NYC has always been about food. It’s what I missed most when I moved away for 5 years. I’m not talking about the fancy foodie stuff either as I was still just a kid really, when I moved away. My friends and I probably never spent more than $15 a meal and most times it was well under 10 bucks. We were on art school budgets and if you knew how, you could eat really cheaply in NY, including knowing which art openings to go to when you knew there would be an open bar.

I don’t remember cooking at all during that era, even though I’m sure we did, but why would we? There was so much good food to be had. Like most people, we had our regular rotation of spots including the deli down the street from school on St. Mark’s Place where we picked up our bagels and egg sandwiches for breakfast before our first class. The deli guys knew all the Cooper Union kids so well that they were familiar with all our major projects and wished us luck on whatever grueling 4 hour critique we faced that day. Strangely enough, I didn’t drink coffee back then. I’m not really sure what I did to get through all those years of undergraduate and grad school but it wasn’t caffeine. Maybe being young was enough to pull all nighters.

During those early art school years when I was living on my own, first on Baxter Street in Chinatown and then on St. Mark’s in the East Village, I started discovering foods that were new to me. Having grown up eating the usual American-type fare as most kids growing up – you know, shake and bake chicken, pork chops, spaghetti and meatballs – I had a fairly typical American diet mixed in with Korean and other Asian food. But then I discovered Ethiopian, Indian, Middle Eastern, Ukrainian, Mexican and Thai. I was a vegetarian back then as were most of my friends, and I was even vegan for a few years as well, but there were so many options and I didn’t miss eating meat at all (years later, after 8 years of being a strict vegetarian, it was missing sushi that did me in).

These are the restaurants that I missed when I moved away, the places that I pined for until I would come back to NY in the summers and holidays: Abyssinia on Grand Street for Ethiopian, Ali Baba and Mamoun’s Falafel on MacDougal Street, Rose of India (really any of the places on Indian row) on 6th street (also the Indian Place on 1st ave up the steps that clearly won the contest for the place with the most over-the-top Christmas lights, an odd trend for Indian restaurants at that time), House of Vegetarian on Mott for vegan Chinese food, Benny’s Burritos for huge over-stuffed quesadillas, the Kiev and Veselka for Ukrainian in the East Village, Dojo for the soy or hijiki tofu dinners – at $2.95 and $3.25 respectively, the cheapest filling dinner you can find (and the prices, so I hear, are still not that different 20 years later), Holy Basil Thai food on 2nd ave, Cafe Mogador for their carrot ginger soup, Cafe Yaffa, Cafe Orlin, Sin-é, all on St. Marks, Angelika Kitchen, Life Cafe on 10th and Avenue B, Venerios Bakery for pastries.

Many of these places are still there, some are gone, but these are the places of my youth and a big part of the memories I have when I think about that era – East Village, NYC, circa ’88-91.

It’s funny, but I haven’t been back to any of those restaurants except for maybe Cafe Orlin and most recently, Venerios, since I moved back to NY in ’96, this time with Mark. Maybe because when I left the city on New Years Day in 1992, I wanted to leave it behind and bury those memories for good, as well as the people, the places, my friends and just start over. But we were walking around that neighborhood with the girls after school on Friday afternoon and we walked by an empty storefront on 2nd Avenue where a health food store used to be. I quickly peered in, I couldn’t see much, but this is when some of the memories flooded back. I had a sudden urge to go have some stuffed cabbage and pierogies at Veselka (the Kiev, as we knew it, is long gone) or sit on the bar stool of that tiny, narrow 2nd Avenue (I think) restaurant where we would get mushroom barley soup or whatever the soup of the day was (people of this era, please help me out – what was this place called!? I cannot remember. *edit: Yes! A reader came through – B&H Dairy ).

We didn’t end up doing that. Instead we made our way to some of the East Village comfort spots like the Takoyaki stand and take out sushi from Sunrise Mart, places we used to go to when we lived on 12th street. These are newer food memories, when the East Village became more Japanese and I was going to grad school at Tisch at NYU in the late 90s. I guess because these memories are fused with more recent trips with the girls, they don’t hold that same level of nostalgia. Maybe it’s just as well. Some memories are meant to be sacred. Maybe these places are better left untouched, suspended back in time when we were young and in art school.

