Hipster Tours: From Lower Haight to the East Village

         For the holiday break, I've come to New York to reunite with Mauricio. We found a tiny studio apartment overlooking Tompkins Square Park where the street cacophony has been lulling me to sleep. We've left the window open and you can hear the hum of traffic in these springlike breezes along with laughter and conversations among humans and among dogs. Even the hard landings of skateboards sound like the endings of cassette tapes. The street music is retro and comforting but probably goes down suburban ears like poison.

 Dutch Facades near 

                                                                                                                        Tompkins Square Park

         I know you're not supposed to willingly slumber in New York but I took an oversold, redeye flight where a young, handsome guy was having seizures two rows ahead of me at 3 in the morning. He ended up surviving but all the stewardesses crowded around him like mother hens. The head nurse made that stomach-turning request on the PA ("Is there a doctor on board?") and a female nurse came to the rescue to take his blood pressure and medical history. It was high-drama, Delta style.
       At 7 a.m. I was ill prepared for the monstrous size of JFK and my own ineptitude of getting to Manhattan by public transportation. After taking a hot shower, I collapsed on the futon bed in my man's arms. Between bursts of holiday activity, I've been taking little naps as a way to rebalance.

A Little Bit of SF in NYC

     
           Refreshed, we've been enjoying the city as enlightened tourists but I cannot help but feel that we've fled Hipster West (Lower Haight and Divisadero) straight and non-stop for Hipster East (East Village and Williamsburg). It's not so much that I'm following the pack (Am I?), it's just that I've come to appreciate exceptional quality in the experiential. I can't speak for Mauricio about this desire for elite experiences but we have gone back and forth about which city calls to us more: NYC or SF, as if these two burgs on the extremities are the only two cities that matter. It doesn't help that The Huffington Post just mapped out the pair's punishing income ladders, making these two cities the most expensive in North America. Somehow I must be a master of cognitive dissonance.

 Yes, We Did the Obligatory 

                                                                                                                     Brooklyn Bridge Crossing

        For dining, we hit the following gems: Juliette in Williamsburg where we had the divine Eggs "Forestiere": fried farm egss on sourdough garlic toast with wild mushrooms, creamed Tuscan Kale and artichokes. In Little Japan on East 9th Street, we veered to the culinary west and tried Tsampa, a Tibetan restaurant with a soothing, earth-toned decor where I relished the Sherpa Kala, a dish of baby potatoes, diced chicken, greens, garlic and ginger served with tibetan bread. On Monday night, we visited that old New York standby, Veselka, a high-class Ukrainian Diner that serves borscht and hearty sandwiches.

The Lost Member of 

                                                                                                                     The Velvet Underground

       This was just the gastronomical part of our stay ...