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Taxi to Bangladesh

If there's one thing I love about NYC, it's taxis. My love affair began when I was four years old and first raised my arm in that now-familiar gesture on the corner of 97th & Columbus. My mother promptly informed me that, no, we would be taking the bus. I thought surely she was joking but, much to my dismay, she wasn't. And thus my captivation began.

Perhaps partially in an attempt to rationalize a cab ride (when I could no doubt just as easily take a bus), I generally like to think of a Manhattan taxi ride as an opportunity to learn something new about countries I've never had occasion to visit, mostly by schmoozing with the driver. Call me an old lady - it's okay, you won't be the first.

The other day I had a very pleasant ride with a driver from Bangladesh who had picked some rather charming tunes as the soundtrack for our afternoon excursion. I complimented him on his music choice and he was visibly tickled - the passenger just before me had ALSO enjoyed the music! I inquired as to the name of the artist and was told his name was "Habib" and that I could look him up on YouTube - so I did!

Habib Wahid (better known just as "Habib", kind of like Cher) is a young Bangladeshi composer and musician who mixes traditional Bengali folk music with contemporary techno. Habib is a second-generation performer: his dad, Ferdous Wahid, was a Bengali pop singer in the '70s & '80s. Habib himself has released five albums: Maya, Moina Go..., Shono!, Panjabiwala, Bolchi Tomake and Aboseshe. He is most well-known for his song, "Din Gelo" which you can listen to by clicking here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooVJh0CDqU0

Enjoy! And may all your taxi rides be educational ones!

Man On Wire

If you grew up in New York City in the '70s and '80s like I did, you know about the guy - the crazy French guy - who walked on a tightrope between the two towers of the World Trade Center. Even though he did it in 1974, it was still an active topic of conversation for New Yorkers years later. In one way, Philippe Petit's unbelievable act fit perfectly with the emotional landscape of the time: an insane act for an insane town. But in another way, his daring feat was a testament to the possibility of the impossible and, along with that, a message of hope to a city that had gone a bit astray.

I noticed that the documentary Man On Wire showed on the Sundance Channel last week. I saw the film in the theatre with my husband (another native) and it blew me away for a number of reasons: the simplicity of its story-telling, the chance to hear Mr. Petit describe his triumph in his own words and the love for this town that bathed every frame. Because even though we all know the true end to the story, like any recollection of lost a love, the film focused on the good times and thoroughly respected our memory of them.

If you've never seen footage and you have an extra two minutes and ten seconds, click here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAVj2IVC9ko&feature=related

And if you have room for an extra movie in your queue, here's a link to add Man On Wire, if you haven't seen it: https://www.netflix.com/Login

Monday Night Feast

My husband is the most divine chef. I have to say that I am the envy of my female co-workers when I pop open my tupperware, filled up with left-overs for lunch. "Does he do house calls?" they've asked. "Um, no, ladies." I've replied.

When I tell the girls of my menu last night I will most certainly be greeted with envious groans:

Spaghetti with octopus in a red sauce infused with bone marrow

Pan roasted hanger steak with sides of creamed spinach

& roasted assorted mushrooms with bacon

Vanilla ice cream sundae with chocolate sauce,

topped with roasted walnuts & pinoli

Pasta cooked to perfection. Yum. A red sauce of which any nonna worth her salt would be justifiably envious. A steak to rival Peter Lugar's. Creamed spinach that made my arteries close up shop for the night and roasted mushrooms just the way nature intended: sautéed with bacon. Double yum.

Our dinner guest was equally impressed as I. Wearing a heavy drape of food coma, he stumbled home with left-overs of his own.

One of the topics of dinner conversation turned to New York City restaurants. Here are a few of our collective faves (in no particular order):

Blue Hill (in NYC and at Stone Barns)

Dovetail

Daniel

Tia Pol

Saul's

Dinosaur

Piece of Chicken

Unidentified Flying Chicken

Patsy's (the O.G., please)

If you are so inclined, chime in on your NYC faves.