As gentrification turns even the seediest of neighborhoods of Manhattan into trendy, unaffordable hot spots and Brooklyn into a cool, pricey hipster haven, there is one borough that does not seem to be getting the same amount of love. Once a coveted getaway for upwardly mobile families who wanted to escape the plight of 1970s Manhattan, raise kids, and have a backyard and front lawn, Queens is perhaps moving in the opposite direction when it comes to progress. Though still heavily residential and housing one of the most diverse populations in the country, the area seems to be missing out on the growth appropriated to other boroughs. Instead, efforts to revitalize Queens have been superficial, at best, and have not really demonstrated a strong commitment to preserving its cultural institutions, amenities, and unique historical landmarks.
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This year, I was fortunate enough to work in midtown for my summer internship around many iconic New York City landmarks. With a mandatory hour lunch break and relatively beautiful weather for most of June and July (and then it got hot...like I-want-to-die hot), I took advantage of this time to go exploring in the city. My spontaneous adventures have led me to the New York Public Library where I not only did research for my history thesis, but also saw some Alexander Hamilton documents and the original stuffed animals that inspired A.A. Milne’s beloved Winnie the Pooh; Broadway in Bryant Park where I stood stupidly star-struck four feet away from Sierra Boggess; the Princeton Club/Williams Club where I got a personal tour from a sweet Williams alum; and even a street fair where I spent over an hour’s wage on cute muscle tees and zeppole.
Yet, nothing was more embarrassing and sadly hilarious as my ordeal through the labyrinth that is Grand Central Terminal. Long story short: I, a native New Yorker, alum from Stuyvesant High School, student at Williams College, managed to get lost for thirty minutes. Here is the story. The visit to Grand Central was entirely unplanned. It had been a muggy, overcast day. Thinking that rain would be improbable (mistake number one), I left the office to eat outside and then go for a nice stroll. However, not even five minutes into my lunch break, menacing dark grey clouds rolled overhead and unleashed an onslaught of rain. So I ducked quickly into an indoor public space on 42nd Street to take cover. After eating my lunch, I was just settling in to read a magazine when a hobo walks through the door and sits maybe three feet away from me. The smell was horrific! The poor guy just reeked of bad BO and probably weeks (years?) of no showering, only made mustier by the rain. I felt bad about changing my seat so I packed up and headed back into the rain. Standing on the curb, I noticed that Grand Central was right across the street. Perfect, here was the opportunity for a new adventure! Although I have been there in passing, I never fully explored this prominent station. I rushed over and headed inside. In Julie & Julia, a young woman, frustrated with her provincial life (to be fair, she worked at the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation and took calls from 9/11 victims complaining about the plans for Ground Zero), challenges herself to cook all of Julia Child’s 524 recipes in a year. The movie is one of my favorites, starring Amy Adams and Meryl Streep, who are both hilarious and relatable in their respective roles, as the 21st century Julie Powell and the legendary chef extraordinaire Julia Child. However, this comedy is based on a true story. The real-life Julie Powell did put herself up to the challenge and blogged about the experience, which she eventually transformed into a book- seriously, that is like major goals for me! Yes, it was a stunt, which Julia Child even pointed out, but let’s face it, spectators love stunts and challenges. And at the very least, her stunt was a lot safer than say the cinnamon challenge…well, there is the risk of cardiovascular disease from all the butter that goes into French cooking. Also, she did learn how to cook and got to eat some pretty good food (again, all that butter) for a whole year. Although Powell has had her share of critics, I personally was inspired by her story to craft my own challenge. The basic premise behind my project is to attempt some of NYC’s finest restaurant’s dishes in my own kitchen because, as you probably know, I love food, I love New York, and I am cheap. With YouTube, the Internet, and celebrity chefs releasing cookbooks, I want to know if you can recreate five-star food at home. Baseball is said to be America’s pastime and it is definitely a sport that many Americans fully invest in. They pledge their unfaltering loyalty to a specific team, usually their own regional one, and will follow the players through season after season of wins and losses. Ticker parades will greet World Series winners (but ironically rarely celebrate the return home of our soldiers abroad anymore). Avid fans of opposing or rival teams can even get into heated arguments and personal debates that cost friendships and relationships. Only in America will being a Red Sox fan in New York City potentially be grounds for a breakup with your significant other. Thankfully, I do not know this because of first-hand experiences.
