Democratic Dining

Image credit:  NY Times

The right to vote is a fundamental tenet of any democratic society. And one of the best things about living in a democratic society like New York is that we get to vote on the things that really matter - like the best restaurants in the City.

Taking out poll position in EaterNY's illustrious competition this year was Bȃtard, at the corner of Broadway and White Street in Tribeca.  Bȃtard is not a huge place, but it has been consistently busy since it opened in May 2014. Like the restaurant reviews, Bȃtard's Michelin star has been glowing.

But while the critics have been raving, it is regular diners like you and me that vote in the annual Eater Awards competition.  So why did we, the hungry people of New York, declare Bȃtard the Restaurant of the Year?

Loyalty might have something to do with it.  One of Bȃtard’s owners is chef and restaurateur Drew Nieporent, whose two previous restaurants on this site also took their names from the Burgundy wine region of France – including Montrachet, that was open for twenty-two years; and Corton (which my friend sadly misses), that enjoyed a five-year run on this same spot.  Bȃtard's name comes from the Bȃtard-Montrachet vineyard in Burgundy, famous for its chardonnay. But the name can also refer to a torpedo-shaped loaf of French bread, and the decidedly less palatable French word for "bastard".  New Yorkers clearly respond to something edgy in their choice of restaurant.

A talented chef never hurts a restaurant’s chances in competition either.  Bȃtard’s kitchen is under the expert control of chef Markus Glocker, who hails from Austria but whose cuisine is also influenced by his time working with the late Charlie Trotter in Chicago, and with Gordon Ramsay in London.  Glocker clearly knows his audience too.  He understands that New Yorkers get bored easily and that we want choice, innovation, and freshness in our dining experiences.  Bȃtard’s excellent menu delivers that in spades.

But everyday New Yorkers also want value for money, and the flexible a la carte menu at Bȃtard allows diners to select an affordable 2-course menu for $55, a 3-course menu for $65, or a 4-course menu for $75.  Whatever cost-effective option you choose, you're likely to also pick something from the extensive wine list to complement your meal.

And so it was that our dinner tonight was a 3-course affair, plus a delicious bottle of "silky, elegant" Saint Joseph Offerus (2011).  My appetiser was the salty but creamy "octopus pastrami", which has been getting fantastic reviews.  The spicy wholegrain mustard nearly blew my face off at first, but it was a delicious contrast to the saline octopus, when taken in small doses.  Main course was the perfectly-cooked branzino (European sea bass).  It was sitting on a bed of pureed butternut squash and grilled lettuce, which added a beautiful smoky flavour.  For dessert I went back to previous diner reviews and had the caramelized milk bread, which is kind of like french toast, but with a brûlée coating.  And with tart berries and sweet vanilla ice cream?  Yes, please.

Bȃtard’s victory as Eater NY’s Restaurant of the Year 2014 guarantees you a tricky time getting a reservation, but you must persevere; the effort will be totally worth it.  Democracy has never been so tasty.

Adopt-A-Holiday

"Freedom from Want" by Norman Rockwell
Image credit here

When you're brand new to this City, or even this country, embracing American traditions can make you feel a bit uncomfortable.  Holidays you'd never previously considered suddenly become a "thing", and you're never quite sure the extent to which you're expected to participate.

Take Thanksgiving, for instance - a very topical example.  It's a national holiday that celebrates a uniquely American episode of world history.  What claim do the rest of us honestly have to commemorate that?  But you know what?  You will.  Through a gut-busting menu, an opportunity to stop and reflect on the people and things that make your life wonderful, and two days off work, somehow you make peace with it.

This year will be my 7th Thanksgiving celebration in the United States and I absolutely love it - in fact, I've loved every single one of them.  In 2011, I actually catalogued all my Thanksgiving adventures and it's great to relive those.  There are a couple of gaps in the timeline though.  I was in London in 2012  so I missed it that year, and in 2013 I was in East Hampton and probably too hungover to write about it so the less we say about that, the better.

