Birthday Eve at the Boathouse

Leigh Ann's birthday was Saturday, so on Friday night we had dinner at the Boathouse in Central Park. Naturally, this was another recommendation from our cruise directors in absentia, Neil and Nate.

Neil noted it's one of those places you'd think would be a tourist trap serving overpriced, average meals. Instead, it's exactly what you'd hope -- a unique, picturesque atmosphere with delicious food. We experienced it on a perfectly balmy summer night.

Travis joined us for dinner and entertained us with behind-the-scenes tales from his adventures on Jeopardy years ago. (He was a five-time winner and made it to the Tournament of Champions. He used some of his winnings to go to Harvard Law School.)

Travis and I both had beet salads. Mine had pears and burrata cheese.

Instead of getting an entree, I got two starters: beet-cured salmon with tomato, cucumber, pea shoots and wasabi caviar (must have been a clearance sale on beets this week) and steak tartare. The latter was delicious, but it was a lot to eat by myself, and everyone else at the table found the faux hamburger patty presentation rather unappetizing.

Leigh Ann adores crab cakes; the entree portion wasn't on the menu, but when she ordered, the waiter asked if that was what she wanted. They were perfect!

Mom had striped bass with roasted endive, and Travis had salt-crusted branzino with asparagus.

We split two desserts, but the baba au rhum was a big disappointment. It was soaked in pure rum and screaming for some whipped cream or ice cream. Not even worth a photo, y'all! They took that one off the bill for us. The warm chocolate dulce de leche cake with mango caramel sauce, on the other hand, was amazing.

A perfect summer dinner and worth every calorie. However, when I got up for 8:30 a.m. spinning the next morning to burn it off, I was glad we limited ourselves to one bottle of Spanish Albarino!

"Family Dinner" at The Park

On Wednesday evening, Mom and I took the subway from Rockefeller Plaza to the West Village so she could see my digs. We had a drink al fresco before we made the hike up all five flights of stairs to my home sweet home!

Kurt met us, and we headed to Chelsea Market. We wanted to try the Green Table, but it was booked. Nevertheless, Mom loved seeing the market itself. Kurt had a Plan B, which took us to The Park on 10th Avenue, a great choice. I didn't get any photos to capture the ambience, but if you're really curious, you can click on the restaurant link...they apparently do a lot of special events. It's almost like eating in a garden.

We ordered a selection of small plates for sharing: Giant Swiss chard raviolo with white beans and breadcrumbs.

Pizza with ricotta, roasted garlic and chives. (This was possibly my favorite.) In the backround is the acorn squash salad with pears, chestnuts and maple champagne vinaigrette.

Crispy calamari with chipotle aioli and marinara.

We also had a steamed artichoke with beurre blanc dipping sauce and Brussels sprouts with pancetta. It was a great meal, and we had a wonderful table with a view of the High Line and the sunset over the Hudson. Lovely!

Mom Takes Manhattan

I was so excited about our celebrity encounter yesterday, I skipped over Mom's first day in NYC. Nate and Neil are in Asia, so they are letting us stay in their spacious apartment. SO SWEET of them!

Mom arrived around 1 p.m., and I worked remotely in order to be able to get her settled. There's a great market on Lexington Avenue (Butterfield's), so we split a salad and veggie sandwich for lunch before I began my afternoon conference calls. Mom got out ato explore on her own, and she was especially excited to go inside the James B. Duke mansion. In the evening, we took a sunset stroll around the reservoir in Central Park.

Mom loved it, though she probably would have worn her tennis shoes if she'd known I was going to take her on such a trek.

Dinner was burgers and fries at Shake Shack. After having shakes there with N&N on Memorial Day, I wanted to return and see if the burgers are worth all the fuss -- and the lines. We arrived early, but it was still busy.

Mom ordered a single, and I got a double. (I knew the place was a bit old school, so I was worried we were in for one of those skimpy McDonald's patties.) The double was completely unnecessary, but oh. my. goodness.

Yummers!!!!

I cannot believe I ate the whole thing! I thought to myself I should really discard one of the patties and not be such a glutton, but instead...

After a few minutes, the greasy wrapper was the only remaining evidence. Mind you, my mother was still eating her single, so that made my gobblefest even worse. (And the fries -- heavenly crinkled crunchiness.) I'm still thinking about how tasty it all was!

For the Quincy crowd, Mom and I agreed it was close to an old-fashioned Luten's hamburger. I'd been craving a burger for a while, so it was a much-anticipated indulgence...though I felt guilty enough to wake up on my own at 6 the next morning and head to the gym.

