Bridge Analysis

When you ride a bike and live in Brooklyn, bridges end up forming a large part of your existence. On a day-to-day basis, I can find myself facing the Manhattan, Brooklyn, Williamsburg, 59th St/Queensborough, and/or Triborough Bridges. And these are not just convenient connectors from Point A to Point B; each has its own personality, vibe, soul.

Brooklyn: A classic, of course. If you're picking only one to walk over, it's probably this. You... and every other tourist. Which doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. Just be prepared to move slowly, and for god's sake stay out of the bike lane.

Williamsburg: Thick and industrial from a distance -- nothing to write home about -- but up close, inside, it changes character completely. Instead of squat and grey, suddenly it's bright red. Biking across, partly because of the red, and partly because it goes up, then down, then up and down again, feels like riding a long, slow roller coaster. It's a fun bridge, but it can get crowded. They're local crowds though, unlike the Brooklyn, so everyone generally knows enough to stay out of everyone else's way. Cool views of the Empire State Building and Domino Sugar Factory are also a plus. It's the bridge on which you're most likely to encounter skateboarders.

Manhattan: My personal favourite. Closest to the Brooklyn, it tends to suffer by comparison -- sort of a little-brother situation. But... It's nicer to walk across, if you're making a habit of it, waaaay nicer to bike across, and, frankly, it's prettier. The Brooklyn has those iconic stone arches, but the Manhattan is blue and sort of lacy, and anyway it gives you views of the Brooklyn.

Triborough: It's only very recently I've become familiar with this one. How often, really, does one need to travel between upper Queens and Harlem? As it turns out: sometimes, actually, these days. And I'm glad of it. Riding across the Triborough, in this case, means taking two bridges, with a cut across Randall's Island in between. This is not a bad thing; like the Triborough itself, Randall's is weird and empty and cooler than you expect. The Harlem > Randall's section is the more normal bit. Randall's > Queens is where it gets a little trippy. Great views on both sides (Hell Gate on the left; Manhattan on the right) and a complete lack of fence next to you, so that one good tip will send you plummeting to your watery doom.

59th St/Queensborough: My least favourite. It's not longer, but it feels longer. It's boring and brown and altogether unclear on whether pedestrians or bikers should stay to the right. And then it dumps you in Midtown.

RECIPE: Black Bean Soup, with a secret ingredient.

Green-Wood Cemetery

Some cities have an aura of death about them. Paris, New Orleans -- it doesn't take much to imagine a consumptive Moulin Rouge dancer, Baron Samedi following a second line, dissipation, voodoo, vampires, decay. Every guidebook ever written will tell you to visit St. Louis Cemetery Nos. 1-3, Lafayette Cemetery Nos. 1-2, Père Lachaise, Montmartre...

New York is a different story. I mean that literally: the narrative of this city does not lend itself to gothic glamour the way Paris' and New Orleans' do. This doesn't change the fact that we have some damn fine cemeteries of our own. The best, IMHO, is Green-Wood.

A few years ago I was working for an art copyright/licensing company. It was a decent stopgap -- they had health insurance and an unbeatable SoHo location, and I actually find copyright law pretty interesting -- but I wanted something a little more. One of my favorite classes in library school had been Conservation Lab, where we built archival boxes and bound books with fancy marbled Italian endpapers. It was tangibly satisfying, and I was good enough at it that the professor remembered me fondly and put me in touch with a colleague of his, who was also the archivist at Green-Wood Cemetery. For the next year, two mornings a week, I cleaned and bound books and encased blueprints in mylar. I enjoyed the work, but the best part was just being in Green-Wood that often.

Green-Wood Cemetery opened in 1838 as a solution to the problem of people dying in Manhattan. They needed somewhere out of town -- convenient enough for a day trip, but far enough that cholera wouldn't be a concern. So Green-Wood was built as a cemetery, but also, fundamentally, as a park. It was a bucolic escape from the city, the first large municipal green space here, years before Central or Prospect Park were a glimmer in Olmsted's eye. Visitors promenaded and picnicked and, from the tallest point in Brooklyn, looked out over the Harbor where one day the Statue of Liberty would stand.

With green areas multiplying across the city, Green-Wood doesn't see nearly the same level of visitors nowadays, but the ones who do make the trek are amply rewarded. There are all manner and design of mausoleums, a chapel that's a miniature of Christopher Wren's Tom Tower at Christchurch, weeping angels galore, and, of course, the parrots.

The story goes that some time in the 70s, a shipment of parrots escaped their crate at JFK. (Questions like: who was shipping them; how did they escape; and who ships crate-fulls of parrots anyway? remain unanswered.) They found their way west to Green-Wood, where the Gothic gates (designed by Richard Upjohn, the Trinity Church architect) proved an irresistible home. They've been there ever since. If you stand under the arches you can hear them squawking, and if you look up you can see how their nest is slowly consuming the top spire. They're monk parrots, and apparently their style of living -- communal, monastery style -- is responsible for their survival. Parrots that lived separately in individual nests would never last a winter here. Keep an eye on the ground too; you may find a bright green feather.

Green-Wood is also, thanks to Baked in Brooklyn, the best-smelling cemetery in the world. Unfortunately picnics are no longer allowed, but if you pick up a muffin and walk around eating it, no one's going to complain. Green-Wood also holds regular special events, often in the evening. There are daylight tours too, both official ones with the cemetery historian and others.

Everyone comes to NY and sees a Broadway show; hardly anyone comes to NY and sees a candlelit circus in a cemetery. Check it out.