With my appetite, you'd expect that food ranks the highest on my list of reasons for loving Thanksgiving, but it's not really true.  I adore the smells most of all.  At this time of year, stores and kitchens across the US are full of delicious, seasonal aromas - cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg.  All of this fragrance spills over into the food (and into my mulled wine) and I'm a very happy girl.  But looking back over all my adopted Thanksgivings, I know I definitely loved the occasions, but I just can't wrap my arms around everything.

For one thing, I have reservations about the turkey.  I know, it's "Turkey Day" but the centerpiece of the entire table isn't my thing at all.  Sidebar though, I do maintain a soft spot for the Butterball Hotline, thanks to "The West Wing" (and you must watch the clip here).  Turkey is everywhere here in the US - but especially so at Thanksgiving.  I don't remember growing up with turkey meat in Australian supermarkets or deli counters - it certainly wasn't on our dinner table at home.  It might be an acquired taste, but it doesn't really taste all that different to chicken.  But then again, everything seems to taste like chicken, doesn't it?  But have you seen the size of Thanksgiving turkeys?!  Some are big enough to feed 20 people.  They take 3 days to defrost, and almost a whole day to cook.  Could you imagine encountering a turkey that big in nature?  Surely you'd just lay down, play dead, and hope it went away.

While I'm complaining, I'm also not on board with pumpkin pie.  I can stomach pumpkin muffins, or even pumpkin cake, but a pie crust filled with cold, spiced pumpkin - most often from a can, of all places - just isn't palatable in my book.  It can't be a texture thing either, because I love cheesecake and banana cream pie and other things that I imagine have similar mouth feel.  Maybe it's because I grew up only eating hot pumpkin - roasted or mashed or in soup.  Perhaps this is one of those culinary hurdles I will never clear.

But trust me, the savoury side dishes are all mine.  Pass me the green bean casserole (fried onions from the can are essential).  I'll take heaping mounds of sweet potato casserole with the toasted marshmallows on top.  And I will fight you for the corn pudding and turkey gravy too.  I can usually take or leave the stuffing (which is often cooked separate to the bird), but if it's made from corn bread and cranberries, gimme!

Food is just part of the Thanksgiving tradition though.  And although I'm not a touchy-feely person at the best of times, I'm quite partial to the tradition of going around the Thanksgiving table and taking it in turns to declare the one thing for which you are most grateful.  Does anyone ever stop at one thing?  I think that's a really important part of the Thanksgiving pageantry - and it's a custom that anyone, from anywhere, can adopt.

Oh and once the meal is over, and your stretchy pants are at capacity, there is nothing more wonderful than lounging in front of the annual Thanksgiving football games.  Even after all this time in the US, football is another tradition that I'm still appropriating, but I'll get there eventually.  I have also adopted my friend Jeff's tradition of watching "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" on Thanksgiving afternoon.  It never gets old.  What a way to give thanks for all the blessings in life!

Given the blogging hiatus of the past two years, I'll definitely be writing about my 2014 Thanksgiving.  As a heads up, it will not feature turkey or pumpkin pie, but there will still be plenty of food, gratitude, stretchy pants, and food coma hallucinations to be had.  And for that, and for so much more, God Bless America!

NYC loves the lad from Liverpool

It's no secret that New York has a special place in its heart for John Lennon.  On December 8th, 1980 the music legend was shot and killed in front of his residence, The Dakota on West 72nd Street on the Upper West Side.

For the next five years afterwards, Lennon's widow, Japanese-born artist and musician Yoko Ono, worked with local landscape architects to designate a quiet zone across the street in Central Park, and the infamous Strawberry Fields site was dedicated on 9 October 1985.  But Lennon's memorial doesn't just belong to New Yorkers.  In fact, 121 countries around the world have declared Strawberry Fields in Central Park, with its "Imagine" plaque, to be an official Garden of Peace.