Related: NYC stories Part 1, City of Ghosts, City of Memories.

Love the handmade Mother’s Day gifts from the kids. I love that Mia planted 2 little marigolds in a cup covered with foam hearts at school. I remember making gifts like this too when I was a kid. And I love that Claudine’s people drawings now have life-like proportions (a torso, a waist) and accessories (short, puffed sleeves and nail polish bling on the fingers, though the number of fingers on each hand seem to have multiplied).

Mother’s Day. Now that the Flea has been moved from Sundays to Saturdays and Mark doesn’t have to work anymore for Mother’s Day brunch, we get to have that holiday back. We have nothing planned, however, and I’ve been supremely lazy the last couple of days. I’m not going to wax deep words like I did last year on Mother’s Day. These days it’s fairly simple. I feel equal parts exasperation and equal parts Hearts in My Eyes when it comes to the girls. It’s the little things that make the day. A simple, absent-minded reach for my hand when we’re walking down the street; a pat, a lean with encircled arms and a squee as one of the girls walk by while I’m on the couch working. This is the stuff I try to focus on.

And a bar of Mast Brothers chocolate given to me today by a friend doesn’t hurt either.

I could have sat around the house all day waiting for emails that never came, but instead I went out and walked around the city all day. I was on an agenda this time though. I still had birthday money to spend and I wanted to spend it. Too bad there was nothing to spend it on. Ladies, there is a whole lot of fug out there in the stores right now. Seriously, this is my third time trying to shop for clothes and I have come up empty handed all times (actually, I lie. I bought a gray cashmere sweater on final sale today. Who buys a sweater when it’s 80 degrees out? I won’t be able to wear it for 6 months.)

It’s not everyday that I have money to burn so it’s been disappointing not being able to find anything that I’ve wanted to buy. For kicks I tried on stuff that I’d never consider wearing, just for fun.

Like jumpers (or is it rompers?). I thought that trend was so last year? But, yes they’re still selling them in stores so I tried one on and no. Just…no. Especially when I dressed 3 year old Claudine in a cute denim jumper just yesterday. Can you imagine? The 2 of us walking down the street in jumpers together?

Long maxi dresses with spaghetti straps. So not me. I have a neighbor who looks great in them (I’m looking at you A), but I feel ridiculous, like I’m wearing a nightgown or like I should have a wreath of daisies in my hair while skipping across a wildflower meadow.

On the other end of the spectrum – mini-dresses. Guys, I feel like the hems of skirts and dresses have gone up in the last few years. All the dresses are shorter than they used to be. I’m actually ok with that, but some of the dresses are so short. Like this dress I tried on just for fun. OMG, so unexpected, but LOVE. I feel like it was much shorter than what it looks like on the model which is odd since I’m sure she is at least 3 inches taller than I am, but it just only covered my butt (or so I felt). Obviously I’m not spending that kind of money on a dress I have nowhere to wear to, but if I did… (where was this dress when I was looking for something to wear to the Webby Awards?).

Which brings me to things I always gravitate towards when shopping:
Stripes, particularly navy blue and white, like that dress. How many striped shirts can a person have (many) and why do I still reach for them in a row of shirts on the rack?

A-line, trapeze-style dresses. This one is odd. I don’t understand my attraction for dresses like these since they give you no shape at all and I almost always end up wearing them with a belt. But maybe they appeal because they’re like the equivalent of Thanksgiving pants – you know, you can stuff yourself at dinner or a party and still be comfortable and nobody would ever know how bloated you were.

Sequins, beaded and shiny things. I don’t know where this comes from. Maybe from all those years being obsessed over the East Village drag queens and going to Wigstock at Tompkins Square Park. I just don’t know, but I always need to examine anything shiny and glittery up close. It’s not like I wear stuff like that (oh, I have a few things, I’m not gonna lie), but I really need to step away.

Gray. Like striped shirts, I have too many gray things – t-shirts, sweaters (see? I just bought yet another gray sweater), tops, dreses. It’s a sickness that needs to be stopped. I try to wear more color and sometimes I succeed, usually with bright green of all colors, but I’m always drawn to anything that’s gray.

