We woke to mild temperatures and a low-lying mist this morning, not so different from the ones that I remember from our past trips to Ireland. Today is St. Patrick’s Day, so it seems fitting that the weather should jog my memory of one of our favorite travel destinations. The clouds have lingered into the early afternoon and the Atlantic is molten steel, capped with cotton.
Feeling culinarily ambitious and craving hearty fare for later on, I headed out to the grocery store first thing this misty morning to pick up the ingredients I was missing for Guinness Beef Stew and Irish Brown Bread. The rich scent of simmering carrots, potatoes, onions, garlic, and beef mingle with that of Irish stout, red wine, stock, and thyme. The smells are starting to escape the seams of the Crock Pot lid in thin breaths in a successful effort to permeate the kitchen.
The brown bread’s baking in the oven, adding the sweet dryness of toasting flour into this afternoon’s scent medley. My hands feel soft from mixing and working the dough, something I haven’t done since we lived in Brooklyn. As I turned and folded the sticky dough on the floured counter, I thought of our old kitchen on Union Avenue and realized something. We’ve had our home in New Jersey for five years today.
When we lived in Brooklyn, I had maybe four meals that I would make on rotation, having limited cooking skills and even less patience for meal planning. Irish stew and brown bread was one of these meals and I’m sure we both grew tired of it toward the end of our time in New York. It feels nostalgic now, however, to make it here for the first time. It feels festive and like an appropriate meal to celebrate five years of living in this beautiful place together on this gray, March day.
While working in the kitchen earlier, I also couldn’t help but think of the improvements we’ve gained in our cooking skills over the past five years. We went from cooking tried and true recipes maybe once or twice a week to cooking from an expansive variety of options three to four times a week.
The kitchen has become a space for creativity in our home, for trying out new recipes and having them turn out more than half decent, most of the time at least. It’s a space for surprising ourselves, for building confidence, and for drinking red wine or a cold beer while stirring simmering concoctions in many pans and pots all going at the same time.
I enjoy the sensory experiences of cooking- the scents, the sounds, the colors. My favorite, however, is the warmth. There is the warmth of the stove burners as they glow red, the warmth of the preparing meal simmering away, and the warmth of the oven and it’s golden light as I open the door. Speaking of- the oven timer’s beeping which means the brown bread’s finished baking, so I’ll get back to this post in a moment.
The bread is golden and ugly and rugged, just how I remember it. 🙂
Speaking of ugly and rugged, I resumed my quest for Stephen King’s “Dark Tower” last week, digging in to Book V, The Wolves of the Calla, after a months-long break from the series. This one’s a continuation of King’s behemoth, western-style, adventure tale with his characteristic visceral descriptions and unparalleled creativity for the dark and disturbing. It’s far from cozy though, and I think today is a day to lean hard into cozy, so I’ll take a break from Roland and his ka-tet’s adventure in favor of one of my dad’s recommendations instead, P.G. Wodehouse’s Mulliner Nights.
Just a few minutes more until I can slice into the brown bread and see how I’ve done this time…
Upon post-slice review, I think I could have baked it for five minutes less, as it was a little more crumbly than I remember, but it will do just fine with a pat of Kerry Gold Irish Butter and a mugful of Oolong sips for now. At dinner later on is when it will really have a chance to shine, dunked in savory stew, soaking up all the hearty flavors to make for a delicious bite. Now, I’m craving that cozy reading escape before getting back to work on some fiction of my own.
I hope this post added a little warmth to your day, wherever you are. And to my friends and family who celebrate, wishing you all a very happy St. Patrick’s Day. I hope you have a festive evening whether it’s out at a pub, listening to Celtic music at home, or indulging in a hearty meal paired with an Irish stout, lager, ale, or whiskey. Thanks so much for reading. I hope you’re doing well. 🙂
We were greeted by ominous clouds upon landing at Newark Airport yesterday afternoon, a drastic change from our view upon waking up in Fajardo, Puerto Rico- turquoise water stretching from Puerto Chico out to Cayo Icacos, where we had walked in the sand just the morning before. It was a treat to swap the chill of New Jersey in February for the warm sunshine and breezes of Puerto Rico, even if only for a few days.