MAP
RECIPE: Turkey Chili. Pretty much the only time I'll allow ground turkey in the house. This one's a crowd-pleaser.

Coffee

R and I were talking recently about what the defining foods and drinks of NY and London, respectively, might be. When it came to the NY drink, he didn't hesitate: "It's coffee."

Blue Bottle, Williamsburg

Every morning I look forward to my simple pour-over. It isn't fancy, but it beats by a long-shot the k-cup machine that is our only other office option. In addition to being terrible for the environment, k-cups just don't make very good coffee. There's also a very real pleasure in coming in every morning, boiling water, heating my milk, and watching the coffee drip for four minutes. I'm not kidding when I say I look forward to it.

But for those who can't or won't make their own coffee, rest assured that's no reason to go without.

Starbucks of course is everywhere. They provide valuable wifi and bathroom services and will happily (grudgingly) even give you a free glass of water. (NYC tap water is excellent. There is no excuse for buying the bottled stuff.) I also, very occasionally, like maybe once a year, admit to enjoying a matcha frappuccino or gingerbread latte. About the rest of their offerings, the less said the better.

I will give Starbucks credit for one thing though -- well, a combination of things. Starbucks taught America the difference between a cappuccino, a latte, and an americano, and that paying over $4 for one was not extreme, and in doing so helped create and foster a new coffeeshop culture. Without Starbucks we might not now have Stumptown, Blue Bottle, Brooklyn Roasting Company, etc. It's a sort of Microsoft effect, where they built something everyone had to have, and as soon as everyone did, they became uncool.

In any event, the question stands: Where should you go for coffee in NY? (Because you should, definitely, go for coffee in NY.)

Stumptown, Red Hook The Basic Cup: If all you want is a basic cup of coffee, maybe with milk and/or sugar, keep an eye on the sidewalks. Every morning until about 11 or 12, silver carts set up on the street corners. They offer coffee, pastries, and other snacks, and some have grills for breakfast sandwiches. These are not to be confused with the halal lamb/chicken-over-rice carts, the hot dog carts, or the smoothie carts. They are silver, disappear after lunchtime, and charge $1 for a small cup of basic coffee. It won't change your life, but it's cheaper and better than either Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts.

Why, how do you carry yours? Iced Coffee: If coffee is the drink of NY, iced coffee is the drink of Summer in NY. It is not going too far to say that on certain mornings, it is veritable manna from heaven. And you can get a perfectly cromulent cup from the silver carts ($2 for 16oz), but if you want to step things up a bit there are a few alternatives: + Blue Bottle New Orleans + Miscelanea Cafe Helado con Horchata + El Rey Vietnamese Iced Coffee (Any place that does banh mi will also have this on the menu.) + Toby's Estate Espresso Julep + Stumptown Nitro + Cold brew (At pretty much every serious coffeeshop these days.)

Milk Bar

Espresso Drinks:

I'm not a big drinker of espresso on its own. It has its place (namely, after a multi-course meal with my father), but generally when I'm drinking espresso, I'm drinking a cappuccino. Still, this does not happen often. Just as there exist iced coffee mornings -- humid, hungover -- there are the "sweet mornings of perfect repose" meant exclusively for cappuccinos.

Cappuccinos are not an everyday drink, nor are they a cardboard cup drink. They must be unhurried, luxurious, possibly topped with a sprinkle of cinnamon, enjoyed near a window, preferably with a cat and the crossword puzzle.

My favorite cappuccino in New York is at Brooklyn's Milk Bar. They also do a killer avocado toast, and sometimes Michael Cera comes in to buy scones. Yes, it's in Brooklyn, but so are a lot of the best things in NY. If you're looking to make a day of it, it's within easy striking distance of the Brooklyn Museum, Botanic Garden, and Flea.
MAP
RECIPE: Lamb Burgers. The lamb is cooked in the pita, which makes things both easy and incredibly delicious. I like a shmear of goat cheese on top as well.

Getting Help

New Yorkers are known as a fast, unforgiving people. This is largely fair. We walk fast, talk fast, and are disinclined to let strangers get away with minor infractions. As Thornton Wilder put it, "Density of population increases irritability, lonesomeness, & a censorious view of the behavior of others." However.

There's a trick. Do you need help? Directions, information, advice? ASK. Ask, and you will find New Yorkers to be the most patient, instructive people in the world.

LES

It's a simple transaction: Indicate your need, and we will meet it. Not least because New Yorkers love to show off how much they know about New York, and how great it is.

If, instead, you choose to indicate your need through entirely passive means, you're on your own. Squint at the map all you want, no one will come to your aid. In New York, you're expected to take responsibility for yourself -- to own your actions.

Brooklyn Bridge Park

Of course if you're fine with squinting at the map, there's no problem. Personally, I'd much rather muddle around under my own steam, figuring things out as I go. Nothing wrong with that. Just please, please don't get in anyone's way. Pull over to the side of the pavement, don't block doors or crosswalks, don't stop suddenly in confusion. Get in anyone's way, and you won't get help; you'll get a sharp elbow in the back.

Update: Actually, sometimes you will get help without asking for it. Like, if you're not in my way, but you're having a loud discussion with your friends about an issue that I can easily resolve... Imma jump in and solve it.
For example, this group of girls near the edge of Central Park today, trying to figure out which way was north. Their GPS wasn't helping, and NY is slanted enough that the 2pm sun only confused them further, so as I was walking by I just said "That way. [pointing] That way is north."

RECIPE: Waffles. Halve this, but use two eggs, and it's perfect for two people.