vip in the city, page 36

“Our friends and families may think we’re just a little strange, but Origami Convention ’07 is an incredible opportunity to join hundreds of other people who share our fascination with this gentle art, hundreds of other people who understand without explanation.”

— OrigamiUSA Convention 2007 information page

SYB, card-carrying member of OrigamiUSA, was deeply and happily ensconced in his yearly ritual of folding and socializing at FIT. After my Sunday morning clinic, I decided to take him up on his invitation to check out the exhibition, where origamists (or “folders,” in origami community parlance) from around the world had their works on display for the general public.

At the end of an underground hallway, in an otherwise non-descript room, there were set up tables upon tables of colorful models: impossibly intricate animals, faces, figures, modulars, tessellations… the sheer skill and creativity was astounding. I ran through a pair of AA batteries just trying to digitally capture it all. In keeping with the friendly, inclusive nature of the gathering, the exhibition was open to all who wanted to showcase their work, with no regard for “rankings” or prizes awarded…. just a place for folders to share their designs and mutual love of paper.

The room gradually began to fill with convention attendees – some in colorful, elaborate paper hats, naturally – as the morning classes and seminars broke for lunch. A quirky group, based on my brief interactions with a few of the folders, but perhaps no more eccentric than any group tightly knit around a common, and very specific, interest.

A sampling of exhibit photos. Yami Yamauchi’s “Life is Beautiful” (via SYB), an arrangement of 427 individual models:

Satoshi Kamiya‘s mind-blowing dragon, which according to Wikipedia, is created from a single 20″ sheet of paper folded 275(!) times.

Joel Cooper’s faces:

HOJYO Takashi‘s figures:

Robert Lang’s awesome single-sheet origami flag, which was featured in the New York Times Magazine in April. Lang himself was at the exhibit that morning; apparently he’s something of an origami rock star, if there can be such a thing.

After a stop at Pinkberry-rival Yolato, I headed back home to work on the new flickr pro account, taking advantage of the few hours’ break in today’s schedule to upload my photos from that morning. The response almost immediate: by nighttime, my “Origami Convention 2007” flickr set had logged just over two dozen views; by the following day, a few dozen more. (Contrast this with the audience for some of my other flickr sets, whose views can be counted on one hand.) And then a link to the exhibition set hit the origami mailing lists and a few of the folder bulletin boards. Seemingly overnight, my numbers spiked: hundreds of views a day, new flickr contacts, a few comments, even some complimentary emails and “favorite” photo designations. Naturally, none of this is particularly unusual, but for someone unused to the attention, it was slightly disconcerting. Let’s face it: most of the time, I can’t even be certain my friends and family read this blog. So: flattering, yes, but disconcerting.

Improbably, after just over a year, and hundreds of hours spent crafting near-daily entries for vipnyc.org, I suddenly got noticed for a few random photos on my weeks-old flickr account. I don’t know whether to feel discouraged or validated. Well, that’s the Internet for you. (Isn’t it ironic? Don’tcha think?)

A couple of weeks and 3,000+ views later, the flickr set once again slipped under the radar. So I guess I’m back to toiling away in anonymity again.

I’m not a tremendous fan of the buffet-style eating, though I have been known to frequent my neighborhood all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant – according to the New York Press, “Best Place to Eat Seven Eel Rolls Because You Must.”

That title pretty much sums up my aversion to such places: for too many, the urge to maximize value — to “win,” as it were — compels diners to approach “all you can eat” as a challenge.

Often, AYCE conjures stomach-churning trips to Old Country Buffet – in fact, the chain’s website is www.buffet.com — though in recent years, upscale entrants like the East Buffets and Todai ne Minado have brought at least the quality of buffet selections to a higher level; at peak mealtimes, though, the Flushing crowds continue to barrel their way to the lobster tray with the aggression of soccer hooligans.

After a rather lackluster buffet experience at Mohegan Sun just last weekend, I wasn’t really in the mood for another gorgefest. But when we found ourselves in Long Island this afternoon – a mere six days after Fathers Day – a trip to Harvest Buffet in Great Neck seemed a foregone conclusion.

The quantity and variety of food on display is pretty staggering: standard Chinese, Korean, and Japanese dishes, ranging from typical Americanized fare to jellyfish salad and peking duck – yum! (The banner outside also touts French cuisine; I’m not so sure.  French fries, maybe.)  The constant stream of diners makes for rapid turnover – especially among higher ticket items like the sushi/sashimi and giant Alaska Snow crab legs – ensuring that most of the food is pretty fresh.

