Spa for shoes and A&F

It is monday today and Prince has meetings all day and so, I am left alone.
The sky is grey and it is raining.
Goes with my mood, as I am again pretty blue, because of my spots and blotches. All I see, when I look into the mirror is some kind of monster. I think I am going GAGA?
Lady Gaga is not alone no more...


So I surf the net for some solution called DERMATOLOGIST.
There are of course endless options in such a city as NY. I opt for one with good reviews and get an appointment for tomorrow at 4.15.
Somehow just the idea of some magical Doctor telling me all is fine and wuooopsssss, I am perfect makes the blue change color into a soft pink.
Ahhhh, now I can relax.


1. matter on my list- my Ferragamo boots need tightening at the 'Leather spa'. (recommendation from the French sales man)
So I head uptown, looking for a small dungy sohemaker, finding a real luxurious shoe and bag hospital instead. It is just huge and there are hundreds of brown bags in the shelfs and wet delivery guys storming in and out clutching bags of re-vitalized foot wear.
Women and shoes, it is a love story.
If we love a pair, we will wear it till it falls apart, sending it to the Doctors to be fixed and stitched and rejuvenated. I guess, leather spa is the best description there is.


A fashionable lady, with an air of snobbism and something else that makes me uneasy (just a feeling, I tell myself) puts me on a pedestal and starts pegging my shoes with silver folder holders. I now look like some futuristic Clara Loft, quite sexy!!!
Than the bill arrives and I am shocked.
Stuttering I repeat the price, but all I get is an eyebrows up and some sort of a grin.
"It's the best place in town, it costs"
138 $, includes also the adding of rubber soles, which is useful if one does not want to ice-skate in slippery roads. The lady smiles sweetly and I pay, cash.
Since the boots are pretty high quality, the price to fix them seems fair enough (I convince myself...it is of course NEW YORK). But I also own shoes that cost no more than a 100 bucks, and than this amount would be very painful.
LOVE... priceless, isn't it?
"They will be done thursday afternoon",
just before we leave for the airport. She smiles and off I venture into the grey NY rain..


So, if you need a good repair for an expensive baby, this is the place. But be warned about the prices!!!

LEATHER SPA
10 west 55th



Opening my umbrella, I listen to the sound the falling raindrops make on my 'roof'.
I love the rain.
It is cleansing and utterly romantic.
Maybe not with all the fellow New-Yorkians, who push and rush and walk into me, but still, there is magic and a feeling of pure joy sores true my spine. I should never forget how much beauty there is in the world and I must remind myself of this, when I am down.


Looks like I am on 5th Ave and pretty close to my brothers favorite clothing line, AF.
Abercrombie & Fitch.





There is a line outside and the music is hammering over the soothing sound of raindrop-dance.
Not too excited, but one must suffer for Xmas wishes, I enter the club scene.
The shop is beautiful and the advertisement-painting on the walls reminds of ancient cave art.. It is just amazing, at least the bit I can see in the semi-darkness.
Brother wants a jacket, named after my favorite armchair, ADIRONDACK.

This is the chair also located at my favorite place, called BEACH

And this is the Jacket called ADIRONDACK. WHY? I have no idea, but I think that any hot A&F model wearing this one, would suit an Adirondack and the lay back mood that somehow goes with it... All you need to imagine now is the sound of the waves and a cup of hot wine or hot chocolate...

I push my way true the bodies that come in all shapes and sizes. Totally impressing. A lady passes me, that must be way into in her late 70's. She is followed by her even elder husband, holding on to a walking stick. I stare at them, my mouth wide open. WOW. I like to be like them, when I am that old. But I have my doubts, as already now, still somewhat young, I have a hard time to find my way around this place. I am lost in here, and I can not find anything. It may be fun and cool and stuff, but goshhhh, I am totally disorientated. Music and sounds swirl around me, making me dizzy and I am getting hot rushes, trying to find this jacket in dimly lid cupboards...Will I faint into one of those model boy's well shaped arms??? Not a bad idea...
HELP!!!

