Lava lush

The barman was on a beach in Thailand a week or so ago when the shop had someone else’s logo in the window, and the Drug Store’s precious elixirs were only available on-line. But in just a few days a vintage neon sign was sent courtesy of e-bay from Texas, menus and mugs were printed, and lemons arrived in a flurry from Florida. Around the corner, jars layered with cake cream and custard were making the same splash. One day the space is empty, the next day there is a sign in the window demanding ‘Don’t call me cupcake’. This is the latest wave of enterprising entrepreneurs in town for the summer season. Welcome to the popup!

Until the Drug Store materialized in Elizabeth Street, the only way to order a detox of filtered water, cold pressed lemon juice, dandelion root, muddled ginger root, and activated charcoal (made from coconut shells) was by text. Good grief. If only I had known. How fortunate then that this trendy tenant provided just the opportunity to experience a whole new taste sensation by opening a storefront, albeit temporary, in the heart of Nolita. On a hot summer’s day just the idea of a cool stopover with lots of lemon and ice was irresistible – and a detox would never go amiss.

According to the PR person, patient and non-plussed at my intrigue, activated charcoal creates an adsorbing effect to toxins. She quoted a famous experiment in France in 1831, when a professor ingested a deadly dose of poison, but lived to tell the tale because he mixed activated charcoal with the strychnine. Apparently the charcoal prevented the poison from being absorbed into the body. While this was not a selling point in itself, tasting charcoal in a controlled environment did have curiosity value. And who can resist a cocktail at 11am? In all honesty, if I was blindfolded I would have believed I was drinking lemonade. However, the concoction did leave a lingering texture in my mouth that had me thinking about the beach all afternoon…

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Art Felt

A bodega, even a pretend one, would not cut it in NYC without a cat. So when English artist Lucy Sparrow started her epic 9 month, 16 hours a day saga to create in felt an entire convenience store, all the hand-sown soup cans, sausages and cigarettes in the world would not have authenticated this essential New York institution like a felt feline. And Blackie was just like the real deal.  There was not a rodent to be seen – well, except for a felt mouse hiding in a felt bucket (next to the felt spillage and the felt mop ). What a feat for felt!

You had to see this bodega to believe it. A felt ATM machine dispensed felt money, a felt mincing machine ground felt burger meat above the felt meat fridge, there were felt facial tissues, felt frozen peas and felt champagne ( French of course ) which was unfortunately sold out. In fact the entire store with all 8,000 pieces was well on it’s way to selling out. Instead of the two to three hundred visitors expected each day, there were two to three thousand. People streamed from the Whitney around the corner to line up in the sun, some fainting in the heat, others stumbling into the shop hoping to buy a real bottle of water. In the end a city hot dog stand had to set up on the sidewalk outside to accommodate the unfelted needs of the crowd.

A self titled feltist, Lucy believes that art should be accessible for everyone. For just $30 or $40 you can pick up a felt chocolate bar or a felt can of Spam and so begin your own art collection. You could even pay with a felted cheque, as an enthusiast apparently did. For me it was the entire concept that was hilarious rather than the need to take something home. Which was where I was headed. After all that feeling, it was a coffee that I really felt like…

 

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Portrait of a Lady

Brunch at The Morgan Café is always an excellent start, especially for the road weary, who may need sustenance not just for the body, but also for the spirit. After trekking the tourist trail around the world, French toast with berry compote and maple syrup may be just the ticket. And yes, delicious! But there is currently an added treat for travelers in need of a little other-worldly inspiration. Currently at the museum, the muse for Henry James’ novels Portrait of a lady and Washington Square lies as a golden effigy overlooked by her painted self – both artworks by her husband Frank Duveneck. The peacefulness and beauty of the sculpture is breathtaking. Lizzie Boott was an inspiration for Henry as she was for Frank, and so as well for those of us who carry her joy onto the next destination…

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Water Pistol Warriors

The water fountain was the only reprieve. No shooting, water bombs or spraying while waiting to refill. Or at least that was the order than everyone yelled if they were on the receiving end rather than the giving. While tar was melting on tarmacs around the country and the heat wave was baking the Big Apple, dozens of kids in Central Park took to water pistols of every shape and capacity to survive the day. What fun. Welcome to summer!

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Do Dough or Don’t..?

A new bakery in NYC is breaking all records. Since opening in January people have waited up to three hours to get to the front of the queue. The craze is not for a new style of cronut, the deep-fried cream-filled creation of Dominique Ansel, or for the divorce themed cupcakes of Sweet Revenge, this sweet shop has a totally different attraction. Served in cones and cups or blended in milkshakes, choices like Fluffernutter, Gimme S’More and Peanut Butter Snickerdoodle could be classic American ice cream, but instead they are flavours of cookie dough, raw cookie dough.

For the salmonella sensitive, please be assured that the eggs in DO’s recipes are pasturized and the flour heat treated. All 1,200 pounds made every day. The owner herself was apparently in a coma for weeks after a bad reaction to antibiotics, so one imagines the health angle is well covered. So that just leaves the eating. There was no queue when I visited last weekend, which might mean the craze for Do is done, or it could just be that too much dough can do you in…

Photo of DŌ, Cookie Dough Confections - New York, NY, United States. Double scoop of salty n sweet & signature chocolate chip!

