It was Mother’s Day, and Kam and I were both motherless in the big city. Mine has been gone since 2000, and his is on the exact opposite side of the country. So free of lunch and flower obligations to anyone but each other, we took to the streets. That day, we noticed for the first time just how many apartment buildings in the East Village have rooftop happenings: little windowed rooms, little gardens, little backyards eighty feet in the air. We also saw several new-to-us instances of our favourite oft-seen graffiti, “WOMP”:
Speaking of graffiti, we passed this installation by Paul Richard:
I get a real kick out of that.
Our first stop was Congee Village, which Kamran has been pestering me about for two years and which I’ve been actively avoiding. The menu is full of things like braised whole sea cucumber, steamed bird’s nest with rock candy, duck’s blood with ginger and scallion, and sun dried dace fish steamed with preserved pig’s belly. You can see why this might have me a little worried, right?
I pictured this creepy old dive serving pork stomach porridge out of its kitchen full of old men in soiled pants, but it was this bright, friendly restaurant with the most delicious little treasures. We had soup dumplings, which look like moneybags that you bite the top off and slurp the soup out of before eating the meat and wrapper. We had shark’s fin soup ($14 a bowl!), which is like eating not-quite-set-up Jell-o with bits of seafood in it (and is actually good, despite the weird texture). We had sea clams with XO sauce, which I have thankfully since forgotten. We had beef congee, which is thick rice porridge that was truthfully mostly flavorless until we dumped a bunch of red pepper flakes into it. And we had fried bread, which is on the dim sum part of the menu but comes with a side of thick icing to dunk it in.
Please ignore my hair here. I hadn’t showered and was full of sea clam.
We continued into Chinatown for Quickly bubble tea (do not get the lemon), gawking at durian hanging out innocently in markets, and buying $22-a-pound beef jerky in flavors like oyster sauce beef and wet spicy pork at New Beef King:
Chinatown was wildly crowded, so we decided to head for the water, which is always so relatively desolate as to seem like the suburbs. We found what we thought was an entirely unnecessary Western wear store but then passed a random horse down a street not three blocks later:
On our way to the Hudson River Park, three little kids suddenly came from behind us on scooters. They made it to the West Side Highway and then turned back around to join their parents. Then they came at us again, this time coming so close to Kam that he accidentally knocked one in the head with his pound of beef. (And I don’t mean that as a euphemism.) I turned around and shot the parents the meanest look to control their kids, but then I realized I was the childish one wearing a t-shirt with a dinosaur vomiting a rainbow on it.
We followed them to Pier 25, where we found a massive playground, a soccer field, and stunning views:
Also trash:
We ran into the Irish Hunger Memorial, an elevated little plot designed to look like the Irish countryside. I guess. I’ve never been to Ireland. And Kam’s never been hungry, as witnessed by his poor attempt at trying to fake it:
We somehow found ourselves walking down an alley and winding through some trees and coming upon these giant rock walls that didn’t seem to serve any purpose but were wildly impressive. And then just behind one of them, we found a secret playground! It was tiny and had exactly one slide and nothing else in it, but still:
Walking back uptown, we found a walkway from Stuyvesant High School across the West Side Highway, allowing for a vantage point we’ve never been able to appreciate before. Highway 9A is a little scary from the ground as a pedestrian in a city otherwise full of one- and two-lane streets, but it seemed like a lazy country road from up above that day:
Meandering from the West Village to the East, we found nonsensical signs and our very favourite NYC tag that would make for the greatest gay gang name of all time (MuffinMilk!):
And then appropriately, we ended the day by finding what may be my calling in life:
6.9 miles!
18 Comments
Are you calling NJ trash? Our friendship is hereby suspended.
No! I was not! The NJ picture was part of the “stunning views” tag. The fact that you assumed the trash was in reference to the NJ makes it seem like maybe you have some Jersey issues of your own, though.
I’ve totally been to the pier in Battery Park City! For real! I suddenly feel cultured.
And that random slide? Well. At least it’s long.
Neat! I thought about you last night when I was watching an episode of “Platinum Hit” where they performed on a street in Santa Monica and was like, “Hey! I’ve totally been there! I’m so cultured!”
What were you doing here? Just visiting or running some sort of crazy marathon?
It was a trip for high school….marching band….don’t judge.
Hey, I’m the LAST one to judge. The first time I came here, it was on a mission trip with my church in college. And I’m an atheist.
Also, I play baritone and trombone. Or did, ten years ago.
I know I’ve told you this before, but I love that you can just go for a stroll and find secret playgrounds and and sort of go to a different country. I was seriously romanticizing your city again until I saw that trash…
Also, I love the barfing dino shirt.
Thanks! One of my cousins in Ohio actually refers to NYC as a different country. Like, “In your country, what do they call . . .” You’re right, though; even the different neighborhoods can seem worlds apart. I really wonder now what it would be like to live in a driving city again; I think I’d miss the walking-and-discovering-things a lot.
Probably not the trash, though. Seriously, they don’t have some sort of crew to clean that up?
-10 point for posting a screenshot of a Google Map instead of embedding it. Otherwise a great post!
I didn’t even notice that option! Way cooler than screenshotting it. Thanks for pointing it out. Meanly.
I don’t always comment on Katie’s blog, but when I do, I do it meanly.
Stay meanly my friends.
I should find a way to incorporate a Like button over here so you don’t have to get my dumb e-mail notification just saying that I really enjoyed this.
That slide is pretty awesome. But I wouldn’t have touched any of that food.
Fried dough with frosting and dumplings?! Those are the greatest things in life!
NJ should be thankful you didn’t put their name on the photo of floating trash (no offense).
I just LOVE these outings! Where I get to come along for the ride, yet experience none of the scooter children & beef swings. B/c frankly I get enough of that at home.
Love the photos Katie. You are such a great storyteller.
This almost makes me wish I lived in a happenin’ place with sights to see. I mean, I suppose Dan and I could go hike a million nature trails every weekend or something, but instead, we just sit on the couch and watch 40 episodes in a row of Monk on Netflix.
Also, the Kamran-hunger picture is my favorite. Especially since I assume that sack he’s holding is full of food.
That playground may only have one slide going for it, but man, that’s a hell of a slide.
Tell me you slid.
Womp, there it is!
(Wow – did I ever date myself on that gem…)
:)