Secret escapes new york jets,secret garden book owl,secret love korean movie car - Step 1

29.04.2016
Our ‘my city’ series puts a new perspective on some of our favourite places, as we catch up with creative residents, asking them to divulge their best kept secrets.
For the Big Apple, we consult none other than Secret Escapes’ US Editor and New York resident, Gina Volpe. I stand by my claim that coffee you’ll get from the street coffee carts, scattered about three deep on pretty much every block on weekday mornings, selling cups for $1, is the all-time best. When I first moved to the city, my then-boyfriend, who had lived here for years, had never been to Trinity Church Cemetery.
If a friend’s visiting, which is your go-to restaurant to show them a decent New York dinner? For burgers, JG Melon or, if I’m feeling strong and able to handle the scene, Minetta Tavern for the famous Black Label Burger; this buttery goddess is worth all of its $28 dollars (and the undignified jostling while you wait in the jammed bar area).
True Coal Yard story: I was once there on a Saturday night, chatting with a guy at the bar who was named Chris but went by Tornado.
The Market NYC on Bleecker Street is also pretty cool and great for finding weird stuff to decorate your apartment with.
Times Square is a god damn nightmare and best completely avoided, even if you’ve never seen it before. Everyone says Brooklyn (Bushwick, East Williamsburg, Park Slope – take your pick) since it’s, like, $1 cheaper than Manhattan rent and full of young people and the type of small ma-and-pa places people can feel good about visiting, but I must say, I don’t really get the appeal.
London, since I have a built-in group of people who would be obligated to be friends with (or at least nice to) me, in the form of my lovely Secret Escapes co-workers. This is embarrassing to admit, but I’ve never spent any good amount of time in Astoria. My wife and I are visiting New York for the first time in September from British Columbia, Canada.


Some of the wee sketches she has a wedding ring on, sometimes she doesn't and other times there is a voice calling her darling, but no wedding ring. From their favourite galleries, to their go-to coffee spot, there are plenty of hints and tips on how to stay like a local.
When you order with cream, the coffee is so thick and malty that it’s basically a milkshake.
We both love old, creepy things, so I convinced him the churchyard, with gravestones dating back to the 1600s, was right up his alley. Not to be deterred, we shimmied up the locked, wrought-iron spike fence and hopped over, in broad daylight and full view of tourists snapping photos. Frankies 570 Spuntino is probably my go-to; I’ve gotten many a friend hooked on the cavatelli with spicy sausage and browned sage butter. If you like cheap drinks, a solid juke box selection, a dog-friendly backyard patio area, a delightful assortment of weird locals (when there’s anyone in there at all) and an everything-goes type of vibe, this is the place to go to escape the East Village bustle and knock back a vodka soda or four.
While he was talking, a small white object fell out of his mouth onto the floor, and he just kept talking, unphased. But then again, I live on the Upper East Side, which is basically grandma-ville, so don’t listen to me. Okay: wake up, head straight downtown to Locanda Verde with my husband for a gut-busting brunch and a martini or two, hopefully spot a celebrity or two (Judge Judy is at the top of my wishlist), meet up with friends in Central Park for a leisurely picnic (presumably someone else will have stopped by the liquor store and Citarella for the wine and bread and jams and cured meats), meander home to 94th Street for a nap, wake back up and get all fresh, venture back out for a pasta dinner and the mind-blowing bomboloni at Ristorante Morini on Madison and 86th, head home to watch DVR-ed Dateline episodes and then go to bed before 11.
It’s only about a two-hour drive from the city, and it’s exactly as weird as you’d expect it to be. Nowhere else feels like New York, so the minute you step off the plane and there’s a crabby TSA agent yelling at you, it’s like, “Ahhh, I’ve missed you.” Then I get into a cab, immediately get car sick, and need a vacation again.
You’re already guaranteed to experience way more local authenticity than you would in Times Square.


Is she playing different parts or is she just a filthy wee bitch who puts it about all over the shop, slipping the wedding ring off when it suits her? We did our sightseeing, and all went well until the hop back over, during which one of the spikes stabbed my guy right directly in the butt-cheek – I’m talking pierced skin, the works. I thought it was a tooth and asked something like, “Did your tooth just fall out?” Turns out nope, it was only his gum.
Nothing but slow-moving hoards of tourists, crappy chain restaurants, spooky people in Elmo suits and other terrifying character costumes… ugh, it is the bane of my existence. In my book, anything that cuts down on the need to flag strangers down with embarrassing requests to snap a photo is a plus for humanity.
My husband and I rented a house there with a friend this past fall and winter, and it was the perfect place to hole up and get cozy and not be sad about how cold it was. Harlem isn’t my typical stomping grounds, but I can wholeheartedly recommend paying a visit to Red Rooster on Malcolm X Boulevard between 125th and 126th.
The Catskills scenery is beautiful, the main street packed with cute shops and eateries is perfect for bopping around, and the hippie-dippie vibe everywhere makes it so fun.
This is Marcus Samuelsson’s spot serving up some seriously delicious American comfort food.




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