Meredith and Me (and Mom!)

I thought I was lucky to get anywhere near Meredith Vieira on her last day on the Today Show. She's in the background being interviewed over my right shoulder.

Not much of a souvenir, but kind of a cheap thrill, right? Keep reading.

Mom and I watched the broadcast while I got ready for work this morning. It was a touching tribute to a true professional. Meredith is such a class act, and Mom and I were both sorry we hadn't watched her more often when we had the chance.

It was after 9 when I got to Rockefeller Plaza, but I didn't have a meeting until 10. So, I thought I'd see what was going on with the crowd outside the studio. Most people had left, but I stood there for a minute or two watching the crew break down the lights in their "Crew Loves Meredith" t-shirts.

Then Meredith came out!

There was a crowd of entertainment journalists waiting for her, so I watched her get interviewed by Nancy O'Dell from Inside Edition and a correspondent from Extra.

Between interviews, people would scream, "Meredith! Over here!" She yelled to the crowd a couple of times, "I'll get there! I promise." 

Not sure if you could see this on the set today, but she was wearing a pair of incredibly tall Christian Louboutins.

All the other reporters and cameramen covering the story wanted their picture taken with Meredith, so this went on for quite a while. Meredith beckoned to the Inside Edition field producer to get in the photo, and then Nancy hopped out to snap the picture.

Figuring I'd gotten my jollies for the day, I exited the barricaded area and walked toward my office. That was closer to where Meredith was standing, so I got an even better view.

I realized there was a small opening in the barricade, so I slipped through and got into the photo line. "Close that gate!" one security guard called to another. "Meredith will never get out of here!"

But lucky me, I was one of the last ones in. I babbled some sort of congratulatory compliment and thanked Meredith for taking the time to stay out there so long. "Oh, no, it's the least I can do," she said. "Thank all of you for being out here!"

A security guard took my camera, and voila!

Not bad for a Wednesday morning at work, huh? Sometimes the late bird gets the worm!

* * *

Part 2: I wrote the above this morning and then met my mom for lunch. We went down to the Rink Cafe in Rockfeller Plaza. Tourist trap, right?

Not quite.

I'd shown Mom my prized photo from this morning and shared that my only regret was she hadn't been with me. Shortly after we sat down at our table, Mom leaned over her menu and whispered to me: "Isn't that her? Over there?"

Sure enough, Meredith and three colleagues were out to lunch. She'd traded the green dress and heels for a black t-shirt and jeans. Mom and I tried not to stare too hard as we split a giant turkey sandwich. (I'd learned the hard way the sandwiches at this joint are ginormous -- and should be, at $19 each.)

Mom tried to get a picture of me with the fountain in the background, but the shade wasn't quite cooperating.

Meredith's teammates surprised her with a cake, and it was fun to have a window on what was really just the same kind of "last day at work" lunch we've all had with our work buddies.

On our way out, Mom stopped to tell Meredith how much she'd enjoyed the show this morning and that she, too, had just retired after 28 years in the classroom. Meredith could not have been any more friendly and personable and suggested I take a photo of them. 

"Let's get one with you, too!" she suggested.

"Actually, I already got my picture with you this morning," I admitted. 

"I thought you looked familiar! Here, let's get one with your mom," she insisted. 

What a sweetheart!

Wooking for Wove

It's been about 6-7 years since I last ventured into the world of online dating, and I thought my new life in Manhattan would be a good chance to try it again. What better way to meet new people, see different neighborhoods, and fill my time? Worst case scenario, I'd get some crazy stories, right?

Riiiiiight.

First of all, let me say the upside of online dating is that you can find out in a few short minutes what would take you hours to uncover in a more casual conversation. His goals, career, interests and dislikes are all right there and spelled out in plain English. (Bonus: you get to see if he knows the difference between they're and their or it's and its.)

The downsides? Being subjected to drivel like this:

Paid the dues... now want to enjoy the Club perks!
Would LOVE to meet ONE (one only) top-shelf Lady and see if there is a connection we would enjoy. Looking for ONE Lady that blooms with age. Be a high quality person. Be classy. Be fit. Be fun. Be pretty. Be a person that sees each day as opportunity.

Be close to your barf bucket...

The other delight of online dating -- or at least Match in particular -- is that one must begin by selecting an online identity. Here are a few of my favorites:

GreatGuy4UinNJ
roomyumbrella
strongNsilent

My very favorite: CuddlerXL.

A close second: Wookingpawub.

I'm sorry, but is that supposed to be "looking for love" pronounced with a lisp????

