my valentine's day was spent loving myself, i guess. no, not THAT way. get your head out of the gutter. brunch at joseph leonard made me miss working in restaurants. there's something about the pace and energy in a well-run place. the owner handed a hostess $20 to run out and get more croissants. they were slammed sunday morning. were almost going through bloody mary mix faster than they could make it. from the west village i strolled to soho, sans ipod, and fell in love with the city all over again. you forget how much you lose by tuning out of the city's sounds and into your playlist. the artist talking about his inspiration to some passersby on west broadway. the bebop group on prince street across from j.crew. my favorite singapore importer has gorgeous cream frocks that i'll try to buy on sale. intermix, who no longer has the gorgeous suede brian atwood pumps now has sergio rossi peeptoe platform pumps but you'd be better off with the original YSL incarnation which would be 100% more comfortable and 60% more timeless. ginger citrus tea at balthazar. little pink hearts painted on the sidewalk on both sides of broadway between prince and spring, a small reminder that it was, indeed, valentine's day. decided to satisfy the craving for linguine with clams at esca, which boasts the most convivial bar in town. i've written about it before but things haven't changed an ounce. i was sat next to a longtime regular and friend of the chef. another regular, a 24 year old actress on the other side of him. they immediately started offering tastes of their food even though they didn't yet know my name. we were poured tastes of barolo as we chatted with the chef about where the best bbq in the city was (his answers were all places in kentucky and texas and states NOT new york). the florist came by and soon he was finishing off my pasta and trying my neighbors bay scallops. he returned with flowers (bunches of gorgeous calla lilies) for me and the actress. he does flowers at del posto too, so i had start raving about their lunch. the chef found out i was going to vancouver and gave me the name of someone to call to set me up at restaurants out there. she owns a fantastic cookbook store and knows EVERYONE in food worth knowing. and i have her number on speed dial. moscato d'asti was poured, an affogato ordered and hugs exchanged with friends new (me) and old, as we all departed.
i heart new york.