Image credit here

Peace activism was certainly a very prominent part of Lennon's life with Yoko Ono.  Indeed its a very strong theme that British-Australian artist John Waters explores in his wonderful production of Lennon: Through A Glass Onion, showing at the Union Square Theater on East 17th Street (until 22 February 2015).

Now I grew up watching John Waters on Australian TV, and he seriously hasn't changed a bit.  I'd probably watch him read the phone book though, so I'm a biased reviewer.  It is therefore quite reassuring to me that the critics at the New York Times felt as positively as I did about this production.

Waters does not impersonate Lennon during this show, but he does tell his story in a first-person narrative.  And Waters has been performing Glass Onion since 1992, across Australia and in London's West End, so he's had plenty of time to polish it up.  While Waters belts out excerpts from some 34 tunes on guitar and maintains his strong vocals throughout, piano accompaniment and harmony is provided by the excellent Stewart D'Arrietta, whose theatre pedigree includes a recent stint as musical director for The White Album Concert at the Sydney Opera House.

The show plays without an intermission, but if you're a fan of the Beatles, or the magic combination of Lennon & McCartney, you'll love this play.  I came away thinking it's just the kind of retrospective production that I could imagine Lennon doing, had his life not been so dramatically cut short.  The tale Waters spins is frank, and at times rather humorous - but always very self-effacing.  The songs complement the plot and as such, their lyrics take on a poignancy you might not have previously attributed to them (such as in the case of "Julia"about Lennon's mother, and "Beautiful Boy", about Sean Lennon - the son that John wasn't sure he and Yoko would ever have).

The show revealed Lennon to be a talented, complex, thoughtful man who loved his wife and his family, and had great times making music.  But it's clear that John Lennon always knew there was more to life than being a rock star.  Indeed, the Lennon/McCartney song "Glass Onion" pokes fun at those people who were inclined to look too deeply for meaning in Beatles lyrics.  In Lennon's mind, there were much more serious issues to be concerned about in life.

Throughout the show, I remember thinking how much I wanted to buy John Waters and Stewart D'Arrietta a beer afterwards.  But I think what I really wanted to do was to pull up a barstool alongside John Lennon.  It will forever be a shame that on that cold December evening 14 years ago, we were all robbed of the chance to ever do that.

Midtown is alive with the sound of music

Image credit here

A stone's throw from Carnegie Hall, and just off the lobby of the Le Parker Meridien hotel in New York you'll find Klavierhaus Recital Hall, a recording studio and concert space.

The Recital Hall is actually affiliated with Klavierhaus Corporation, which maintains an amazing collection of antique, hand-crafted and restored concert pianos - including famous names like Hamburg, Steinway, and Fazioli.  Some of the Klavierhaus collection is now at Carnegie Hall, in Lincoln Center, and even at the White House - but you can see their full inventory here.

The Recital Hall itself isn't flashy from the outside - if you didn't know it was there, you'd easily walk past it.  But it seats about 70 people and its unique design, from the caramel-coloured floorboards to the minimalist decor, ensures that sound fills the entire space.

I was fortunate to come to the Recital Hall yesterday to marvel at the talents of my colleague Peter, his wife Hilda, and their friend Tim, who played a free concert arranged for clarinet, piano, and cello.  The carefully-curated concert was an excellent opportunity for all three instruments - and all three musicians - to shine.

When I asked him afterwards, Peter indicated he most enjoyed playing the first work - by Jeanne-Louise Farrenc.  In fact, Farrenc was the only composer on the program whose name was unfamiliar to me.  Born in France in 1804, Farrenc came from a family of sculptors, and while she was a prolific composer during her lifetime, she did not compose for opera - which was definitely the popular thing to do (certainly if you wanted to make any money).  As a result, Farrenc has enjoyed posthumous fame for her instrumental compositions and chamber music.  I sat in the front row for the concert, so I didn't take any photos - but if you are curious about Ferranc's work, and the piece that Peter particularly enjoyed playing, click here for a video of Canada's Amici Chamber Ensemble playing it.  You will see what I mean about it being a beautiful piece to showcase all three instruments.