The key to a pleasant buffet experience – during and, more importantly, afterwards – is not to eat as if you were competing with your fellow diners: stuffing your face, Joey Chestnut-style. [Prior to this year’s Mustard Belt face-off, this analogy would have read: Takeru Kobayashi-style.] There is a difference, after all, between ”all you can  eat” and ”all you should  eat.”

That difference, however, is usually obliterated by the dessert table, with its limitless supply of soft serve ice creams, cookies and pastries, mango puddings, sweet rice dumplings, tong shui and bubble teas.

Back to Jersey City for a vicarious trip through the Italian countryside, courtesy of M and LW’s vacation slideshow.

But first, a real-life stroll through the picturesque Van Vorst Historial District.

In front of City Hall, a model of Oviedo Cathedral a.k.a. Catedral de San Salvador de Oviedo — a gift from the citizens of Jersey City’s sister city, Oviedo, in northeastern Spain.

The Victorian-era, brownstone-lined Van Vorst Park features formal gardens, a wooden gazebo, an ornate fountain, playgrounds, a sandbox and a dog run – all neatly segmented along paved pathways. On Saturdays through the harvest season (June 16-November 24), the Friends of Van Vorst Park host a farmers market; in the summer, Van Vorst Park has its own bi-weekly outdoor film series, which this year includes movies as varied as Young Frankenstein, Tootsie, and March of the Penguins, but in what feels like a missed opportunity, not the 2006 film of the same name.

I noted quite a few changes in the apartment since I was last there: new furniture, new construction, new art. Our globe-trekking hosts put out a generous spread of homemade dips, artisanal breads and cheeses. (Early that morning, I was treated to a brief lecture at the Fairway fromagerie on the different flavor profiles of aged, hard pecorino — with which I was more familiar — and the soft and mild, young variety.) Don Julio palomas in hand, we gathered around to view all 800+ stunning, iPhone-worthy trip photographs. The travelogue made me long for a vacation in Tuscany — if only I could find a house for rent.

“You know, with all the ugliness in the world, a good noodle shop just seems to be God’s way of saying everything’s gonna be okay.”
– Grace Adler

At Marco Polo Noodle Shop, this dish appears on the menu as “Noodles with Peking Sauce.” I ordered it for the first time on a bit of blind faith, not having a precise idea of what constituted this generically-named sauce. According to The Food Lover’s Companion, peking sauce is synonymous with hoisin sauce — that distinctive sweet, salty, spicy sauce of soybean paste, garlic, vinegar, sugar and chilies, used frequently in Chinese stir-fries, dips and marinades.

This was definitely not that sauce. Marco Polo’s version was tasty, but difficult to describe: a kicky, tangy sauce interspersed with slivers of bamboo shoots and black mushrooms, and diced chunks of pressed tofu. Also, quite popular, based on its appearance on several diners’ tables during this busy lunch hour.

And because we love dumplings:

The return of the birthday bouquet:

The co-workers surprised me this afternoon with a Carvel cake. I probably had one of these to commemorate every birthday until I graduated from high school – and truth be told, even a few more after that – so the sight of that familiar red gel icing spelling out “Happy Birthday Vanessa” really brought me back. Demonstrating the advances cake decoration has made since the 1980s, this one even had edible confetti sprinkled over the top — very festive! Sure, there are better ice cream cakes to be had out there, but on the basis of nostalgia alone, you just can’t beat Carvel. And who doesn’t love those chocolate crunchies?

I slipped out of the office a little early to meet Mom at South Street Seaport. Weeks earlier, I had signed up for a two hour “Sunset Hidden Harbor Tour,” a charity event for the Working Harbor Committee, an organization whose mission is “to strengthen awareness of the working harbor’s history and vitality today, and its opportunities for the future.”

This morning’s downpour made way for perfect sailing weather this evening: mid-70s, clear skies, low humidity. After signing in at the kiosk on Pier 16, we boarded the 143–foot luxury yacht Zephyr for the tour that brought us into the Brooklyn, Staten Island and New Jersey ports and terminals… all the way through the Kill van Kull to the Bayonne Bridge. Along the way, we passed tugboats, container ships and sailboats, the Brooklyn Navy Yard, Red Hook’s new cruise ship terminal (and Fairway Market), Governors Island, and (as required of all New York Harbor cruises): the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.