The sun was hot and the breeze-warm as we headed up the hill along the winding streets, in the direction of Castillo San Felipe del Morro, perhaps better known simply as El Morro. The fort is perched overlooking the ocean and the Bay of San Juan in the northwesternmost tip of the island of Old San Juan. An expansive stretch of inviting green grass and blue sky welcomed us as we neared the fort.
It felt a little surreal to see the US National Parks emblem on the sign for El Morro, being on an island in the Caribbean, 1000 miles from the mainland. Puerto Rico, though a United States Territory, retains a unique charm and culture, not to mention a long-spanning history that is very unique to the island and very distinct from the influence of US mainland culture.
Inside the fortress’ thick, stone walls, tourists snapped photos and wove in, out, and through, from chamber to chamber, taking in the history of one of the most attacked fortresses in history due to San Juan’s attractive and strategic harbor location in the Caribbean. The walls were built to resist cannon fire and the fort developed a reputation for being unconquerable after evading invasion attempts by the English, Dutch, and British from the 16th to the 18th century. The fort fell to the hands of the Americans during the Spanish American War, ultimately succumbing due to updated capabilities of naval weaponry. El Morro was also used in later years as a US military base during WWI and WWII.
Nowadays, the fort is the perfect spot to take in the view of the turquoise and cerulean Atlantic waters crashing into white froth on the rocks below. Exhibits within the fort’s stone walls provide insight into what life was like for the Spanish soldiers stationed there in the 1700s and it was interesting to read about the history and wander the sunny plaza, sentry boxes (garitas), dim passageways, arched chambers, and original structures, one of which dated back to 1539.
From El Morro, we walked east along the waterfront, on the outskirts of La Perla. We stuck to the road with Castillo San Cristobal in our sights as our entry fee to El Morro included entry to the other fort as well. Castillo San Cristobal was less crowded and felt a little smaller than El Morro. It was here where we first encountered some island wildlife- a couple of iguanas, one cooling itself in the shade between the battlements and one basking in the sunshine.
Service aside, my cocktail and our food were both delicious. I ordered a Whiskey Business which was refreshing and tasty and Mike got the locally brewed beer, Medalla. We shared a carrot dip and a refreshing avocado salad and then dug into our main dish which was a bell pepper stuffed with stewed lentils and topped with cheese, accompanied by rice and beans. It was so good and made the long wait feel almost worth it.
With full bellies and rain starting to sprinkle, we went back to the car and settled in for the drive over to the east coast to our Airbnb in Fajardo. As we made our way across the northern side of the island, we spotted advertisements and structures for many familiar restaurant chains. Puerto Rico takes American fast food culture to the next level. If you are a fast food fan living on the mainland, you will find pretty much all of the typical fast food offerings from home if you visit Puerto Rico, along with many additional highway-side local food vendors to choose from.
As we drove across the island, we noticed many dilapidated homes, businesses, and structures and wondered if the properties were abandoned remnants from the devastation caused by Hurricane Maria back in 2017. My memory of the island will likely be equal parts paradise and devastation as it was evident how much of a permanent toll the hurricane’s destruction took on the island and its residents.
Fajardo
We arrived at our Airbnb in Fajardo, a condo on an upper floor of an apartment building that overlooked Puerto Chico. The view was breathtaking and brought us quickly back to a state of paradise.
Vieques
Fajardo proved to be an excellent location for our adventurous itinerary over the next couple of days. We started the day on Friday with a boat tour to the island of Vieques for snorkeling and some relaxing walks on the beach. We made the mistake of sitting on the second level of the boat on the way out of the marina and got walloped with salty spray for the forty-five minute rollicking journey to Vieques, a truly romantic experience to kick off our Valentine’s Day.
The boat ride put all of my fear of snorkeling out of mind until we reached the snorkeling spot, that is. I was a little afraid to get into the open water after one of the other people on our tour asked one of the guides if there would be sharks. “This is the ocean man,” he responded, “There’s anything: treasure, migrants, anything!” So that meant there might be sharks. My mom being a big fan of Jaws, I am not a big fan of swimming with sharks. I wasn’t gonna chicken out though, so I put on my mask, slipped on my flippers and descended into the water.