After Farrenc, Peter took a break from his clarinet duties so Hilda and Tim could play a four-minute piece by Sergei Rachmaninoff.  Being more familiar with the Russian composer's work, I was expecting Hilda's fingers to go flying off the keys, but Romance in D major, Op4 No3 was, for the most part, a dream-like, relaxed piece and a great duet.

To close the program, Peter took the stage again and the trio collaborated on a Mikhail Glinka pice called Trio Pathetique in D Minor.  Glinka is perhaps most famous for being the first Russian composer to gain wide notoriety in his own country.  This particular piece is most often played by clarinet, piano, and bassoon - but of course I only know this after having poked around the internet a bit.  During the concert yesterday, the cello seemed like the perfect instrument to join in; they all fit together seamlessly.  And in THIS piece, I reckon Hilda played all 88 keys on that piano - her fingers were literally dancing across the keyboard; it was really great.

I suspect that little Recital Halls like the Klavierhaus are dotted all around New York, but my enjoyment of them is always maximised when I can celebrate the talents of people I know up there on stage.  Encore!

Has US history always been this delicious?

So last week I was obsessing over the idea of pan-fried scallops (and thank heavens Pearl Oyster Bar in the West Village could provide).  This week's culinary craving was pork crackling, and I don't mind admitting that I was rather resolute in my commitment to ugly-cry if I didn't get it.

I needn't have worried though, because I have been assured that pork cracklings will forever remain a staple on the menu of King Bee - a wonderful new restaurant in the East Village that opened in early October. 

The restaurant specialises in "Acadian-inspired cuisine" and if that sounds unusual to you, you're not alone.  Without geeking you out entirely, Acadian cuisine basically dates back to the late 17th/early 18th Century.  The Acadians were the descendants of French colonists living in the Canadian Maritimes provinces (modern-day Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, and New Brunswick).  They refused to pledge allegiance to the invading British forces, and in August 1755 over 11,000 Acadians were basically kicked off their land.  While some fled to Georgia, many of the Acadians ended up in Louisiana, and there they developed what we know as Cajun culture - the language, the music, and especially the food.


The Arrival of the Acadians in Louisiana, by Robert Dafford (Image credit here)

King Bee pays homage to this chapter of American history by adapting Acadian-inspired recipes for more modern palates.  The concept totally worked for me but then again, any restaurant whose menu leads with pork cracklings gets a gold star in my book!  The minimalist decor and white-washed walls with funky canvas art allow the food, the bespoke cocktails, and huge wine list to be the real stars of the show - and the formal reviews and informal write-ups from diners have so far been very positive.  This review from the New Yorker had me ready to camp out at the restaurant early.

Our table of four tonight was pretty keen to share a bunch of dishes to maximise our enjoyment.  With excellent service to take care of us, we sipped glasses of tasty Beaujolais (two excellent recommendations) and stuffed ourselves with the pork cracklings and rabbit rillette, plus some faro salad, baked oysters, gumbo, roast chicken, poutine with lamb neck, lobster, and earthy mushroom risotto.  Dessert was a shared piece of the traditional Cajun gateau de sirop - so sweet and tasty.  Definitely "food coma" material.

I had not heard of Acadian cuisine before my visit to King Bee, but I totally loved it.  I really enjoyed the mix of heady spices, and the big flavours present in each dish we tried.  But I'm especially pleased that King Bee has proudly classified itself as "Acadian-inspired" rather that simply "Cajun" or even "Southern" or something more generic like that.  The unfamiliar reference to Acadia made me curious, it got me Googling, and I learned a bit more about US history and the diversity of cuisine available in New York.  And what a tasty lesson that turned out to be.

Art lives here

Walk along Washington Street in the West Village and you'll be struck by the beautiful old brownstone buildings nestled amongst some of the coolest coffee shops and little restaurants in the City.  It becomes very clear that this part of the West Village is a real residential neighbourhood - the traffic is quieter, the sidewalks are less congested, and everything seems more calm somehow.