Skinny jeans. Why do I have to try on a pair of skinny jeans at every store, why? It’s not like I need any more, sheesh.

So today’s shopping trip was a total bust. It was frustrating. Visions of the new improved me with new clothes was not to be, not until there are more interesting stuff in stores. Bummer. But as I was starting to head towards the train to get home after a long day of wandering around, I randomly ran into an old friend, a friend who I hadn’t seen in awhile, but is like my quintessential NYC friend. Why? Because when we were hanging out like every week back in 1999 and 2000, all we did was walk around the city, sometimes taking buses to nowhere in particular and other times just aimlessly wandering around, preferably in dramatic, inclement weather. Our lives have each taken different turns and we don’t hang out as much as we used to, but how fitting it was to bump into him on a day when we both had a rare window of free time. So what did we do? We walked some more and then stopped into the Ace Hotel for some iced coffee. We shared the bar of chocolate and compared notes on how old we’d gotten. Just like old times. And a good day was had after all.

One day last week, I took Mia out one night to Manhattan after an early dinner and it was rad. We went to a skating show at Chelsea Piers because she’s taken a real interest in ice skating this winter and I wanted to see Johnny Weir skate (ha!). This is the first time Mia and I have gone out together on our own. Now that she’s older I want to do this more. You know, when I think about my recent big birthday I don’t feel old, but what does make me feel old sometimes is the fact I have a 6 year old. I can see myself with babies and toddlers, but a 6 year old!? It’s one thing to watch your kid turn into a young girl, but quite another to accept that they are no longer babies and let them grow up to be exactly who they’re meant to be. She’s a kid now, with peer pressure influences and comes home sometimes asking if she can have a cell phone or an ipod or wondering where our country house is (hahaha, nice one).

Like every stage in parenting, this age is a learning curve for us too (no, you can’t wear makeup. no, you can’t have pierced ears till your older. why? because you’re only 6 and when I was 6, I was still playing with those wooden Little People sets and my Cher doll). Sometimes I’ll wonder what kind of mom I’ll be when the kids get older: best friends like Rory and Lorelei from the Gilmore Girls? (nice thought, but I didn’t have Mia when I was 16, so probably not), Carol from Beverly Hills 90210? (god, no. did she actually do anything on that show other than give Brenda and Brandon pep talks with her sympathetic, doting looks?). Elyse Keaton from Family Ties? (she was an architect, right?). Oh, I don’t know. Guess I’ll just be me. But the cool thing about having a girl who is just going to get older is this whole new “companion” thing. No, I’m not talking about taking the kids on an outing kind of thing, but real girly companionship (and I’m just going to completely ignore for now all the scary things about raising girls. You know, like that movie, Thirteen. Jeezus.).

When we took the subway into 23rd Street that night and walked to Chelsea Piers, the sun was still out but the light was already turning a dusty purple. The streets were bustling with people heading home from work or meeting up with friends for drinks and dinner, spilling out of sidewalk tables. We walked by the red carpet for the Tribeca Film Festival and Mia gawked at camera crews and ladies in pretty dresses and heels and wondered what the line in front of the theater was for.

By the time we got out of the ice show, it was dark. 8:40 and NYC was lit up. She’s only ever been out this late in the city a handful of times and I think maybe more than the show, she was excited to be walking around at night with all the grown ups. She kept saying that she saw no other kids around, that she was probably the only kid in the whole city still up and out. If it wasn’t a school night I would have wanted to take her to a cafe for some tea and cake. Maybe another night. We have all the time in the world. Just me and her, 2 girls in the city.

You’re intrigued, aren’t you?
Mark’s been far too busy to make any desserts at home, but once in awhile, if we’re lucky, a container of ice cream will magically appear in the freezer or a new cookie might appear under the cake dome. We’re not the type of household that always keeps a pint of ice cream in the freezer (hey, why is that?), but Mark’s ice creams, as I’ve mentioned before, might very well be one of my favorite treats and this flavor, malted milk, might be one of my favorite new flavors.

Have I ever told you that when we used to day dream about opening our own business one day, we always thought it would be an ice cream business?