There’s something that happens when you are living in the moment of a thrilling experience. Fear subsides and intrigue takes over. Once my head was under water, I was fine. There is something so calming in the pressure and the isolation. There is depth and cold and Darth Vader sounds coming from the snorkel, and everything’s ok somehow. I saw a sea turtle laying in the sand and watched for a while hoping it was alive. I came up to get my bearings.
“Want to see a sting ray?” said the guide.
He could have said, Want to see a shark? and my answer would have been the same.
“Yeah!”
The rush of the moment takes over and that’s when the real living starts. It just doesn’t happen often so you have to take advantage of it when it does.
We anchored by Playa Punta Arenas on the northwestern tip of Vieques. The beach was nearly empty except for our group. The sand was gold and backed up to green jungle. The water was turquoise and clear and I could see my feet and a few fish swimming nearby. There was a lunch of sandwiches and pasta salad on the boat and an open rum cocktail bar plentiful with pina coladas. The paradise was really making its mark and the coconut was cool and sweet.
Luquillo
We returned to the main island and headed to Luquillo to peruse the food kiosk offerings there. After walking the length of the kioskos, we decided we’d try La Parilla and Nativa Latin Cuisine. At La Parilla, we each enjoyed a cold Medalla, a beer brewed in Puerto Rico, and ordered a carne frita meal to share. The pork was tender and delicious and the view wasn’t half bad.
At Nativa Latin Cuisine, we had our second island time experience that was worth the wait. We ordered mofongo, a savory delight and Puerto Rican staple made of mashed plantains. Ours came topped with criollo sauce and chicken and let’s just say we crushed the whole thing even though we weren’t hungry after La Parilla. Yum!
Icacos
The next day promised more adventure. We took another snorkeling tour and learned our lesson from the day before. We sat at the front of the boat this time, well into the covered section and stayed dry as the people in the back of the boat and up top got soaked. It shouldn’t feel good, but what can I tell you?
The second snorkeling adventure took us to a reef near the island of Icacos. We saw many more fish on this trip, but no larger creatures. It was cool to swim right up to the reef, although the reef, unfortunately, appeared to have suffered the effects of coral bleaching. After our guides called us back to the boat, we headed closer to the beach in Icacos and swam to shore to walk on the white sand.
Were it not for the crowded, party-like atmosphere at 11:00AM, I think I would have preferred this beach to the beach in Vieques from the day before. Remoteness has its own charms, though, so I’m happy we got to do both. A couple of pina coladas and coconut mojitos later, and it was time to head back to Fajardo.
El Yunque
Our next planned activity was a kayaking tour of the bioluminescent bay, Laguna Grande, later that evening so we had some time to add something else to our plans. We opted to drive out to El Yunque National Forest, the only tropical rainforest in the US. In El Yunque, we made a few brief stops including the Visitor’s Center, a kebob stand for a hasty lunch, La Coca Falls, and Torre Yokahu. If you only have time for one, I suggest Torre Yokahu as it offers impressive 360 degree views of the forest.
Laguna Grande
Ok, so remember the thing about the fear of sharks from earlier in this post and it going out the window due to the thrill of the moment? Well, I also have this thing about the dark. In the pursuit of adventure, fear must be cast aside sometimes and discomfort-embraced. This is what I told myself as we kayaked along the narrow canal through the pitch black mangrove after dark on our way to Laguna Grande, one of only five bioluminescent bays in the world.
We kayaked single file along the canal, guided only by a small red light on the back of each of the kayaks in front of us. We could hear the splash of paddles in the water and the coqui frogs singing in the tangled trees all around us and, somehow, I was not afraid anymore. It was beautiful- a line of dotted red gliding through the water on the way to the lagoon. Real life seems unreal sometimes, I thought.