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Titanic twist

$2.75 will buy you more than you imagine in NYC. You can travel from one world to another, from the Cloisters to Chinatown, from the Bronx to Broadway, and on the way encounter those unexpected moments that make life in this city so addictive. Now there are even more reasons to get hooked. The Mayor has introduced a whole new network of ferry rides, and the longest, from Wall Street to the Rockaways, is a beauty. Even when the weather is not.

Pier 11, just below Brooklyn Bridge, is the kickoff point for a one hour high speed ride that takes in the Statue of Liberty and a killer view of lower Manhattan, before tacking south for a one stop pause in Brooklyn and hitting the open sea. On Monday the fog was so heavy that the ride became a titanic adventure. Towering freighters appeared out of nowhere, bridges suddenly arched overhead, and visibility turned white, while the fog horn blared long and loudly at anything that might be in the way. Fortunately the warning worked – or didn’t need to – but the magic of the mist conjured up the adventure of the unknown, and when the Rockaways finally appeared out of the fog, it was like discovering a new world.

The ferry has a full bar should the idea of icebergs prove too daunting – although clear skies on another day would provide distracting views of Coney Island, Red Hook, and the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean. Sandy leaves a legacy on the fringes of the shore and the massive building at Sunset park still strides the railway tracks where trains from all over the country deposited their troops on the way to the Second World War. You may be lucky enough – as we were – to have a fellow cyclist point out the highlights along the way, and unless you do as he did and ride the 3 hour journey from beginning to end, you will need another $2.75 to get back to town…




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Quack

Rembrandt had a run for his money this week in NYC. The master was on show at The Frick with a privately owned painting aptly named Entertaining the Angels. But as art lovers flew through the doors in anticipation, there was a more earthly distraction awaiting. The ducks that return to the famous garden every Springtime were having an exhibition of their own. Ducklings! Noses were glued to the windows as these little darlings ducked and dived and paraded around the pool. Imprinting kept them close to their mother, a classic bonding, while downtown a thespian billing staged a totally different but equally endearing story.

Manhattan is a honey comb of stages and theaters tucked away in walk-ups and secret spaces. Open bars and lounge room comfort make more for a club than a playhouse. From the street you would be none the wiser of the talent and performances that bring life to the nooks and crannies of that vast hard earned world of Off Broadway. It’s the place where young talent finds an audience, and on Saturday night as a standout in a short play festival, ‘Quack’ was a fabulous find. Bailey Newman played the cute discovery and then the constant companion of a teaching professor, with the audience as bonded to her gorgeous energy, as we were to her loss when she realised she was a duck.

The Fricklings may not have to endure the heartbreak of their theatrical cousin – Central Park will be a welcome home for their aspirations. But watch for Bailey in the bright lights of Broadway, she won’t be a duckling forever…

 

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Lunch with Rod

Eataly has never disappointed. And just as well. Doing lunch with Rod Quinn in NYC for the second time in a decade, I only wanted success. And interesting, delicious, fun, and with just the right amount of buzz. No pressure! The Flatiron was an excellent starting point. From there we could do Eisenberg’s, Chanson, City Bakery, Eataly rooftop, Edition Hotel, Maison Kaiser, Beecher’s, Dough, LA Burdick or even Shake Shack in Madison Park. We could have burgers, pastrami on rye, pretzel croissants, homemade pasta, oven baked pizza or something really flash. Like wild Alaskan salmon with lemon scented Spring vegetables… You can only have lunch once. Eataly it was!

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Zen, art and fashion

Dressing for the MET Gala may not have been quite the challenge I would have thought – if I had even been invited in the first place. I could have wrapped myself in red fabric, tripped the line between good and bad taste, worn a Leunig headpiece, or with flounce upon flounce of florals, blurred the lines between form and fabric forever. Such was the licence of the theme, set by the current exhibition at the MET honoring Japanese designer Rei Kawakubo. Rei is recognized as ‘one of the most important and influential designers of the past 40 years, by inviting us to rethink fashion as a site of constant creation, recreation, and hybridity’. These creations are not clothes one would wear – in fact Rei said even making this comment shows one has missed the point completely. But if there was anything to be learned by her inspiration, or the draw of fashion, it was the age of the young students at the exhibition yesterday. While the Met continues to be the center of controversy, with financial woes, changing ‘suggested’ to compulsory admittance fees ( for foreign visitors anyway ) and a gaggle of Gala fashionistas exposed with illicit selfies and smokes in the bathroom on party night, this grand old Gotham institution may survive yet. For fashion, or art, or design, to bring a group of young teenage boys to a museum with their sketch books and enthusiasm, there is the greatest chance that we haven’t seen the last of the red carpet and all that it rolls out for…

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Merewether

A fresh sea breeze has blown in from the north coast of NSW and found a welcome home in the West Village. While good coffee is no longer the illusive pleasure it was in New York, Merriweather adds a little sunshine just by association with that white beach and blue water. Peter the proprietor was unfazed when I said his mum had sent me, but six years working as a lawyer in NYC adds a little cool – and would make the best barrister become a barista. A very successful one at that. The place is busy, there were no pastries left when we swung by, avocado toast was pumping, and the coffee was a real heart starter. While Peter says the cafe is not necessarily promoted as ‘Australian’, that fabulous flat white meant he didn’t have to…

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