This was a business trip with a sightseeing weekend tacked on the end, and Mom brought along for a treat. We indulged in all the New York tourism standards: theatre, Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, Fifth Avenue, mile-high sandwiches. Everything, really, except shopping. (I have a month stretching ahead in St. Louis. Why buy anything in pricey NYC?)The highlight had to be the unexpected treat of getting into one of the hottest shows in town, South Pacific. (Deep thanks go to a colleague at my advertising agency with fine connections in the entertainment industry.) This revival has received rave reviews and is one of the toughest tickets in New York to get; they're sold out 'til October. It's also one of the few New York musicals not playing in London, and I wanted to see something I couldn't get at home.
Of course, it would be hard to do South Pacific badly. It has to be one of the finest musicals of all time, with a soundtrack that delivers one romatic standard after another. I would imagine most people (at least most with a decent range of songs from the classic age of American songwriting on their iPod) can sing along with the majority of the show without even thinking about it. Of course, don't try that here. The cast delivers a range of voices that deserve to be appreciated for every note. Great sets, sensitive direction, fantastic acting. I hope this one does come to London; it's a guaranteed hit on either side of the Atlantic.
We opted for a combined ticket with City Sights NY for our sightseeing transportation. $64 per person got us tickets good for 72 hours that included four different bus tours and the boat out to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis island. We didn't use half of the potential, but it was still a good deal. Live guides provide commentary, giving me lots of new insight into the city. I particularly enjoyed the uptown tour, which took you up and down the two sides of Central Park (pointing out where the rich and famous live) and zig-zagging through Harlem, which is a vibrant and rather genteel community not at all deserving of its rough reputation. The downtown tour took me past more familiar sights, and established a list in my head of places to which I'd like to return.
The pinnacle of the sightseeing, however, was the cruise out to Liberty and Ellis Islands. I'd been to Liberty Island and the Statue of Liberty as a kid. (Back when you could climb to the crown; a different age.) Mom had never been. So it was great fun to explore together. Lady Liberty is at her most impressive when you're standing directly beneath her. These days, in a harbour surrounded by skyscrapers, massive cruise ships and tankers, she doesn't seem that big from a distance. But get next to her and you realise what a monumental feat her construction is, and how beautiful she is as a work of art. We skipped going into the base, which contains a museum and requires advance reservations. But if you had more time, I'm sure it would be worth it.
More important to us was moving on to Ellis Island. If you don't have a personal connection to this place, it would just be mildly interesting. But for my mother and me, as for millions of Americans, it was an emotional journey back to the place where part of our family's American story started. My grandfather arrived here as a young boy in 1906. Was he frightened? Excited? Overwhelmed? Questions I wish I would have asked him when he was still around, but which the child-me never considered. The managers of the museum do a great job of trying to answer those questions for us, with exhibits
that track the immigrants' experiences and their impact on America's growth. It's sobering to realise that this place had been abandoned, fallen into complete ruin and was almost torn down. What a tragedy that would have been for American history. As part of the fundraising to get the building restored, organisers built a wall featuring names of hundreds of thousands of immigrants who'd passed through the island and whose families later donated funds in their memory. We found my grandfather amongst a substantial list of Ferraras. All along the wall, visitors were stroking names. Some smiling, some laughing, some crying. All, no doubt, thinking about those brave adventurers who made our lives and our country such an impressive place.Back on Manhattan, the visit was dominated by the quest for the perfect deli sandwich and slice of cheesecake, with a cold can of diet Dr. Brown's cream soda to wash it down.
Don't panic, Ferrara's View isn't sliding downmarket on you. Of course New York is filled with elegant dining opportunities to match those of any world capital. Out with colleagues, I enjoyed several magnificent and potent cocktails called "Parker"s in the sophisticated lounge of the Algonquin hotel before heading off to dinner at DB's Bistro Moderne. No, you cretins, it's not some "Sex in the City" libation named after Sarah Jessica Parker. This fine twist on the martini honours Dorothy Parker, the rapier-witted author who formed part of the circle of writers who hung out here and made the place famous in the early 20th century. No doubt they pack enough of a punch to deliver on one of Parker's more famous quotes: "after three, I'm under the table, after four, I'm under my host." But we moved on to dinner before there was any danger of that.
DB's is a more casual offering from famous New York chef Daniel Boulud, providing fine French food in a buzzy, modern setting in midtown. It is perhaps most famous as being the place that started the Manhattan gourmet burger wars, introducing what at the time was the world's most expensive hamburger. One of my colleagues tried this concoction: a ground mix of sirloin, fois gras and short ribs topped with truffles. I went for a more traditional grilled haddock option, preceeded by some beautifully prepared artichoke soup, which thrilled with its simple presentation of that vegetable's unique taste.
Both excellent culinary experiences. But, short of touching the ghosts of the Algonquin Round Table and hoping some of their literary magic rubs off on me, all things I can match quite easily in London. What I can't get ... anywhere outside of New York, really ... is a pastrami on rye with hot mustard and a giant pickle, piled 10 inches high and delivered by a big guy with an accent straight out of central casting.
We conducted a compare-and-contrast exercise at two famous delis: Katz and the Carnegie. Katz' is downtown on Houston and is the pick of most of the tour guides. The atmosphere is fantastic; a big, casual dining room gives everyone the chance to watch the production along the long deli counter. We opted for a classic Rueben here, and got that satisfying taste sensation of corned beef, Russian dressing, gooey cheese and sauerkraut. One of Katz's claim to fame is that their meats are hand cut. You get thick wedges of meat rather than the wafer-thin shavings of most other delis. I suppose it depends on your taste, but this did not seem an advantage to me. It made the sandwich almost impossible to eat, as the meat was too tough to sever with your teeth, and emphasised the fattiness of the corned beef.
Ergo, the prize must go to the Carnegie Deli. More expensive (inevitable due to its mid-town location near Carnegie Hall) and less atmospheric (you're wedged in at shared tables with other diners into a space that's cramped and rather dark), I thought both their sandwiches and their cheesecake had the edge on Katz. A warning to the uninitiated: at either place, it's best to split a sandwich or plan to take half home. My half of a $21 sandwich ... plus $3 sharing fee ... at Carnegie (turkey, corned beef and swiss on rye) was then split in half again, providing generous amounts for both lunch and a dinner snack on the plane home that night.
Plenty of places around America try to copy the experience, but there's nothing quite like the proper New York deli. Whether Katz', Carnegie, or places yet to be discovered ... long may they be dishing up the nosh.
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