We arrived at the lagoon and our guides instructed us on how to best view the bioluminescent effect in the water. The bioluminescent effect is a defense mechanism of the dinoflagellate plankton in the water and is activated when the plankton are disturbed by movement. The moon was pretty bright the night of our tour, but we still got to see a sparkling effect when moving our hands and paddles in the water. The tour also provided dark tarps that we covered ourselves with in order to better see the effect. It was magical and strange and probably looked like a weird ritualistic practice to the unknowing eye, but it was worth paddling through the dark to get a glimpse of the sparklers in the water.
After our tour, we changed quickly in the car to make our dinner reservation. Turns out we didn’t need to rush after all, though, as the host decided our reservation was too late in the day and lectured us on how we shouldn’t have made a reservation so late (even though it was available and not even the latest reservation available). They said they would still “help us” and we could stay, but we decided we didn’t need that favor on our last night after the lecture already ruffled our feathers a bit. Instead, we went to the local grocery store, Pueblo, and picked up a bottle of wine and a few things to make a delicious dinner of our own. It ended up being a fun and relaxing way to end our last night in Puerto Rico, so I’m almost happy for the little hiccup.
On our final morning, the usual wind present on our Airbnb’s balcony was still and we enjoyed some leftovers from our homemade meal the night before while sitting outside, soaking up the beautiful view one last time.
I enjoyed our trip, but was happy to head back to the airport and home to New Jersey. Even though the forecast for the evening promised cold and rain, there’s just something so inviting about home after being away. When the wheels touched down in Newark, I heard some passengers on the plane voicing their disappointment as they looked out the window, but I was looking forward to a hearty dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants. Something about getting away makes home more special. It disturbs the regular routine for a while and makes it sparkle brighter, even in the dark.
We’ve gone to Pennsylvania more than we’ve gone to most places this year and I haven’t written about any of these little jaunts since a post from last December, which, if I’m being honest, was mostly about New Jersey anyway. The Keystone State little-spoons my beloved Garden State and in my head, the two go together like meat and potatoes.
Ever since before I was born, my family in New Jersey and my family in Pennsylvania would cross state lines frequently, whether it be for birthdays, holidays, weddings, funerals, or simply weekends spent amongst each others’ company. There were more adults than kids when all the East Coasters got together, so the parents, my Aunt Arlene, and my Nana could relax a little while my sister, my cousins, and I ran around and played like little Wild Things, exploding with imaginative creativity.
To this day, Mike and I often find ourselves climbing into the car and making the trek to PA for some reason or another. The journey has become so familiar that I forget these excursions are even trips at all. For my next few posts, I am going to focus on a few destinations in the Keystone State that were new to us this year. So, without further ado, let’s get started on today’s featured destination!
West Chester
What brings you to West Chester? you might ask in a tone questioning our judgement or maybe even our sanity as one shop clerk and one winery barman asked me while on our trip there. For vacation! I replied, wondering why West Chester seemed to have been discounted as a vacation destination by its own locale. Still, the town and the surrounding landscape provided a charming weekend getaway for us, so let me fill you in on the details because I know after that intro, you are raring to get yourselves there!
Lodging
We stayed downtown at the Hotel Warner, an art deco style building, constructed where the grand Warner Theatre once stood. The hotel’s lobby was formerly the lobby of the theatre, which was left standing after a portion of the theatre was demolished in the 80s, and paid homage to the location’s history with photos, a mural, and memorabilia.
Our room was comfortable for our two-night stay and a light continental breakfast was included each morning. There was a cozy reading spot in the room where I crushed a good chunk of The Alice Network by, Kate Quinn, posted my Tolkien Takeaways post, and Googled the poet Baudelaire.
Looking at the History page of the Hotel Warner’s website now, there is a funny line about the Warner Theatre that is reminiscent of the reactions I got from locals regarding why we chose West Chester as a vacation destination, “The theatre was considered so grand by the local people that it was rumored to have been intended for Westchester New York and put in West Chester, Pennsylvania by mistake.” Believe in yourself, West Chester! Because the people believe in you!
Dining & Drinks
When we went to West Chester back at the end of March, I had not yet been bitten by the question that fueled me to embark on my healthy habits journey, so food and drink were activities high on the agenda for the weekend.