Captain John Doswell, Executive Director of the Working Harbor Committee, was on board to provide narration for the Zephyr’s 300+ passengers. Doswell, a very active member of the waterfront community, founded the Friends of Hudson River Park, and is part-owner of the retired fireboat John J. Harvey.

About two-thirds of the way through the sunset cruise, I finally figured out how to work the “Color Accent” setting on my Canon PowerShot – just one full year into ownership, heh!

What a beautiful day! Check out the full flickr set here.

Early birthday dinner at – surprise! – Telepan.

I’d been to this restaurant when it first opened last year, and loved its fresh, seasonal ingredient-driven menu by Bill Telepan. (The chef’s Greenmarket approach is furthered in his 2004 book, Inspired by Ingredients.)

Critics have been impressed; so too, the devoted diners who recently named the restaurant “Best Newcomer” in the 2007 Zagat Survey.

We were seated in the pea-green dining room of the converted townhouse, our hearts and stomachs already set upon the restaurant’s much admired four-course tasting menu. SYB opted for the wine pairing as well, and though I was teetotaling tonight, I was glad he splurged; it gave us the opportunity to watch Telepan’s young wine director Aaron von Rock (cool name!) at work. A veteran of Tribeca Grill, Alta and Food & Wine‘s 2001 Best New Wine List winner Bar Demi (which he opened with Verbena chef Diane Forley), von Rock cut quite a character with his foppish facial hair and enthusiastic sommelier banter.

On to the food. The dim lighting proved something of a photography challenge, but trust me, it was all delicious: from the trio of amuse-bouches (almost universally abbreviated to “amuse” among waiters, but thankfully, not ours) to the desserts.

Appetizers: House Smoked Brook Trout with potato-chive blini & sweet onion sour cream…

…and Crispy Blue Prawns with spicy mango, hearts of palm & avocado salad:

Mid Courses (not pictured): Seared Foie Gras Torchon with duck proscuitto, port & sweet onions and Robiola Tortellini with meatballs, swiss chard & parmigiano broth.

Entrées: Dry-Aged Sirloin & Short Ribs with roasted garlic potato cake & creamed spinach custard…

…and Organic Lamb porchetta-style with shell beans, wild spinach & spinach linguini:

Desserts: Carrot Cake Sundae with cream cheese ice cream, carrot salad & candied walnuts…

…and Coconut Rice Pudding with pineapple fritters & basil syrup:

If only every day were my birthday.

One of the 3,300 sleek new stainless steel and tempered glass bus shelters being installed as part of the city’s “Coordinated Street Furniture Franchise” contract with Spanish firm Cemusa (“say-moo-sa”):

According to Mediaweek, under the terms of the 20-year agreement, in addition to designing, building, installing and maintaining the new shelters, Cemusa will provide New York City with $999 million in cash and $398 million worth of worldwide ad space, promoting the city as a tourism destination. In return, the company will keep all of the revenue generated by selling the advertising space on its street furniture.

Also as part of the deal, Cemusa will build and sell advertising for 20 freestanding public toilets and 330 newsstands around the city.

The first new bus shelter was installed in late December on Queens Boulevard at 82nd Avenue, near Queens Borough Hall in Kew Gardens. For more images of the design, check out the Cemusa website (.pdf)

Nice work, Grimshaw! (The firm was also tapped to head up the Fulton Street Transfer Center and the Queens Museum of Art explansion project.) A spiffy addition to the city, and way more practical than IKEA’s efforts for New York Design Week 2006.

Small world: seconds after snapping this photo, I randomly crossed paths with PL (again!), racing up Broadway on a mystery mission in the neighborhood.

Returning to the city from our Fathers Day outing that afternoon, we crossed paths with the Essex Steam Train, with its restored Pullman cars, making its way through the Connecticut River Valley.

Essex, a picturesque town of about 6,500 residents on the banks of the Connecticut River, bills itself as “The Best Small Town in America.” Situated halfway between New York City and Boston, the town actually consists of three villages: Essex, Centerbrook and Ivoryton.

Essex village originated as a prosperous shipbuilding community; the American warship, “Oliver Cromwell” was built here in 1775, the first of over 500 vessels to be built in Essex between the Revolutionary and Civil Wars. In keeping with the nautical tradition, the town also claims the only working, full-scale model of The American Turtle, the first submarine to be used (and lost) in combat, built by Eli David Bushnell in 1776(!)