A stud comes to my rescue finding the chair-jacket, which now I may know why it is named ADIRONDACK. It is soooo heavy!!!
There are cash registers on all 4 levels, but only 2 are working and so I must join the lane of dedicated A&F devotees. It is a long and heavy wait!
40 minutes later, and a serious arm ache from holding the chair-jacket I am done and out into the rainy NY bustle. It takes some time to find a cab and I head home, exhausted!
All my good intentions to raid every shop for XMAS gifts are deflated into nothing, but some writing, tea and Lindt chocolates.


Prince returns pretty late and seems equally in need of rest.
So we stay in.
Reading, writing and listening to christmas music.
I order a hanger steak, with spinach and broccoli and a bottle of red for the two of us and we snuggle into our Frette covered bed.
The steak is surprisingly good and off I drift into fairyland...

Goodman's, my new found love...

This is not happening!!!!

I just finished my daily post and pressed something and now it is all gone!!!

I could CRY!!!

And so I do.

4 hours of hard and dedicated work gone. Disappeared. Vanished!
Buffffff!!!

Again, poor Prince needs to listen to my sobs and gets told off, when he tries to calm me.

He advises to write everything on word before, like a pre-write. I guess he has a point, but here I am, back at the blog page, as somehow I write better on this page, or so I think.

So I will try to go back now.

Excuse if I will be bad, as I am to busy sobbing and sniffing in our hotel bed.

While I noisily do schniffffff, I watch this 'save now' button going on and on, which means it is saving all the time, so what has happened to mine?

Not my day. Not my month. Not my year!

So where was I? NY... and a new morning in shopping, restaurant hopping capital.

Prince gets up early to go for a breakfast meeting. I am left alone with a mirror that brings me down and an apple that brings me up. (not when it erases though!!!)

I choose to stick to apple and write. Better to up than down.

Around noontime Prince is ready and takes me for another shopping spree on 5th Ave.

Tomy Hillfiger is our 1.stop and I want to take a snoop, as he usually does have some cute dresses.

The store is very impressive and huge compared to what I remember from the past.

It does remind me a bit of Ralph Lauren's mood, though, just a bit younger. We admire the funky disco ball X-Mas tree and I disappear upstairs, level 4, for girly stuff. There is a whole 50's-60's inspired section that is sooooooo "DOWN WITH LOVE", one of my favorite Good feel movies, and a must see for all Good Feel lovers!

Just think bold bright colors, big buttons and stewardess meets waitress look.

Naughty and sexy and fun.

I fall for a lollipop pink satin dress, which is JUSTSOOOO BARBIE.

Who would ever think, that I would ever even consider trying such bubble gum creation, but I do and Prince is just estatic about his life size doll-friend...

I get a turtleneck in the same candy pink cashmere thread (just in case) and another dress, one in brown suede, much more subtle and less...well... less

There is a special promotion on and we pay barely half price, not a bad catch!

They also have a promotional free embroidery service today, but time is ticking away and so many more shops are calling us.

So on we march, admiring the sparkle and the bright blue sky of 5th Ave.

Next stop: Bergdorf Goodman.

But first some replenishing at the inhouse cafe, if there is any?

Yes, there is, the "GOODMAN'S CAFE" on the 7th floor.

7th heaven could also be it's name, as the cafe is the most unexpected surprise.

A lovely fizzy mocktail of art-deco-baroque and fine kitch, spotting a view that's priceless and a crowd, even though mostly female, highly adorable!

I feel transfered into a movie setting, plunging into our baby-blue Cinderella Chairs (no idea what they are called) we savour a pumpkin and a fennel soup, both divine.

There is a woman next table, dressed in a taylored red 40's dress, wearing a elaborate hat and peep-toes. She could be part of the decoration and we enjoy her unique extravagance while sipping organic tea. I must be careful not to get too sentimental, as this setting just makes me want to escape into the past. Where did all this elegance go, I wonder so often. When did baggy pants become the norm for this beautiful wonder called WOMAN?

Where did all the skirts go, all the gloves, all the hats and shy smiles and that mistery that make us what we are?

TIME MACHINE? ANY mad professor out there, looking to send a female into the yesterday? Day before yesterday?

I AM HERE!