But it wasn't always like this.

Westbeth Inner Courtyard
Image credit here

At the corner of Washington and Bethune Streets, you see a maze of 13 buildings that occupy an entire city block.  From the 1860s, this was the headquarters of Bell Laboratories, the largest industrial facility in the world.  They were responsible for innovations like televisions (black & white and colour), radar, vacuum tubes, and they also masterminded the first broadcast of a baseball game. But did you know they also hosted the headquarters of part of The Manhattan Project during WW2?  Atomic bomb research, you guys!  Serious stuff happened here.  No wonder NYC has preserved the building as a landmark and added it to the US National Reigster of Historic Places.

When Bell Laboratories relocated to New Jersey in the 1960s the buildings were renovated to become self-contained loft apartments.  At the time, the Greenwich Village/West Village neighbourhood was a haven for artists and musicians, so when the building was transformed (and federally-subsidized) into the Westbeth Artists Community, and they advertised affordable housing, tenants came running.  Before long, Westbeth became the world's largest artist residence and home to a creative community of visual, literary, and performing artists from across the country.

Forget about trying to get an apartment in the building these days, because the housing waiting list closed in 2007 (bummer).  Nevertheless the artists in residence are still producing some beautiful work that the building cleverly displays in its corridors and on its walls. 

I would also recommend you visit the Westbeth Gallery, the building's dedicated exhibition space.  The Gallery is a non-profit site that showcases the talent of its resident artists but also hosts independently-curated exhibitions.  The Gallery is open from Wednesday to Sunday, from 1-6pm and admission is free.  

From now until 29 November, the Gallery is exhibiting the work of the Bowery Gallery Founding Members.  The Bowery Gallery was born on Halloween 1969, as a gallery of artists for artists.  The founding members argued that they didn't need to exhibit their work in fancy galleries or be represented by big-ticket agents with lots of money. The figured if the art was worthwhile, it would find its way to an audience.  It is a group exhibition featuring the work of 19 artists from the late 1960s to the present day.  I loved the mixed media, and the bright colours and diversity of the artwork in this exhibition - it was great to explore watercolours, sculpture, drawings, and oils all in one space.  You'll see the link to my photo album at the bottom of this page.

And if you're in the neighbourhood this coming Saturday (15 November), you must visit the Flea Market in the basement for their $5 bag & box sale.  For a $5 donation, you can take an empty box or garbage bag and fill it up with all manner of goods that the artists and their families have donated.  You'll find clothes, books, shoes, furniture, homewares - only jewellery and fine art are exempt from the bargains.  Get there early to avoid disappointment!  All proceeds go towards the upkeep of the Westbeth Housing Community and surrounding public areas.

Post by The ABCs of NYC.

To market, to market

You might recall a couple of weeks ago I headed to Park Slope in Brooklyn and learned about the Farmigo company and their farm-to-table food deliveries.

Well fresh food has been on my mind, and yesterday I headed into Union Square Park for a trip around the regular Farmers Market.  It started as a Monday-only affair but has grown in popularity with vendors and customers alike.  These days you can find the open-air market in Union Square from 8am to 6pm every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday.

There's even a map of the market online so you can plot your adventure ahead of time, but there is something equally enjoyable about just strolling between the stalls and seeing what is available and fresh on the day.

With a cup of warm apple cider in my hands, I did exactly that.  I just wandered from stall to stall and marvelled at the bounty before me.  Every vegetable you could think of was represented - and the colours and varieties seemed endless.  But beyond fruits and vegetables, stalls were selling meat and fish, cheeses, wine, honey, merino wool, and even wheatgrass shots.

There were just as many tourists as locals at the market yesterday - and I could see some people there who were well-known to the vendors, chatting amiably and heading straight for the produce they wanted.  Regulars just doing their weekly grocery shop, I guess.  We are very spoiled in New York to have access to such wonderful farms and local providers a short distance away.  And don't forget that Union Square is serviced by numerous bus routes and subway lines, so you should definitely come to see the Market when you're here.

