient, chip on their shoulder New Yorkers. The genuine charm continues (no sarcasm here) as we crammed into communal style seating with total strangers. The thick cut slices (like with corned beef and cabbage) of the famous one pound pastrami sandwich are out of this world good thanks to the pepper bark that holds in all that smoke flavor. The spicy brown mustard (different at each deli in some way) is a must on the sandwich. Katz’s steak style fries shouldn’t be anything special but they are. Whatever they fry them in is amplified by the kosher salt that is sprinkled on top. 

Les Halles – The French brasserie on Park Avenue in the Flatiron District has a reputation of excellence because of how famous their former executive chef, writer and Travel Channel star Anthony Bourdain, has become. Ally and I spent three hours at a window-side table next to the bar enjoying a meal that rivaled Keller’s Bouchon as one of the best of our life. The Les Halles cocktails of St Germain, soda water and champagne were consumed by the two of us four times over. The crown jewel of the visit was a medium cooked prime rib that was sliced off of the bone at a tableside wooden cutting board. A hearty side of fries that were robust and crunchy on the outside, creamy on the inside completed the plate. That steak – oh, that steak – rich with flavor, was only to be taken to the next level by a side of béarnaise sauce and small salad to cleanse the palate. We ended with meal with tiny cream puffs stuffed with ice cream, covered in dark chocolate sauce and another round of drinks. At that moment, the bill already high, I figured a glass of Lagavullin, a 16yr Islay single malt scotch was the appropriate way to round out the night. 

Sprinkles Cupcakes – Known at the cupcake store that revolutionized an industry, Sprinkles has cupcakes that in my estimation beats out the already excellent cross-town competitor Magnolia Bakery.  The champion of my sweet tooth was the smore cupcake, burned marshmallow on top, chocolate cake in the center and a rounded bottom of graham cracker. A bite from Ally’s strawberry cupcake was enough for me to admit, even against the truth of her bakery skills at home, that Sprinkles is at the top of the medal stand for cupcake stores in America. 

Carnegie Deli – Our last meal in New York before we taxied over to LaGuardia was at sometimes called the 7^th Avenue deli, better known as Carnegie Deli, in operation since 1937.  With locals and tourists filling that tuna can sized dining room, Carnegie churns out sandwiches at almost all hours of the day, open way into the early morning. We bet against the size of our stomachs by ordering the Woody Allen, made thinly sliced pastrami and corned beef Tower of Babel on rye. Within minutes we gave up trying to eat it like a normal sandwich and began using our hands to devour the sandwich with squirts of spicy brown mustard. The pickles, rye bread and meat were superior at Katz’s.  Let us be honest though - Carnegie is still one of the best deli’s you will walk away from feeling like you entered into a blissful meat coma.