Totally smitten with 'Godman's' (good-better-goodman's!) we take the lift down to dress level and do some browsing. Looks like we finally got on the right track.

Prince finds half a dozen of dresses he thinks Santa would like to give me.

I must explain something here, before I go on.

Prince would never be as un-romantic as this, taking me to choose my own X-Mas gifts.

He would wander off, always, surprising me with things he had found, fallen for and bought.

Impressivly, 95% of those gift-adventures have been a success, the rest either too big or not my thing.

But even a bad or unfitting surprise is enough to make a girls eye shine.

Well, Fallen Cinderella, now we choose together.

We decide on 4 simple cocktail dresses, red, blue and lavender by Valentino and Oscar de la Renta.

Nothing too exciting, but nice simple evening solutions, that could also pass a daytime invitation.

Santa, you shouldn't have...

Goodman's closes at 6 tonight and it is way past 7 when we exit the shop. It is a great feeling, like Goodman's was open just for us. But it was the sewing lady that took her time to refit the Santa gifts.

And now the Prince wants his share: APPLE!!!

Let's go and visit the glass cube apple shop, open 24h!

The see-trough box like construction is not very stimulating to me, but Prince is overwhelmed.

I love the eaten apple moon though, hanging over the big apple.

Very appropiate, they should market it.

It is a ZOO!

There are sooooo many people... kids, dogs, grannies, dudes and equally many apple helpers.

Glad in red, they could also be Santa's helpers.

Apple, Santa...  maybe it is all connected?

I know enough people that just want anything 'apple' from Santa.

So if they are one company... ??? It would make great sense. Monopole. Santa owns the gift production too?

Ok, ok, maybe I am tired...
Let's go and play some Wall-e with the little ones, while Prince can browse virtual heaven.

Prince buys one more MAC pro laptop (one more to go around...his XXL office table only! has 4 so far) and then we head for the ultimate cheesy ride with an a horse carriage at Central Park.
After countless visits to the city, we have never done this and Xmas seems to be just the perfect time.

I get the luxury of choosing the prettiest-goofiest, as you wish, horse and I take my liking to BARNEY.

A strong Belgian with a huge(penis?...gosh... it just peed!) and even more huge hoofs.

The driver, dressed in period costume and half a meter of rasta, let's me feed him carrots and he makes the cutest sounds and faces.

So Barney and Peter (rasta man) take us for a spin in Central Park.

The moon is almost full- 2 more nights to go, and Peter is a serious movie buff and knows all the films made or inspired in Central Park.
Prince is singing Arthure's Theme by Cristopher Cross

I also learn, that every tree in the park was brought here, man-made - all of it. Who would have thought?

I had always believed, that the park was the only original piece of the city left...

Getting some water from the Bretzel man

20 minutes and 34$ (not much at all) later we walk around the area looking for dinner options. The first place we pass, an Italian, looks inviting enough and so we give it a try.

What looked like a 'cafe kind of place' from the outside turns into a cozy and warm place inside, another surprise.

The food is again - DIVINE, the wine list one of the most impressive I have seen in long time and the glassweare so beautiful that the Prince inquires about it.

Looks like the owner, from and in Verona, has his own glass factory.

Very fine taste one must admit.


Antica Bottega del Vino


7 East 59th
10022
NY


Tel: 212 2233028
www.bottegadelvinonyc.com

Cantucci  and Vin Santo to finish and back to  rising apple to pick up a new MAC baby. (they need time to set it up and stuff it with all the software)

 A girl dreaming of apples

Boys and their toys...

Nighty night

Christopher Cross - Arthur's Theme

Once in your life you find her
Someone that turns your heart around
And next thing you know you're closing down the town
Wake up and it's still with you
Even though you left her way across town
Wondering to yourself, "Hey, what've I found?"
When you get caught between the Moon and New York City
I know it's crazy, but it's true
If you get caught between the Moon and New York City
The best that you can do ......
The best that you can do is fall in love

Arthur he does as he pleases
All of his life, he's mastered choice
Deep in his heart, he's just, he's just a boy
Living his life one day at a time
And showing himself a really good time
Laughing about the way they want him to be
When you get caught between the Moon and New York City
I know it's crazy, but it's true
If you get caught between the Moon and New York City
The best that you can do .....
The best that you can do is fall in love

When you get caught between the Moon and New York City
I know it's crazy, but it's true
If you get caught between the Moon and New York City
The best that you can do .....
The best that you can do is fall in love 

New York wakening

I did sleep very well, never mind the never-ending hummm and biep-biep-biep of the city, and so did the Prince in full armor! Who needs to take off cloth anyhow?


