The East Village is, was and always will be my hood in the big apple. Sure, I now stay on the Upper West Side and much to the dismay of my husband, I gravitate downtown. He will often say “downtown again?” My friend Peggy always lived on the Lower East Side and she was my friend-to-stay-with in New York. It was really seedy and exciting then, the 70’s. It’s been totally gentri-yuppie-fied in recent years. The Hells Angels owned the block – or maybe even blocks – around where Peg lived. And each day as I ventured out, one or another of them would ask me to fetch him something like matches perhaps from the corner store. So I did. Who wouldn’t? It was always more of a command – and I was to obey.
One hot summer night when Peggy and I were feeling playful and fearless, I actually hopped on the back of Mike the Bike’s Harley for a quick spin around Alphabet City. She was on the bike of another Hells Angel whose name I cannot recall; I only remember his toothless grin and his notoriety from the Altamont infamy of some years earlier. I am not the biggest adventurer – in fact, I’m not adventurous at all.

The Big Dog and I lunched this afternoon at
We’d finally made it all the way to Park Slope, it was less than warm,
and I’m pretty sure I had mascara on my forehead from frantically
trying to fix my make-up on the subway. You can imagine my dismay when
the only boy I really wanted to see on my trip to New York wasn’t even
home. But we couldn’t just call him! It would be much better if we
‘just happened to be in the neighborhood’. “They can’t be far. Their
car is here!” But how were we gonna kill an hour in the middle of
residential nowhere in 20 degree weather? That’s when we found it.
BAR TANO. A little haven of happiness with pressed tin walls and a
zinc bar.
Call out the riot squad! Barricade the streets! Lock up your daughters! The Three Fat Unemployed Actors’ Lunch Club is on the loose again — this time in the far reaches of Queens at the wonderful
The word on the street is that Mario Batali has been losing sleep. He’s been seen pacing up and down in front of his various restaurants, wringing his hands and sighing – all because he heard I’ve been visiting Eataly, the Batali/ Bastianich Italian food extravaganza on 23rd St. and Fifth Avenue, and that I’m finally ready to weigh in with my considered opinion.