Exquisitely preserved colonial, Georgian and Victorian houses still line Main Street, among them the space housing the Connecticut River Museum and the Griswold Inn, one of the oldest continuously operated inns in the country. Today, the leafy streets are lined with art galleries, boutiques, and antique shops.

One day, perhaps a RiverQuest Sunset Cruise?

On this brilliantly sunny Sunday, we piled into the car for a road trip to Mohegan Sun in Uncasville, Connecticut.

I remember when going to a casino was an experience punctuated by the cacophany of quarters cascading against steel bins. All that’s changed, though; as of May 1, 2007, all of Mohegan Sun’s 6,000 slot machines became coin-free, joining the ranks of those along the Las Vegas strip and Atlantic City’s boardwalk. Instead of coins or tokens, the casino now employs so-called “Ticket In/Ticket Out” (TITO) technology; payouts are made via bar-code printed vouchers, which can be inserted and scanned into any machine for gaming credits (just like paper currency), or redeemed for cash at redemption kiosks or cashier booths.

The shift to electronic ticketing allowed Mohegan Sun to trim 20% of its attendant and cashier staff and to clear up valuable floor space previously occupied by the bulky coin-redemption booths. In their place, the casino plans to set up new lounges designed by the ubiquitous Rockwell Group.

Certainly, it’s a quicker and more convenient system for the players, who no longer have to bother with heavy, dirty coins, or to wait for slot machines to be refilled or emptied. I have to believe, though, that visitors tend to gamble more money this way: once the bill ($10 minimum here, as we discovered) gets sucked out of sight, it’s very easy to forget you’re playing with real money. And players are far more likely to gamble away any remaining credits than to bother redeeming their tickets for a few dollars. Not to mention that the tickets, which are as good as cash inside the casino, can be lost or simply forgotten and unredeemed.

For those who feel nostalgic for the festive clink-clink-clinking, I was amused to note that Mohegan Sun’s slot machines will simulate the telltale payout sounds when printing the electronic tickets. I still miss those logo-emblazoned plastic buckets, grubby as they were, in which in visits past, I used to haul home weeks and weeks worth of laundry money.

Queens to Manhattan:

Manhattan to Brooklyn…

It was the night of MC’s 30th birthday festivities, so I headed into Williamsburg for the second time in a month. The original plan was to meet SYB at the L transfer point for pre-party cubanos and batidas. Sucelt Coffee Shop, the hole-in-the-wall at 14th Street and Seventh Avenue, is revered for some of “The Best Winter Food in New York,” but this was summer (or close enough) and by the time we emerged from the subway station, the shop was closed. We couldn’t think of a fast and decent alternative nearby, so instead pressed onward into Brooklyn, hoping to grab something to eat there before the main event.

After trudging several fruitless blocks along Bedford, we ended up at Vinnie’s Pizza di Teggino, which we learned later that night was under new ownership, with some new menu items added to cater to the neighborhood clientele.

I wasn’t too hungry, so SYB ordered a couple of specialty slices for himself and an Italian ice for me, reminding me that ’tis the season for the Lemon Ice King of Corona. (Soon, soon.)

He was about halfway through his second slice when I noticed one of the young owners cautiously approaching our table. “Hey, guys…? Uh, I don’t know if anyone told you… and if they didn’t, they really should have…”

We had no idea where this revelation was going, but it was not a comforting start. Fearing the worst, we put down our food.

“…but uh… well, that’s vegan  pizza you’re eating.”

Oh. (…and whew!) Strangely, the guy seemed to be anticipating some kind of freak-out reaction to the news — maybe a dramatic spit take, a throwing back of chairs and wild shouts of “Soy?! We can’t eat no %$#@ soy!” — but we assured him that all was well. Certainly the reverse situation could be upsetting (i.e., serving sausage pizza to a vegan), but although we love it, meat isn’t actually required eating at our every meal, so we weren’t all that upset. Or rather: at all. I was more surprised that SYB hadn’t clued in to the faux-cheese/faux-meat before that point, so it must have been pretty good pizza, even without all the artery-clogging animal products.

On to the Soft Spot and its pretty back garden, where I kicked back with a (Coors) Blue Moon, sans orange wedge this time, compliments of the birthday girl. There were mylar balloons and pastel-iced cupcakes, and later still, some “Fake Plastic Trees.” The halfie photo book I brought in for JL turned out to be a successful conversation piece in this target-rich environment, though I ended up cutting out of the festivities before I could deliver it to her in person… just in time to catch the L back to Manhattan.