I thought Match would be a chance to get to know some new neighborhoods in the city. Instead, it turned into more of a lesson in Tri-States geography. "Hello from Hoboken!" wrote one man.

And in this age of digital abundance, the poor quality of most photos surprised me. It seems cruel and inappropriate to upload any specific examples, but you really wouldn't believe the number of arm's length self-portraits or bathroom mirror snapshots out there. I shouldn't complain, though -- the worst of all is the surprising number of men on Match with absolutely no photos. Those lead to messages like this one from "HeyU3" in Fleetwood, New Jersey:

How are you? I think we have some things in common. I don't have a px for work purposes only. I can explain if you like.I have very thick hair, good teeth and look much younger than my age.I'm very down to earth and really looking forward to meeting awonderful person.

He actually did attach a photo with his message, and he did indeed seem to have thick hair. His profile was headlined "Seeing what's out there." Uh, huh, HeyU3, I bet you are. Tell your wife I said hi.

My subscription was for a month. But here's the most disheartening part: I sent out several messages and heard back not a peep. After the two dates I blogged about previously, there wasn't anyone else I even wanted to correspond with. Maybe somewhere out there my messages are fodder for someone else's blog? Oh, well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

But for now, it's Goodbye from Manhattan. I think I'll keep wooking for wove...offline.

"I Am Turning into My Mother"

A few weeks ago when my friend Patrick was in town, we went to the coolest event at the 92Y in Tribeca.

Called "I Am Turning into My Mother" and timed to coincide with Mothers' Day, it was put on by Smith Magazine, creator of the Six-Word Memoir Project. The evening featured six-word "momoirs" by about a dozen writers. In advance of the event, The New York Times ran a contest and published a number of delightful submissions. Some of my favorites:

Smart, kind, frugal. Makes great kugel.
Kitchen is closed. Make it yourself.
Kids need moms. Moms need wine.

Patrick and I each ordered a beer and grabbed a table with a good view of the stage. Each writer's six-word memoir was projected behind them as they were introduced; they then told a story to explain it. A few I found memorable:

Growing up, Laura Zigman felt her mom looked at her as though there was something wrong with her, as if There's a bird on your head.  

One of President Clinton's former press secretaries, Joe Lockhart, said the six-word memoir for his professional life would be Asked and answered, asshole. Next question. But the story he told that night was about the words his father used for guidance during life-changing decisions...and how those words came to play in his own life in a most unexpected way. Will you have this opportunity again?

A father and son pair told a two-parter about adoption and acceptance: I'm gonna get my own kid and The day I adopted my dad.

Perhaps the most well-known writer of the night, Susan Orlean, called her memoir I have begun ironing his underpants. She explained how her mother's most annoying habits had now become her own.

I think my very favorite "momoir" was by Deb Kogan, whose (actual) memoir Shutterbug: Adventures in Love and War I read and loved earlier this year. (It's her globe-hopping adventures as a freelance photographer in her 20s, from Afghanistan to Amsterdam.) She played the guitar sang a song about being pregnant and going into labor while working at NBC News in Midtown: Hospital bound. Contractions fierce. Taxi stolen. It was clever, cheesy, incredible and hilarious.

At the end, the emcees opened the mic for contributions from the audience. I jotted down my favorites:
A sake mom, not a soccer mom.
Beware of men wearing pinky rings.
Baby: King. Mama: Queen. Papa: Jester.
I'd like my breasts back, please.
My baby fever might kill me.

Patrick's: Smoking at dinner is gross, Mom.
Mine: He might have a cute friend.

Try writing your own. It's kind of addictive!

New "Friend" in the Neighborhood

Sunday's New York Times had a most interesting article in the real estate section. It noted that many celebrities who buy real estate in the city are using creative ruses to keep their transactions confidential.

Jennifer Aniston, for example, recently bought a home on 12th Street in the West Village. To keep it a secret, her business manager created a trust using her dog's name.

Excuse me, where? 12th Street? What block? Is Jennifer Aniston about to be my neighbor? Pretty sure I won't be running into her in the stairwell, but how close are we talking? Might she be the cause of the massive renovation that's going on next door?

It was a slow Monday at the office, so I did a little “detective work." With the information in the article, it took only a few minutes to determine she'll be living two blocks away from me.

As an added irony, the only celebrity sighting I've had so far (other than a chubby guy who typically plays sleazy lawyers and whose name escapes me) was Tate Donovan.

He was eating brunch at La Bonbonniere, right across from his ex-sweetie's future home!