Explorations

Today has been a packed day of expeditioning. We woke up rather early, before 8, and Craig headed out for bagels and coffee from Bagel Express. After breakfast and showers we traveled on foot to 82nd Street to pick up some keys to empty apartments at various locations in our neighborhood. We're not anticipating a move in July when our lease ends, but we'd like to leave options open, particularly since our management company is broker fee-free and there's a possibility our deposit for this place could roll over to cover deposit for another of their units. The weather was positively perfect this morning: ample sun, brisk fifties-temps and a light breeze. The first two apartments we looked at were on 81st (to clarify, if apartments are vacant, our management company will give keys in exchange for a photo ID and you can help yourself to look at your leisure - nice feature to New York apartment-hunting, different from having a bossy salesperson leasing agent persist that the white-walled beige floor-to-floor carpeted apartment you're touring with her is absolutely perfect when in reality it's no different from every other suburban apartment complex apartment you've seen) (as has been my past experiences in most places I've apartment-shopped). Immediately I noted the upkeep of the facade of the building, the pretty-colored stucco, the cleanliness of the street, even. That's a luxury we do not possess on our block. I've convinced myself that the crumbling brick and weathered fire escapes of our street add character, but vaguely fantasizing I might hypothetically one day call 81st Street my home instead reminded me how nice it would be to have a clean row of nice buildings surrounding me instead of 2nd Avenue construction debris and whatever else litters our curbs. Now, for the most part, the apartments I've seen in the City have several things in common (not only through our leasing company, but others, as well). Typically (which does not occur in our building, oddly) the hallways and stairwells are so narrow that one can only dread the thought of moving large furniture through these passageways. Since we do own a rather large television, my gut reaction is to imagine two people on either end of it knocking it into walls and shattering whatever brains exist inside its cabin. For the amount of money we spent on that thing in Atlanta back when, that would sure be a shame. Next - oftentimes appliances don't match one another. Here in our place, we have a white atypically-sized (small) fridge, black microwave and black stovetop/oven. I call that luck. Some apartments will have a beige dishwasher housed nextdoor to a stark white oven. Ugly. But hey, you're in Manhattan, right? Right. Another thing I noticed today as we viewed empty units includes wasted space - who notices, in a regularly-sized suburban apartment averaging say 800 sf (minimum), if the hallway when you enter is approximately 6 wasted square feet? Who cares? Here, it's significant space that could be utilized better otherwise, as was the case once today. For the most part, of the handful of places we saw today, we increasingly realized the lucky card we drew when encountering the place we today call home (and might sign on another year to do so). There was a one BR, for instance, whose bedroom's radiator was in the only convenient place to put a bed (if a bed would even fit in the room at all, which would be a stretch!) That would lend to a mattress maybe floating in the middle of the room, which would then fill the room leaving no space for any other item, period. Another apartment we saw had such a dinky kitchen that even the most successful of professional chefs could not have excelled there. We looked at a place that Craig was beside himself to see, an apartment which billed itself as a one BR but which boasts a rather spacious patio out back. I will say, having viewed the overgrown brick-paved patio with its artsy views of backs of other brick buildings, a spattering of trees, and more sky than I've seen from Manhattan in a long time!, that if needing a retreat from the indoors to sit and savor Sunday coffee and read the paper were on my list of mentally-massaging activities, I might actually sacrifice the things I'd have to give up. For instance, the "bedroom" of this apartment by far would not host a mattress of any variety. The space is cut out in places by exposed brick walls, and a small closet invades the floor space, as well. The best use of that room would be as an office - a small, small office! But above the kitchen, with a seemingly unstable ladder as access to it, spans a loft which, without a mattress, might have its ceiling height at, I don't know - 4 feet. In other words, this loft isn't one that is to be walked around - it's more of a "storage" alcove - but the way we figured going into it is that you'd shove a mattress up there (not really sure how, but somehow!) and you'd climb that ladder each night and crawl to the mattress surface and remind yourself each night repeatedly as you fall asleep not to sit up abruptly, for that could yield a nice headache when your head meets "ceiling". But again, if Sunday morning coffee tastes better in spring when sipped inside the security of wood-planked fenced patio looking up at the small fraction of NYC sky you get to see, this apartment might be worth the effort.