Post by The ABCs of NYC.

A gem in the West Village

I don't get food cravings often but when I do, they are very specific.  Earlier this week I needed to eat a half-dozen natural oysters.  I was willing to be flexible on toppings - lemon juice or vinaigrette would be fine, but I just knew that oysters had to feature somewhere on my menu.

Now, I've been to a couple of good seafood restaurants in New York, but to satisfy this particular craving I was keen to try somewhere new.  Enter Pearl Oyster Bar on Cornelia Street in the West Village.  It's a vintage restaurant by New York standards - it has been going strong for 17 years already, but I had never been there until tonight.

I have to say from the outset, Pearl Oyster Bar suits its name from top to bottom - it is a real neighbourhood gem.  Walk by too fast and you'd probably miss the place, were it not for the crowds of people milling around and waiting for a table.  The bartenders that manage the beautiful marble bar at the front of the restaurant keep everyone well hydrated while they wait, so nobody seems to mind much.

Despite its obvious popularity, I didn't discover this restaurant by word of mouth; rather, I simply Googled "best seafood in New York", et voila!  The internet is full of diner reviews and articles singing the praises of Pearl's chef-owner Rebecca Charles, particularly for her lobster rolls which seem to be the restaurant's best-seller (and not just for lunch).  Rebecca spent some time in Maine and she's recreated the state's signature sandwich for hungry New Yorkers, but her repertoire also includes a number of other seaside-inspired recipes, including those in her fantastic cookbook, Lobster Rolls and Blueberry Pie.

The lobster rolls will have to wait for next time though, because tonight I only had eyes for six plump oysters, laid out on the half-shell and spritzed with a bit of lemon.  Blissful.  Main course were delicious pan-fried scallops with asparagus, mushroom and creamy mashed potatoes on the side.  And for dessert?  A quinelle (oh yes, I know my cooking terms) of the most decadent and rich chocolate mousse, with the lightest of whipped cream perched on top.  A perfect combination.

I can never say where my next food craving will take me, but I can assure you that I will come back to Pearl to revisit the very affordable food and wine menu, and to enjoy the friendly service that greeted me tonight.

The intimacy of the holidays

"City Crowd, Cop and Ear" by A. Robert Bermelin (1980)
Image courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Thanks to holiday tourism, Manhattan's population increases by anything up to five times during the November to January period.  Great for the economy, but a nightmare for your nerves!

Having said that, I've started my holiday season in a very positive state of mind.  After all, November is my favourite month of the year in New York.  The weather is cooler, the clothes are more snuggly, and there's holiday anticipation in the air.

I spent the weekend pulling my winter clothes out of storage and donating whatever summer clothes no longer fit, or which had otherwise seen better days.  I'm no fashionista, but it's great to be back in opaque tights and knee-high boots again.

My first batch of home-made pumpkin soup is now in my fridge, ready to heat and serve after a busy day at work.  Such domesticity has a shelf-life about as long as the soup itself, but let's ignore that.

Central Park is at its most colourful right now, and the Fall Foliage map is a great reference point to see all the trees at their best.

It seems that every day I get emails reminding me to order my Thanksgiving turkey - and every side-dish I could possibly imagine!  I worked out that this year will be my 7th Thanksgiving celebration, which sounds terribly lucky.  While I'd usually prefer savoury dishes over sweet, I can never refuse roasted sweet potatoes topped with toasted marshmallows and brown sugar.  Don't knock 'em till you've tried 'em, honestly!

Equally irresistible are the ticket offers for The Nutcracker and the Radio City Musical Hall Christmas Spectacular, both of which I absolutely love and would see multiple times over.

And I was also a bit excited that the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree has been selected on a farm in Pennsylvania, and the 85-foot monster will be felled tomorrow.  The tree-lighting ceremony will be held in New York on 3 December, bringing traffic to a standstill and driving all the locals crazy.  I usually avoid Rockefeller Plaza like the plague, but there is something magical about the ice skating rink and the Christmas tree - even just the promise of them is exciting.