I call front desk and ask for a bigger room and luckily enough they have one, so we can move later. Great!


That happieness does not last long though and I have another breakdown when I face my spotty red face in the sunny bright bathroom/cupboard. Crying like a baby, poor Prince is trying to cheer me up. I tell him to get lost and to leave me alone with my misery. So he leaves, sweet Prince, and I am alone with me and I and the red mirror image. I cry another half an hour, sobbing a big fat sorry for myself until I get the better of it and try to focus on real issues and worries in the world. My vanity is an unhealthy and ugly habbit, but I know it won't go away any time soon. Better to accept - it will stay with me forever!


Bummer.


Dressing while crying I try to make the best of me. Not too bad, once dressed nicely and hair brushed and some spots covered somewhat by my 'not magic at all concealer'. (guess, only some days the magic is working full blast)

I make it down to follow Prince on a walking tour uptown. Gosh, I have forgotten how it feels to be surrounded by clouds of human bodies, walking, talking, pushing, smiling, screaming, biking... The windows are calling out to us... BUY ME... BUY ME... YOU NEED ME... YOU WANT ME... Do I? Everything is dressed in sparkle and glitter to get the mood into the pockets of change. Consumer world, at it's best, even in troubled times.
What I do need are boots. Since all my cloth (only my favorite ones, naturally) and shoes got stolen by the Moroccan mafia (that's what the french police said) couple of months ago at the beautiful Cote Azure, I am left shoeless. (and speechless for that matter, as that 'Mafia' raided our car at day time, in a not too quiet village square... maybe that is how the village makes a living? Reselling all the goods at the weekend flea market? Must be a good business concept, especially in the summer months, when the place is crawling with a well heeled crowd, naive and off-guard because totally enchanted by the beautiful South of France... ahhhh... just like me... )
BUT
I have to be honest though, this year's footwear fashion is definitely not my sole of joy. The heels are way too odd and too high (even for a heel fetish like myself) and the over the knee thing is sexy, but in confined rooms only. (with the Prince on his knees)
That is me, old style elegance ONLY turns my toes.


We try the first shoppers heaven - Saks. The foot section is overwhelming and the display lovely. Like pastry on peddels, each shoe competes for attention of the potential buyer. Women flutter around like doves in a cage, feathers up and shiny. But from all those candy- like creations, nothing is to my liking. Prince is as unexcited as me and somewhat shocked by the pure ugliness ( as he calls it) of this season. But somehow he does find a gorgeous pair of boots, of course also one of the much higher priced ones, since Sergio Rossi is the maker. Brown, elegant and simple, they are just what I love... Who am I to say NO?

Moroccan Mafia be aware, I am refilling my bags!!!


A quick bite at the Saks' cafe, leaves our tummies filled, yet not too satisfied. Not that I expected much from a shopping mall restaurant, but let's say I expected more, afterall it is SAKS, not SUCKS. (sorry)

Salvatore Ferragamo, more than just a designer:

Born in a poor Neapolitan village, called Bonito, Salvatore longed to make shoes since early age. So at 13! he opened his 1. shop and at 15 he left for Boston to work with his brother. A year later he was already working for Hollywood, altering badly fit cowboy boots for cheap Western's.
Not long before he became the shoe maker of the stars and in 1927 he returned to Italy, for better quality and craftsmenship, outfitting the 'beau monde' from homeland.
In his autobiography Shoemaker of Dreams, Ferragamo himself divided women into three categories, according to foot size: 

Cinderella (small) I AM a CINDERELLA, but I am a 38.5???