*We covered a lot of apartment-looking ground, to be honest. And since this time two years ago marks roughly the anniversary of our first NYC-apartment search weekend (it was more like May but we're close to that mark), we turned back the keys and headed to JG Melon (at 74th and 3rd) for burgers, just as we did that Saturday in 2006. Craig called it apartment hunting tradition. Cute. This time I ate their turkey burger and loved it. We even shared one order of their awesome cottage fries! After lunch (by this time it was only like 2 o'clock - we felt so accomplished and productive!) we walked in the direction of 86th and Lex. At 75th and 3rd, though, Craig stopped and looked up at an awning and asked me if I wanted to scope this place out. The awning read "Citarella" and, I don't know, I wasn't enthused, but I agreed anyway (we had no idea what kind of place it was). So we went in, and my first and really only reaction was What...what, is this place real? Citarella is a gourmet grocery - gourmet grocery, so what, KB. But no...not like the D'Ag's that I mentioned previously, which is nice, nice like a Publix in the South or like Marsh in Indiana. Citarella is stretches of foods that had even Craig perplexed and excited. He was all over the joint, pointing out the fresh meats ranging from lamb to livers to veals to cornish hens, the immense amount of fresh sea food options (octopus! varieties of tuna! different sizes of scallops! everything!), the fresh mushroom-truffle mix, the olives...the vegetables (some shown above but only a small fraction) are julienned or coined or diced and pre-packaged like beautiful little color palettes, all ready to toss into an easy weeknight meal...and evidently Citarella has its own line of fresh sauces, soups, salads, bakery items (we saw the case - it looked deadly) and so forth. (It's hard to see, but the celephaned package in the last photo contains fresh quail eggs!) It was rather a reeling experience. I'm sure nice groceries aren't specific or native to New York City. I have lived so many places and experienced the shoppers' paradises of those locales but seriously, if I could just dream myself into a storybook life, it would be one where Craig and I push the stroller (with baby) through Citarella carefully selecting the most delectable of gourmet cheeses, whole grain crackers, spicy homemade sausages, fresh pestos, greens, always-ripe tomatoes, and everything else we would need to throw together a luxurious Upper East Side intimate dinner party, we check out and don't fret the bankbook outcome, we retreat to our penthouse (in this dream, I will even take something floors below the penthouse!) and tuck the baby to sleep and ready the apartment for friends and everyone comes and they know us well enough to know we're not basking in our riches, we're just happy to experience the thrill of living here and doing it well.*Sigh. That said, going into that place with Craig was a lot of fun. It was about a half an hour where we both daydreamed and gawked at labels and at the fact that people really do live that way, shopping there regularly. After Citarella, we hit Best Buy at 86th and Lex for a couple of things. Then we went to Little Red Hen(s?) for rumored Best Cheesecake. See here...
It looked a little crooked in the case but we picked it anyway - it was their last "small" cheesecake. We brought it home and yes, it tasted pretty terrific. Currently, Craig naps and tonight we're headed to Brio 89 for the first time since it opened roughly half a year ago. Brio 89 is a wine bar in the neighborhood that is a sister restaurant to its Brio NYC somewhere else in the UES, I think? Either way, it's so chic, from the outside. It will probably be nice. Then we are heading to this "best kept secret" bar called the Auction House. We walked by it today to locate it and yes, there is no sign or reference to it being a bar anywhere outside. You do need to know the address. Reviewers called it everything from Victorian to "a place where the Vampire Lestat would hang out". Interesting enough. After that, we are headed to a Piano Lounge in the neighborhood. It's basically been a neighborhood date day. And it's been so nice. I love having Craig with me to guide me around. He's such a great man.*