Keep reading for more info on some dining spots I’d recommend!
We ate dinner at Stove & Tap on our first night in town. The restaurant had a polished, industrial-chic vibe, replete with light fixtures strung from pulleys, rope dividers, antique-y tin ceiling tiles, and an airy, modern color scheme throughout. The food was delicious! Menu highlight: Fried Brussels Sprouts
Sedona Taphouse called to us as we passed by on our walk back to our hotel after Stove & Tap and we decided we’d make a reservation for the next night. It did not disappoint. Despite its lofty ceilings and copper touches, the stone walls and warm lighting gave this place a super cozy vibe. Everything we tried was delicious and our server was kind and attentive. If you’re in the area, snag a reservation! Menu highlight: Bacon Wrapped Scallops
If you have a passion for beer and are visiting Longwood Gardens for the day or are just visiting Kennett Square, I recommend giving this place a try for a brew or a flight and some lunch. The food was hearty and there were some good options for sharables on the menu. The beers available on tap rotate, but there is a good range of options for beer lovers of all preferences. They even have Athletic Brewing non-alcoholic beers on their menu, along with seltzers and a selection of soft drinks for those who prefer not to drink alcohol. The vibe was cool, quirky, and rustic and there is a sign by the bathrooms that I hope makes you laugh as much as it made me laugh. Sometimes, it’s just the little things, you know?
And now, onto our non-food or drink related main activity for the weekend…
Longwood Gardens
I recommend visiting Longwood Gardens when all of the fountains are on. It was still very pretty when we went and we were lucky to be able to see the beautiful tulips, but be sure to time your visit better than we did if you are going in hopes of seeing the fountain water shows. From what I read, they are supposed to be pretty impressive, I, however, cannot attest firsthand as only one small fountain was on while we were visiting.
The Open Air Theatre Fountain is open from early May to mid November. If you are reading this when I am posting it, you still have until November 17th to catch a water show before the fountains are turned off for the season! If you do visit during the colder months, be sure to visit the indoor conservatory to wander around in the tropical oasis curated within. There is a beer garden, cafe, restaurant, and store located on the grounds as well if you are a one-stop-shop kind of person or group looking for a full day activity.
Shopping
West Chester offers a cute, walkable downtown, which is what drew me to pick it for vacation in the first place. I like to peruse little independent shops that have set up their establishments in little red brick buildings. That’s just who I am and who I will always be and I find it relaxing.
I am addicted to stationary, in particular, and I know that in a cute walkable downtown, there is always at least one shop where I can find unique stationary and cards. I like to write and send and frame and stock as many cards as will fit in my designated stationary drawer. Maybe I have a problem. Who knows? (Me. I know. But that’s ok right?!) Anyway, I found what I was on the hunt for in West Chester, a baby shower card for a friend, in a shop called Thistle Be Perfect and that was my purchasing complete for the weekend.
So my friends, whether you are looking for a laid back daytrip from Philly or a weekend getaway from a little further afield like we were, I’d say West Chester is worth giving some thought! There’s a little bit of something for everyone and it’s not a bear to plan, which always has its benefits. You can kind of pick and choose your itinerary as you go, so if that’s how you like to travel, check it out for yourself! With that, I’ll end this post and look forward to telling you about another destination in the Keystone State next time! Thanks for reading! 🙂
My focus for the past couple of weeks, during a break from my big writing project, has shifted to healthier habits and how to establish their foundations. The main issue for me is hunger, or rather “hunger” and not knowing when my sensation of being hungry is true or masking some other physical need or emotion.
I have come to learn that people experience hunger and fullness in a spectrum of ways and at different intensities. Some lucky people have an automatic physical cue mid-meal that tells them to stop eating while some people don’t feel full until well after finishing a meal and may suffer the uncomfortable effects of overeating. Some people feel “hungry” on a constant basis when really they may be thirsty, bored, anxious, tired, or sad. For as long as I can remember, I belong to this last camp, but I’ve been working on questioning my hunger and emotional cues to better recognize them for what they actually are. It’s not easy; I’ll tell you that, but it is getting less hard each day.