Venus (medium) 

Aristocrat (large)

"The Cinderella, I have observed, is essentially a feminine person, a lover of jewels and fus, who must be in love to be truly happy. (the last bit is for sure me... I can not live without L-O-V-E)

"Venus is usually of great beauty, glamour, and sophistication, yet under her glittering exterior she is often essentially a home body loving the simple things of life. (sounds like me...)

The Aristocrats are sensitive, even moody, but possess a great depth of understanding."

So, I must be a VENUSELLA???

Who are you?

So, obviously,  Salvatore Ferragamo is our next stop and they do have beautifulllll things. Looks like not every fashion house needs to be a donkey to the seasonal taste. There is a special room called CREATIONS with replicates of original Ferragamo masterpieces for starlets of the yesterday. The black and white Viatica court shoes made for Marilyn Monroe in "Some like it hot" are simply divine and more art work than fashion piece. And yes they do come with a very hefty 'fine' and I think to put such masterpiece below the ankle area is pretty much a crime.

Same goes for those famous flats that walked Audrey into Tiffany's at morning hour.

Ohhh, but they are all magnificent... The french sales man is also doing his very best to make me linger and linger and... I decide on a simple pair of boots, black and medium-low heel for every day walking and I insist (to the Frenchmen's despair) that those extremely sensual over the knees and laced in the back boots are not needed. I admit, I just changed my opinion about the over-knee thing, as this pair is the definition of a graceful sex-kitten. And than I fall for this amazingly well cut grey coat. Interesting lines, yet simple, it is the understated perfection and a coat that can last a small eternity. It is time for a new coat, anyhow, as I wear my one treasured coat ( a gift from Prince) for the last 4 years(imagine) and time is now showing just a bit. My beloved PRADA coat with the velvet bow has been everywhere with me and only escaped the Maroccoan Mafia, because I had stuffed it into the trunk of my car. It is one of those pieces, that you put on and look like a million. Perfectly cut, it almost seems taylor-made and never lets me down. I lost it once at London airport and almost lost it myself, but some nice lady found it and 3 days later it arrived at home, safe and sound. The last disaster stroke, when  I had pulled it from our rental-home cupboard (old and humid) and hungry moths had savaged the velvet pieces. Thank god I have the best seamstress in Lisbon, who did magic in 24 hours.


Inspired by so much black and white romance Prince takes me to Tiffany's where he asks for breakfast. 


No breakfast, no dinner the guard smiles. But maybe some jewelry? I am not big on 'decoration'... -yet! - the Prince reminds me. Maybe still too young, I have a tendency to feel like a christmas tree, as soon I put on more than some pearls or a pair of earrings. But taste for luxurious sparkle can be acquired and so I browse for some inspiration. No, nothing. Too new, too modern, too common. I much prefer vintage pieces, things with that little something. The best place for treasures of that sort is the BAZAR in Istanbul. There are some dealers, with rooms no bigger than a shoe box (or our bathroom at 70 Park), that will open the Aladin safe-cave and tenderly unwrap specimens of unimaginable beauty (and price), yet still cheaper than on 5th Ave.


Bottega Veneta, another favorite of mine has not much to get me excited. I try one lovely ashen rose dress with a strange boob construction, which make mine look like double volcanoes. I need a boob-job, or a different dress?!
Prada, also not my season.


I loose interest and so does Prince and we enjoy the christmas decoration instead. The gigantic star on 5th is magical, I just hope it is secured well!


Time to go home, (our new room is bright and big and since higher up, much quieter) as we have a sushi reservation at 8.30, someplace booked by the concierge again. We do have full confidence in her by now.
It is Koi, and it is just around the corner, in walking distance again.
We march off and arrive in a rather club-like place which reminds me of something... Digging up my clouded memory it slowly hits me. KOI... yes, Koi... wasn't there a boy, who did some work for Koi, in LA, yes... Ahhhhhh, lover's-dose from the past...