For me, even though there are five times the number of people pushing and shoving for spots on the subway and space on the sidewalk, November in New York will always be an affair to remember.

Give it a rest!

Much like Garfield, I've always been more partial to lasagne than Mondays, but I have to say that I'm facing this week with renewed vigour.  I think this is largely the result of putting myself to bed at 8pm on Saturday and Sunday nights this past weekend.  Two consecutive evenings of excellent sleep seem to have done the trick.  New York City may not sleep but at some point, its residents must.

Back in the early 1800s, the hustle-bustle of New York City ended at 14th Street and everything north of that was farmland.  The air was fresher, you could swim in the East River without contracting something nasty, and the wide open spaces that weren't being farmed were being used for horse riding and for quiet walks.  And it was to areas like these that busy New Yorkers flocked when they needed rest and recuperation.

The Mount Vernon Hotel is one of the oldest buildings in New York.  Built as a carriage house in 1799, the building once sat on a sprawling estate owned by the daughter of former US President John Adams.  The property chanegd hands a number of times over the years and the carriage house operated as a hotel from 1826 to 1833, and was a hugely popular spot for daytrippers from the southern parts of Manhattan.

Mount Vernon's location, on what is now residential East 61st Street, may seem quiet by New York standards, but it's still opposite one of the busiest Bed, Bath & Beyond stores in the City, and in the shadow of the bustling Queensboro Bridge which is trafficked by 183,000 cars and nearly 800 bicycles per day. 

In fact, if you ride the tram over the Queensboro Bridge to Roosevelt Island, and look out the northern side of the tram as you pull away from Manhattan, you get a great birds-eye view of the Hotel.  See?  My sincere thanks to the lovely Gaynor Shaw for her excellent photography!

These days, the Mount Vernon Hotel is run as a museum - a time capsule, really.  When you go there, you're transported back to a quieter period, when New Yorkers would check in early morning and spend the day in pure leisure.  Ladies would retire to the upper rooms for reading, sewing, listening to music, or catching up on the local gossip.  Men would sit downstairs and play card games, smoke cigars, and (no doubt) enjoy a pint or two of the local brews.

Male visitors to Mount Vernon would have been especially fortunate because their downstairs location put them in easy reach of the delicious smells emanating from the busy hotel kitchen.  The small complement of hotel staff would serve a lunch of delicacies such as turtle soup, or roasted meats and vegetables - all included in the daily hotel rate.

In those days, it was rare for visitors to stay overnight at the Mount Vernon Hotel.  It really was just a retreat for the day - a chance to recharge your batteries before once more heading back into the fray.  But one story I particularly liked was that of Scottish traveller, James Stuart, who stayed overnight at Mount Vernon as part of a three-year tour around America.  During his US visit, Stuart was enormously critical of American manners (or lack thereof) and he documented his many complaints throughout his rather rare volume, Three Years in America. Of course I had to buy the first volume of this work from the Museum bookstore afterwards, to see how he finds New Yorkers.  I suspect it will make rather compelling reading.

Mount Vernon Hotel has been beautifully restored and is staffed by friendly, knowledgable tour guides.  Admission to the Museum is $8 for adults, $7 for seniors and students with appropriate ID.  Children under 12 can get in for free, but must be accompanied by an adult.  The Hotel also runs education programs for NYC school students, and there is a donation box in the lobby.  Even if you just deposit a couple of dollars, your contribution will ensure these valuable programs continue.

Another thing to bear in mind is that you're not allowed to take photographs inside the Hotel but outside photos are fine.  The Hotel maintains a beautifully-landscaped back garden that gets a lot of sun.  Sure, the garden is much smaller than the estate's originally 23 acres, but for a New Yorker who is more accustomed to living in a one-room studio apartment, it was a very restful oasis indeed.