NY 11 Day 3 – Burgers and Bargains

Remember that one of our rules was to eat. Well, by the time we got to the Burger Joint, it was 3:30 and we were starving. Now, in NYC, a good food place can be on a rooftop, in a sliver of a building, hiding in a bodega, or lurking in a basement.

Our destination was the latter. Jackson Hole. Black iron railings led down wide, stone steps. A balcony above the entrance had cacti in round wooden crates. A metallic cowboy sign loomed over the doorway.

Perfect. If anyone knows their beef, it’s cowboys.

Inside, it was small and cramped with walls of dark wood that made it look like an old pub in England. It smelled of beer, grilled meat and oldness, again, like an old, English Pub. It wasn’t well-lit, and I doubt we would have even gone inside if we were on our own.

But we were given nice, wooden seats together at a nice wooden table. I half expected wooden spoons and an old-fashioned dagger to eat with, but we were given regular cutlery and tons of napkins.

Despite the décor inside, the food was fantastic and we ate a lot. We didn’t eat a lot on purpose, but this was one of those places that when you order a burger, you get a giant burger with all the fixin’s that’s so big, it’s hard to fit in your mouth. Even the Mac&Cheese with beef was large enough to feed Andre the Giant after a week of fasting.

Man, it was good.

But the real treat was spending more time with my cousin, talking with her about her mom, my mom, and the large family that we used to have back in Victoria. The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World also has a large family, but they still get together (though less often now that her Baba has passed). I lost that when my own version of a Baba, my Great Grandma Mac, passed and no one picked up the mantle of regular family dinners.

Sadly, it wasn’t until my later years that I realized what a loss that was. As a teenager, I didn’t really care if we didn’t go to the dinners since someone would pinch my cheeks or tell me that I’d grown a lot since they last saw me. As a young adult, I was just too busy trying to build a life. Too late did I understand how wonderful those dinners had been so long ago.

That was one of the reasons I was so keen to go to NY – to rekindle the connection with family.

We had the best talks.

Then it was off on another quest. There was a street market set up on a street somewhere. 6^th Avenue? Again, we could have subway’d it there, but no, we had our second wind and marched there.

We saw Park Avenue, the fancy shops on 5^th Avenue, more pizza places than I could count, and plenty of street vendors who packed up when the police appeared (though who would buy a watch or Gucci bag from someone displaying their wares on a blanket on the sidewalk, I don’t know?)

It was a good walk, but oh man, by the time we reached the market, we were dragging our sorry butts around like pack mules in the desert carrying fat tourists.

Sadly, it wasn’t a real street market though it was, in fact, on a street. It didn’t have a lot of those cool local merchants that are selling jewelry made from coke rings or crazy vintners with homemade nettle wine or craftsmen with stacks of bird houses. Instead, it was more institutional and franchised.

The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World, being a smartie, bought a fan to fight the heat. She looked at nearly every stall, while the boys reached a point where they would have paid us to take them back to the apartment. Even The-Youngest, a dedicated shopper himself, ran out of desire to look in tents for hippy clothes.

However, before we went home, we decided to hit a souvenir shop. You know the type, NYC T-shirts, snow globes with the Statue of Liberty inside, shot glasses with the Empire State Building, baseball caps with the Mets, Yankees or Rangers.

Most of us tourists bought something. I got a secret present for The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World, The-Oldest got a present for his girlfriend. The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World got a bag full of goodies for her friends. The-Youngest touched everything in the store but I don’t think he got anything.

We thanked our wonderful host for the tour and went back home, showered, ate some more pizza and went to bed.

It never rained.

Luckily, tomorrow would be a simple day.

Or would it?