Koi
Bryant park Hotel
40 West 40th
10018
NY


Tel: 212 921 3330
www.koirestaurant.com




Food is pretty good, but I am not excited. Maybe it is too noisy and too much of a club, I just don't fancy even my portion of sashimi.
The lychee Martini on the other hand goes down pretty deliciously.
And than it happened: Waiter walks by and I get a whiff, a whiff of something better than Tiffany's or even almost Salvatore. TRUFFELS. Oh my, paradise on earth, I am a 'trufflefile'.
On my hungry request I learn that this is a truffle salmon something and I am shaking my head, giving Prince that special- OH PLEASE... PRETTY PLEASE... pout that always seems to work. The waiter is kind enough to reveal a praised Italian not far from here and with a bit of luck, they will be still open, he smirks. Paying and flying out the door (did I mention that there is even a nightclub, downstairs across the toilets) we catch the 1. cab and head for DESSERT.
The place is called Felidia and looks a bit dodgy, but rather real. There are still some guests and I am smiling from ear to ear. But the waiter shakes his head, no more food tonight! SORRY! I put my head on Prince's shoulder doing that pout without thinking and seems like that waiter is no waiter at all, but the owner and he waves us in. (pout when you want to shout!)


White truffle menu?
$$$$ (cough)
Got to be tagliatelle.
This one is made from 30 egg yolks I learn from the proud waiter, who talks to me in Russian. (do I look Russian?)
We order a vintage Barolo, 1990 which is not as good as one would expect. The color fades into a light brick and for me also the taste seems to fade. Of course I am no wine expert, but striving to get there.
But I can be the truffle and pasta expert for tonight and what can I say. Any word would be lost in such pure moment of palate pleasure.
MHHHHHHHHHH
Yummmmmmmmm
MHHHHHHHHHH

That is it. My food expertise stops there.

Let's call it a night, it has been a full day and 2 dinners is certainly our exhaustingly first...

Felidia
243 east 58th
10022
NY


Tel: 212 758 1479
www.felidia-nyc.com







www.lidiasitaly.com
Felidia belongs to Lidia, check her out on facebook... That's mama cooking. I love her!!!

gone with the dessert winds...

Early rising,

Up at 6 am to go into the building next door, to leave our golden DNA in a small cup labeled with our name and date. Last day, no better even - last hours, minutes(!) at the Ranch and I am honestly happy to leave.
FOOD. Good honest food. Oh, I can't wait. Will go now, to have Dracula suck some blood out of me (SCARRED!!!) and then one more 'luscious' breakfast, consisting of sad looking fruit and my hard fought for carrot juice. And than out. FREEDOM at last again. Oh, and not to forget, I will go and pick up my clay bowl, which I made 2 days ago in PETRA'S artsy school. Petra is a German Expat, who looks more like a native Indian than a Native. Beautiful and shiny she is an inspirational being and I am happy that our paths have crossed, even in such a short time. If you ever make it to Canyon Ranch, IF... you like that sort of thing, go and visit Petra's class or take a hike with her. And since I am on the 'must do while here row' - go and take a spiritual journey with Jonathan or join his sacred drumming at the sweat lounge. But as promised, more to the spiritual trip I took- later...
Must rush!!!

AU...AU...AU...
Female Draculas sucked my veins dry, for some strange nutri-test that apparently tells everything, that is in and out of order inside my body... The test results will come back in 4 weeks, will let you know the,n if it was worth the hefty $$$ tag.

My clay bowl by the way is lovely, I am rather proud of MYSELF.  Well done, Anna, maybe there is a future in the pottery barn? Any future in something sounds good enough, barn or not, I take it!!! I certainly will look into the pottery making back in Sintra, pottery after all is a big thing in Portugal. It is a wonderful feeling to roll out, form and shape the clay. Pretty much like baking, a very meditational work. Just as Gandhi said - When down do something with your hands, people. It is the best prozac that's out there. (I say) Some other similar calming hobbies include sawing, knitting, painting or gardening. If you are good or not, does not matter. Try it... You will be amazed by the healing powers...