But getting it wasn’t exactly easy. I always thought that if you wanted to buy something, you could just go to the store, purchase it and take it home. But for some reason something so deceivingly simple as buying a TV took a whole day and trips to 4 stores, including 1 very hellish experience waiting for a full hour at Best Buy with 2 overstimulated and whiny children, only to be told that the 3 models we were interested in were sold out at the store.

And something really odd happened in the buying process. We didn’t really know what brand, what size, what model, but as we were staring back at the wall of TVs, first looking at 37 inches, and then 40 inches, we kept looking at bigger and bigger TVs trying to convince ourselves that maybe what we really needed was a huge 47 incher or the newest LED technology and this, that and the other new thing – hell, we just didn’t know it yet! But eventually we did come back to earth and kept focused on our goals: to replace the old, hand me down tube TV that, as massive in size as it was, was really only a 28″ TV.

After a very frustrating and unsatisfying morning, we ended up with a most pleasant, last minute decision at PC Richard at the end of the day and was assisted by my new best friend, the PC Richard TV sales guy. He and I joked around, traded small talk and got along famously. When the TV of our choice looked like it was out of stock yet again, he whispered that he’d make us a deal and sell us a brand new model of the Samsung 40 inch TV that wasn’t yet on the sales floor. And magically, our TV appeared.

We took it home and despite the speedbump along the way (oh, you know, where our car died on us driving home from Long Island), we had our new TV.

Now, the funny thing about kids is that sometimes they don’t really like change. As Mark got down to unpacking and setting up the new TV (which, by the way, is plenty huge in our living room and any bigger would have entered into the realm of the ridiculous – what the HELL were we thinking? 47 inches? Psshwtt.), the kids were skeptical. “We don’t like this new TV, we like the old one!”, “Are we going to be able to watch the same shows on this TV? ‘Cause the old TV has all our favorite shows!”. We assured them they’d be able to watch all their favorite shows and as proof turned the TV on.

The other funny thing about these newfangled LCD HD TVs is that if you don’t have an HD cable box, the picture, especially on some channels, looks like…you know, crap. Well, we don’t have an HD cable box, but after a day or so, you kind of get used to it and you think to yourself, eh, I could live with this. Yes! We ARE that cheap that we are unwilling to shell out the extra $12.95 a month for digital cable after buying a $900 TV! Pathetic!

So the most stressful part of this whole TV buying ordeal was getting rid of our old massive set. I don’t know. These are the kinds of things that stress me out and make me anxious. We put an ad out on Cragislist and our local Yahoo group for a free TV. I was skeptical that anyone was willing to take away a massively heavy old-school TV and I worried that we’d have this thing, that was now sitting on the floor in front of the window, here forever. But we got 2 serious inquiries. The first inquiry completely flaked and was a no-show (HATE that), so we went to our next guy. He came the next day, was punctual, and seemed thankful to cart the TV away. “My kids are driving me crazy!”, he said. “They need their own TV for their video games!”. Cool.

Our TV taker was Korean (it’s clear from the name on his email). He was older than us, maybe by 10 or so years. Apparently this is the conversation that went down between him and Mark in the elevator as Mark helped him take the TV down to his car.

TV taker: “Oh, your wife is Asian? Korean, huh?”

TV taker: “Korean women cook good!”

Mark: “I do all the cooking.”

TV taker: “Wha?” (pause) But…Korean women cook good. Hmmm.”

TV taker: “Does she speak Korean?” (pause, then answers the question to himself) “Probaby not…”

Awesome! TV taker for the win!

Hey weather, what’d you do with Spring? 88 today. Hot and humid. And guess what? We finished Mother’s Day orders 1 full day ahead of schedule. All that’s left is to pack them up in shipping boxes and drive them to the post office. It was civil, it was calm. Mark’s a baking machine and got up at the crack of dawn for the last 4 days to bake and was back home by the time the girls were eating breakfast. I wrapped hundreds and hundreds of brownies. We even had time during the day to spend some quality time with the girls both days over the weekend with small trips to the Farmer’s Market, Brooklyn Flea and the playground for sprinkler time. How? Because we rule and we’re badass.