They Say Everything's Better The Second Time Around . . .

So I went back for more!
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I returned (with Southern bells on) to “the scene of the crime” to “summer love” the “Apple of my Eye” just a little bit more. And I followed my passion for true Southern Gentlemen directly to the spot on 55th and 3rd where they cultivate a northern variety. They are bowtie wearing, hand kissing, “It’s Ashley!” exclaiming, Old Fashioned making, “one for the ditch” & “kickin’ chicken” pouring . . . absolute dolls! The men of PJ Clarkes tell the best stories, serve the best burgers, and adore me just as much as I do them. “What is it with you?” Creighton asked me before I left. “You come in here. And you sit at the end of the bar, mindin’ your own business. An’ it’s like you’re some kinda flower every guy in here’s just drawn straight to.” What can I say? I’ve got family in New York now - a band of brothers who make me feel really special. Yep.
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On Saturday, my class on the Upper West Side left me a lady who lunched at Isabella’s. I had Skewered Chicken, Greek Salad & Lemon Scented Fries with Tzatziki Sauce and an ice-cold Coca Cola Classic. The well-groomed staff was efficient and attentive and I was in and out with time to smell the roses before my class was to resume. It was really quite the refreshing antithesis of all that its décor (and the line outside) first suggested. On Sunday I, FINALLY(!), had the Chilaquiles at Zarela that had eluded me on two previous trips. They were divine!
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“Her visage should be enshrined on some denomination of the peso for what she has done to wise up Americans to the notion that Mexican cuisine possesses far more substance than what gets rolled in a burrito”-New York Magazine
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And when asked which sauce I preferred, I heard the ghost-like voice of an Albuquerque cabbie in my ear say “Krees-mas” and I requested both. By Tuesday, when a downtown schlep to the Seastreak had just about whipped me . . . it was “Krees-mas” in July Eve! I discovered $5.00 margaritas at El Parador (the oldest Mexican Restaurant in the city) complete with bendy straws. Now - I was tired from hauling rolling suitcases, finding the Ferry, hunting an ATM for cash, and ready to see my friends in New Jersey. But this was the best Margarita that I have ever put in my mouth any day of the week. And the next day “Krees-mas” just kept on coming.
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Beth and Pete Sillen (invite courtesy of Amy Hellis) were my gracious hosts. Their boys Jake & Henry were my personal chef and court jester (respectively). And Toby (the largest German Shorthaired Pointer I have EVER seen) was my love bug. Fair Haven was just precious! The children ride their bikes to school, a walk to the river is a 5 minute stroll, and lemonade stands are the “local bars.” I had Lobster, Montrachet & Pequillo Pepper Quesadillas at Langosta, saw the home of Springsteen’s Madame Marie at Asbury Park, and licked ice cream off my fingers at Nagles Apothecary. But the TOAST of New Jersey . . . was a little dinner party that Beth hosted at Copper Canyon. We were in the perfect alcove. Hand painted silks stretched above us, ambient light glowed around us . . . not to mention the Tequila tasting! Mary Carmen was truly a kindred spirit. Laughing, asking questions and (every now and then) jotting notes in a little red book and saying “I want to learn everything I can!” We are . . . two peas. My Jersey Holiday was a gift from two once-babysitters, now-treasured friends – Amy & Beth.
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After a hop, skip and a jump back to the city I was settling into the Loews Regency on Park. As far as simple pleasures go this is one stop shopping. Lemonade in the lobby, ice cold apples, and THE most amazing shower I have ever encountered. After my friend Jess arrived, I changed into Yoga pants and a sequined tank and we headed to “dance class.” On the way I popped into Kate’s Paperie and almost lost my mind. After that I had a Caramel Fleur de Sel Macaron at Madeleine Patisserie . . . and that’s pretty much all she wrote for my sanity. Macarons, for the “Sex & the City” lovers, are what Charlotte is arranging when she overhears the ladies at the singles mixer say “all that’s left are the fatties and the baldies” . . . and she looks across the room . . . and Harry proposes. Fitting (I think) because the only thing I’d RATHER have than a Macaron a la Madeleine IS a diamond. After that we sugar-rushed it on over to Sheila Kelley’s S-Factor class. O Magazine & Self agree with me . . . You’ve just gotta try it!
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"Taking Sheila Kelley's S Factor classes makes you feel like you have a secret, a really great secret that gives you confidence in everything you do and gives you an edge that makes you feel special."
Allison Janney, Actress, "The West Wing"a
And then the next day I got on a bus and headed to Kripalu for an Independent Women’s Day Celebration! I started the weekend with a midnight hike. The wet grass between my toes and steam rising up off the mountains to greet a great big beautiful Berkshire Moon was exhilarating. Brunch the next morning of Miso Soup, Millet & Quinoa Cream, Summer Roasted Vegetable Frittata, & Oatmeal Ginger Scones with Hawthorne Valley Yogurt & fresh Maple Syrup was organically decadent. And then the homework. The Homework. That homework set the stage for the sort of memories that shape you. The assignment read: Do something that scares you. Take a baby step in the direction of your fears and grease the wheel for spinning past what stands between you and your desires. Let’s Practice!
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And that, my dears, is EXACTLY what we did.
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When one “sister” talked our way into the Diana Krall concert I was definitely out of my comfort zone. But then I noticed that the lady who was letting us in had a big smile on her face. When another “sister” sat down on a blanket & accepted a glass of wine I was even further outside the comfy. But then our new friends were thanking us for stopping by as we walked away. The aha “fireworks” were starting to go off for me well before dark. So by the time the actual fireworks were over . . . I Was high-as-a-kite on adrenaline & well into planning a late night swim!
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I have never experienced anything as beautiful and lovely as the six of us swimming together that night. The black water, the moonlight on our “alabaster thighs” (as Jim Dear described it when I told him) . . . it was the sort of magic that made me feel as if the “heart-throbs of the ancient Greeks” as Helen Keller once put it, were coursing through my own veins. I surprised the girls afterwards with a thermos of freshly-brewed Chai Tea and was honorably crowned . . . The Martha Stewart of Bad Girls. And we marched back to Kripalu single file and giddy as elementary school girls. Even now that I’m back . . . the memory has a silent move quality to it.
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After a weekend among some of the most AMAZING women . . . an Olympic Gold Medalist, a rising star on the music scene, a dear friend . . . this aspiring (New York Times Best Selling) Author reflected on the week from a hammock atop the Hudson Hotel with a Fruity Pebbled Pinkberry in hand . . .
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What was THE TOAST of my WHOLE trip? Stay tuned . . . !!!
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aS


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