And now, the best part of the day - we are leaving for New York. Not that NY is my favorite place, as some memories from the time spend there are very dark and very very bad and better stay buried in the UNDERWORLD.  Wild, may be a gentler  description...
But NEW YORK, good or bad, is away from the Ranch, away from the bland days and the hungry nights. It is at last - us again without a leash.
Our driver this time is very charming and composed, like out of an old movie and does not mind, when I ask him to stop on the road side, to take an urgent pee. I did drink liters of water this morning, as advised by the Draculas, who also like pee. (strange!)
So I peed, on the road side of some Arizona highway, next to lots of trash and glass, and it felt good to do something illegal after such restricted 'holiday-research-confinement'.

US-AIR, 1. class ( I took the liberty to buy new tickets, screw Jet Blue), no more Army carrier for us anymore. Hope it will be better.
At the airport: Check in via machine only is a horrible welcome to our 21.century. I want a person. I want to talk, I want to ask, I want to feel. I want the good old days back!!!
At least on board the stewardesses seem pretty alife and real. No robot air-waitress yet, but I am sure, it is already in the making. Hopefully, she the Robertess, will be not well functioning until the time I am too old and too tired to jet around. Or maybe, by then, we will be beaming ourselfs around... I want to be in BORA BORA...bufffff...
I want to be on a beach with virgin sand...kabuuuuuuuuufffffff... I want to be in Bali for sunset... I am looking forward to the beaming times. I am beaming just dreaming (of it)
The plane is pretty ok, seats are wide and the service decent. Still, no comparisment to European standards, with fine wine and dine on board. (Lufthansa has even served sushi lately)
The red wine, of course from a plastic cup, no glass (NO!NO!NO!) is undrinkable, the Chardonay bearable, so we stick with white for once.
Arriving evening hour in Newark we jump into  a very nice and clean cap, to no surprise the driver is from Uruguay... Ahhhh, Punta... wild beaches and land, land, land... It is a wonderful country, quiet and tinted in the same golden ripe-apple glow, as Tuscany.

known (I don't know it) french place in walking distance.
We arrive at our sleep quarters, 70 Park Ave. Hotel. It is one of those new boutique hotels, advertising the home away from home spirit at affordable rates. Our room is very nice, but not much bigger than the bed. The bathroom is a tiny cupboard like space and once the door is closed, it is almost impossible to open it from the inside and to pee. But the bed is lovely. The Frette linen is ohhhh, so soft and welcoming after 4 hours in airspace. But there is something that is much more important and that is food. A good meal to fill up, soak up and rejuvenate after so much healthy living. We ask the concierge, and she recommends a well know French place, just around the corner.

 arriving in style

La Grenouille (The Frog)
Sounds good...
Oh, and what a delicious surprise. The place reminds of elegant, old Paris. A very well to do crowd and impeccable service by French waiters. We have a bottle of Bordeaux, nothing very special and not up in the 0000 price heaven. The food, now..., THE FOOD is absolutely divine. Foi Gras salad for me, with a cinnamon plum sauce followed by Lamb chops with pumpkin gnoccis. The Prince went for Duck Magaret and was happily satisfied. Some Muscadet and a souffle to finish off this well deserved meal, we make it home in a somewhat cloudy state. The only disturbance to such lovely evening was a rather un-refined and extremely loud table, where particularly one woman was voicing her slurred thoughts and opinions way above concert levels. The fellow food lovers seemed as annoyed as us (Prince more than me), that he decided to make a schooooosh sign towards the loose female. Not appreciated at all, the husband came over explaining that we are party killers, and this day is very special to them. So hence that, special day - and anyone is free to scream and shout ? How about moving the special day to a noisier place with a club like ambiance?

Good night everybody,
dreaming in our soft bed of more yummmmm to come...


And for your next visit to the big apple and some fine French fare:


La Grenouille
3 East 52nd Street
New York, NY
10022


Tel: 212 752 1495
www.la-grenouille.com

History

The restaurant opened its doors on December 19th, 1962 on a quiet night in the midst of a snowstorm.

From the first day there were flowers, just a few roses here and there, but few as they were, this was to be the birth of a tradition.

La Grenouille serves classic French cuisine and spontaneous creations in a glowing setting that many consider home.

Be aware - it is not cheap! Reservation recommended. Jackets are a must for him and kids under 12 stay home and wait for the dogy bag (well, you could try, but it would not look it's part there...)