It’s uncomfortable to feel hungry all of the time, even when you are “fake hungry”. Your brain wants you to feel happy and eating releases dopamine to make you feel good. It’s not cozy to be uncomfortable and you all know that being cozy is a high priority of mine. Comfort is a necessity for coziness, in my opinion. And yet, I am sitting here now feeling cozy despite adopting healthier habits that I’ll get into more in a little bit.
Feeling my own emotions is one thing; they are a mauling bear sometimes. Food is a quick fix. I am great at multitasking when it comes to being emotional and hungry. Fun, right? My sense of empathy takes things over the top though. If I am in proximity to someone who is anxious or sad, it’s a little contagious and guess what? I feel hungry. Yay empathy!
My brain often tells me that I’m hungry when I’m not and because of it, I have a seasoned history of overindulging on things like groceries, eating out, calories, energy, and time. Hunger can be distracting and irritating for me. Satisfying a craving offers immediate, albeit temporary, gratification and relief.
I have learned that when I am truly hungry, I am not picky. The craving for true hunger is for nourishment, not for a particular taste. Certain foods do a better job at filling up real hunger while others trick you into eating more without providing the nutrients that your real hunger craves, so you will keep feeling hungry. Put the chips away! Those crunchy tricksters.
I haven’t had a drop of coffee since my last post and if you are a dedicated reader, you know it’s been a while since I’ve shared here, and you also know that I was a coffee addict. I feel better without coffee, honestly- less anxious. I am sleeping well and wake up energized as opposed to reliant on my next caffeine fix. Besides, my taste perception of coffee has changed from finding it delicious to finding it unpalatably bitter. It was my cue to lay off the bean juice for a while.
I am drinking less alcohol too and more water and am feeling and seeing the effects. My skin feels cleaner and brighter, my sleep – less interrupted, my scalp- less dry and itchy. Who knew that all this time relief for dandruff could be a side effect of proper nourishment? Let’s be real, probably many, many people. It just took me a while to trip over the wisdom and notice it.
Adopting healthy habits can feel like an insurmountable chore from the onset. This is the first time it hasn’t felt like that for me. I’m not “on a diet” and I’m not cutting out any foods for good. I am asking myself questions about how I feel when my body signals hunger. I am making choices based on that assessment. I am slowly figuring out my own hunger cues knowing that mine might be different from other people’s. I am sharing with you, because seeing it in my own writing always helps me to make sense of things.
If you are someone who struggles with frequent, false hunger and food cravings, I feel you. I understand the sense that achieving a healthier lifestyle can feel like a hopeless dream sometimes. Let me be one to remind you that the perfect body type doesn’t exist. Beauty and healthy bodies take many shapes and forms. Focus on baby steps and you’ll notice they can take you much further than you think. Talk with your “hunger” cues. Ask them if they are real and maybe your body will get back on speaking terms with you.
Here are a few strategies that I have practiced in order to assess my state of hunger before reaching for food.
Take a short walk or move around.
Talk to or text a friend or family member.
Have a glass of water.
Watch a YouTube video on a subject you enjoy.
Complete something on your to-do list.
Don’t deny yourself foods you love; they make you happy. You deserve to be happy, not deprived.
Try reaching for 3/4 or 1/2 of the portion of a snack you would normally have and save the rest for later.
Settle into the discomfort and hangriness of being hungry so you can recognize it for what it really means. Feel it and question it. Are you bored? Are you anxious? Thirsty? Needs and emotions like this can manifest as hunger.
Have a cup of tea or seltzer; it may feel more substantial than plain water.
Take it one meal at a time and don’t get discouraged if the first few days are really difficult. It gets easier.
Put your typical portion size on your plate and see if eating without distractions of television or phones quiets down the world enough for your body to hear you question if you are full. No one is making you throw the food away. Get some foil or Tupperware and put the rest away for a snack later on. You will be glad for it then!
I am not a medical professional so these tips are simply based on exercises that I have found helpful in my own experiment with adopting healthy habits. I want to feel good in my body because I’ve only got this one and there are people out there who care about me that I want to be around for for a long, long time.