I recently attended a major league baseball game for the very first time and was taken aback by the experience and the culture. For the record, I do not hate baseball as a sport and yes, I am familiar with the premise of the game and its basic rules. I know how you supposedly “score,” what counts as a strike, what counts as an out, how you get a walk, what is considered fowl, etc. – thank you very much, years of public school PE. Yet, for some reason, while I was not flat-out bored at the game, I did feel very uncomfortable and out of place at the stadium. New York Police Department Bill Bratton boldly, but realistically asserted that in today’s day and age, when it comes to the possibility of a terrorist attack in New York City, “it’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when.” This provoking statement shocked plenty, especially after the slew of tragedies happening worldwide, including the horrific attack at the Orlando nightclub right on American soil. However, Bratton is simply stating the obvious- New York City has always been and still is a target for any evildoer. The city is packed with people, supports much of the country’s economy, and is home to plenty of prominent landmarks. Not to mention, that New York City is far from a safe urban area. Crime still plagues our streets and mental illness remains a major issue for the city (actually our country, more generally). Thus, even if it is not ISIS that wrecks havoc on the Big Apple, a mentally unstable person will. The result will be the same- precious human lives lost and great tragedy. It probably is not fair to say that I like Japanese food when my experience with the cuisine has been confined to Chinese owned sushi joints. Nowadays, learning the art of making sushi is not that difficult. My family even owns a few rolling mats and have made sushi a few times, although our creations have never been all that pretty. There is also much more to the Japanese diet than raw fish. If anything, I have not even scraped the surface of sampling the culture’s specialty dishes. Since not all of us have the opportunity to travel to Japan to accomplish this, I decided to try celebrity chef Nobu Matsuhisa’s namesake restaurant in Tribeca for some high-end Japanese fare. Generally, I am not one to gravitate immediately to places opened by famous restaurateurs. Having eaten at a Jean-Georges restaurant and walked out unimpressed, I tend to see these brand name venues as being overrated and overpriced. Instead, I have a soft spot for up and coming young chefs, family-owned hole in the walls, and overlooked hidden gems. Sure, you can say I am a bit hipster when it comes to food. Nobu wounded up being an exception due to my longing to try more authentic Japanese food. Also, it did not hurt that the restaurant had stood the test of time and managed to turn heads in New York City, with one of the toughest restaurant industries in the world, for over twenty years. After a dinner there, I can understand its appeal, though I was a bit disappointed with the Restaurant Week selection for it left me hungrier than I expected. Some people study history and are interested in visiting museums and old homesteads. I study history and all I want to do is eat at historically significant old restaurants, like Delmonico’s. My father and I splurged on a dinner at Delmonico’s during Restaurant Week, a few years ago, about the time I was interning at the New-York Historical Society. Since the restaurant is famous for its prime cuts of steak, I told my dad that I wanted to go for the steak. I do love a good steak. That is probably the only thing holding me back from becoming a vegetarian. That and hamburgers! In reality, I wanted to go because of the history. Delmonico’s is arguably the first real restaurant in New York City. The original restaurant, which was located at the same site as its current day reincarnation, opened in 1837 under John and Peter Delmonico and totally transformed dining in America and turned eating into a leisurely and luxury activity, rather than just a biological necessity. Delmonico’s pioneered much of America’s traditional and classic menu items, such as baked Alaska, Manhattan clam chowder, Lobster Newburg, wedge salad, and my personal favorite, eggs benedict. The restaurant was a popular hangout spot for the city’s most esteemed residents and visitors. Anyone who was anyone partook a meal there, including former U.S. president Theodore Roosevelt, opera singer Jenny Lind, writer Charles Dickens, corrupt politician Boss Tweed, and even Queen Victoria. Twenty-four hours. To some, that is by far enough time in a day, especially if you are stuck with mundane and tedious work. However, for others, twenty-four hours is nowhere near enough time to get everything done. As a college student attending a demanding, prestigious institution like Williams College, I happen to fall in the latter camp. Much like my peers, I have interests that extend beyond homework and school. I want to take piano lessons, sing with my a cappella group, attend talks, shows, and concerts, and sometimes, just catch up on television. Even during the summer, what is supposed to be down time, I find myself still struggling to find extra hours to maximize my productivity, especially when my personal projects are coupled with a full-time ten-week internship.
Consequently, I have turned into an obsessive multi-tasker. Multi-tasking IS a good skill. In many jobs, you may be expected to manage various projects with overlapping due dates. You may have to take a phone call while working on a memo with a fast approaching deadline. However, I take multi-tasking out of the office and apply it religiously to my own life. At home, I will watch videos on my phone while I run on the treadmill, read books while I hula hoop, work on a DIY project while watching a movie, and listen to music while I do research for my thesis. I have gotten so used to it that I must have at least a few projects going at one time to feel at ease. Even as I write this article, I have ABC’s 20/20 on the television in front of me and am switching between typing away at this and reading my cousin’s blog. |
About this BlogA collection of random musings from the mind of a native New Yorker. Be sure to find everything from personal narratives, reviews, lists, and rants. SubscribeCategories
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