New York City ... there’s no place like it. Like it? I do!
Written by: Janet Pope Photography by: Donald
Janet revisits her New York City roots from the perspective of a tourist.
Even though I’ve lived in suburban Long Island for five years, when asked, "Where are you from?" I still automatically say, "Brooklyn!" After being raised in the best New York City borough - Brooklyn, Manhattan was no stranger to me. Growing up, we made periodic treks into Manhattan, particularly to Radio City for the Holiday show. Sometimes we visited my uncle, who had what seemed to me to be a glamorous life in the entertainment industry. Anyway, as a teenager on dates with my future husband, in the late 60’s, we traversed into the "Big City" to wander the streets of Greenwich Village or take in a show. I mention all of this as background. Fast forward several decades, and now I am living in the suburbs. I continue to cross the bridge into Manhattan for an occasional play or for unfortunately a quick trip to the doctor. For some reason those trips are very contained – there’s always a strict purpose and goal.
Our last travel assignment brought me back to Manhattan, the city I assumed I knew. This time though, we were not going with a sole goal or focus. This time we went as explorers and tourists for a weekend.
We packed our bags and took the Long Island Railroad for an easy ride into Pennsylvania Station. We then got to our hotel, the Gorham Hotel, by way of a short subway ride. I was hesitant but felt brave and adventuresome. We were at our hotel with no problems.
There's a definite pulse to the city and I noticed the minute we stepped onto the city sidewalk our steps quickened to match the crowd.
We checked into the Gorham Hotel on West 55 Street and 7th Avenue, a walking distance from the Theatre District. We were deceived upon entering a very small lobby, but our rooms were large and spacious. We had a living room, bedroom, bath and kitchenette area. The bath was fully tiled with a welcoming whirlpool tub.
New York is a walking town so, despite a slight drizzle, we headed towards our dinner destination- the "Palm" restaurant. Let me preface my description of this 1920’s eatery by apologizing. I know I will have to "gush" out praise but the "Palm" is worth every bit of it. "This was one of the best meals I have ever eaten" – excluding my mother’s home cooking. Let me first give some background. Pia Buzzi and John Ganzi opened the "Palm" in the heydays of the roaring 20’s and three generations later, their descendants are still running the place... as well as 27 other Palm restaurants across the country.
The Palm
The place is noisy, busy, and there are caricatures painted on the yellow hued walls. What’s not to love? Even the walls vie for attention with pictures of the famous and not so famous. The atmosphere has a masculine feel to it, as traditionally all American Steakhouses do. We sat in a dark oak booth, on a table covered with a crisp white tablecloth. The sawdust on the floor has long been gone, but the menu remains basically the same- steak, seafood, Italian specialties, salads and cheesecake.
The Palm’s, New York clientele are politicians, advertising executives, sport celebrities and professional eaters.
Though known in the past for its cranky, no nonsense waiters, our waiter Jeff was exceptionally helpful. We asked him for suggestions and, as I said, our meal was outstanding. In fact my mouth is beginning to water as I think back, mmmm. For an appetizer, I had lobster cocktail. If shrimp cocktail is the queen of appetizers, then lobster is the king. With pieces of white lobster meat surrounded by cocktail sauce, this is seafood without the work.
Don tried the baby lamb chops, sometimes called lamb chop lollipops. There were six of them served with mint jelly, and in a short time, all that was left on the plate were the bones. Jeff recommended surf and turf and what arrived was easily a meal for a family of four. Accompanying a lobster that overflowed the plate, was a rib-eye steak done with crisp outside, medium inside, perfection! Creamed spinach and hash brown potatoes came in family sized bowls.
Don and I tried our best, but there was no way we weren’t ending up with "doggie" bags. Everything was delicious, but you already got that idea.
When asked to describe our meal Don moaned something about "enjoyably gluttonous." We sat back feeling pleasantly stuffed when wait staff came by to squeeze a lemon on our hands and then handed us a warm moist towel. Ah heaven!
As we swore that we couldn’t eat another thing, good old Jeff came by to taunt us with dessert descriptions. (He seemed to take a certain delight in the pains of our culinary weaknesses.) We caved in and I ordered the carrot cake for myself, and a tartuffo for Don. I tried to be strong but the description was so good. I told you ahead of time that I would gush. It was a memorable meal.
If you are in a city with a Palm restaurant, put it on your "to do" list. They often run dinner specials, which can make this fine dining establishment affordable.
Did I get my point across? Go to the Palm.
Being well fed, we took the subway to the Astor Place Theater to see a late show of the Blue Man Group. First off, we were happy to find our seats were beyond those where plastic raincoats are needed. I can’t tell you more or I would be giving too much away.
A Blue Man
Dinner was easy to describe, this is not so easy. Three people come onto the small stage, faces covered in blue. Without speaking a word for the next 2 hours, they somehow entertain you by spitting paint onto a canvas, catching balls in their mouths to music, unrolling wads and wads of paper across the whole audience, and banging on drums. The humor was physical with lots of audience participation. The laughs are not based on jokes but reaction. It was great fun as you kept anticipating the unknown.
Now we began to feel like pros in the city as we found the nearest subway and looked forward to the hot tub and the Gorham. Tomorrow would be a full day of shopping, museums and exploring.