I want to say thank you so much for reading my posts. Writing this was a nice distraction from false hunger this morning.
On another note, some friends alerted me to the difficulties of commenting on these blog posts so I have updated the comment settings for anyone so inclined (Thank you Jean and Darlene!). You all inspire me to be creative and I would love to hear from you. Hope you all have a beautiful, fulfilling, and filling day!
My memories of Brooklyn cloud over slowly with time, coated with the city’s grime that films over its fixtures and ghosts. The exhaust of the exhausted, the grit of the grind, the exhalation of industry. It kept me from opening the bedroom windows on Union Avenue many nights, despite the need for air as the steam heat screamed and clanged, caged within the pipes in our apartment, turning us into puddles as we slept. I’d seen that grime when I first moved to the city after college, blowing sooty mucus into a tissue and thinking, Huh? That can’t be normal.
My body got used to the city air quickly, learning to filter the mystery particles or at least disguise them beyond recognition. My muscles got used to the steps in subway stations, to city blocks, and to running. I ran a lot in the early years of living in the city, training for long distance races under the bright lights in McCarren Park, sharing lane one of the track with serious runners, stray soccer balls, and unobservant spectators. The smell of the track overpowered the scent of sweat. The green turf was grass-like enough and soothing to look at. We collected turf pellets in our running shoes and displayed them on the russet tiles by the front door in the kitchen.
We lived about a mile from McCarren Park at one point before moving to our place on Union Avenue and used to run to and from the track on training days. The nights before trash pickup were always the worst. Some people will know that it’s already suffocating to run in a sports bra, but add having to hold your breath past oozing piles of trash bags at the curb and the small heart attacks that accompany rats darting from those piled, plastic lumps and it’s really great training for lung capacity.
The air always seemed fresher inside somehow, in New York, aside from the city’s beautiful parks and green spaces. Even the musty scent of reclaimed wood and damp hops was inviting walking past the local bars and restaurants. I miss that smell sometimes, now that we don’t go for a pint or two on the regular, like we used to.
After a couple of our usual haunts closed down and transformed into one thing and then another, we discovered a great little place on Berry near Bedford Ave called Juniper. Juniper was a cozy respite from the crowded neighborhood a block over on Bedford Ave and it was BYO, something difficult to find at the time in our corner of Williamsburg. We’d pick up a six pack of Abita Amber, glance at the chalkboard specials to see if they still had the blackened chicken sandwich and the chicken pot pie. Then, the cool, quirky waiter with the untamed hair and the loud 90s sweater would come over, bopping to an internal song that didn’t match the one playing over the speakers. I remember I’d always burn my tongue on the pot pie because I was too impatient and it was too delicious. Mike would always nod in approval after the first bite of his blackened chicken sandwich. We’d sip our Abita Ambers and say, “I really like coming here.” The place made us smile and prompted conversations at every little table inside.
I remember we went to Juniper once and the lights weren’t working, but the kitchen appliances were. The staff had strung white twinkle lights in the kitchen and lit candles throughout the restaurant. They ran out of sandwich buns at one point and the owner ran out and got some more from the grocery store down the street. We enjoyed our meal in the dark alongside other Juniper devotees and respected the hustle of the restaurant staff and owner, who appeared to be having fun despite the evening’s setbacks.
One night, we were looking forward to a hearty, cozy meal at our favorite place and made our way across the neighborhood to Berry Street. We picked up our six pack before heading over to Juniper. In the distance, we saw another couple standing outside the door to the restaurant. They had their six pack too, but they did not go inside. The restaurant was dark. No lights twinkled within. The candles were extinguished. We looked on Google and our faces fell at the words Permanently Closed.
New York is like that sometimes. It will whet your appetite and break your heart. It will soot your nose. It will train and test your strength. And you’ll go on and it will remain with you in your brain, lungs, and blood. When we went the way of Juniper and left the city, I took Brooklyn with me. When we walk down Union Avenue now, we’ve been replaced in our old apartment, but it will always be ours somehow and we too will always be Brooklyn’s.
cozy does it 