Just when the sine wave of my relationship with this city starts to dip into a trough (it’s been a long time coming, I have to say — 2007 has been a good year in so many ways), I’m buoyed again: by the eye-opening, cheek-pinking chill in the air (Fall has always been my favorite); by good music seen from the right vantage point; by a Greenmarket morning overrun with the city’s schoolchildren (and a happy encounter with my ebullient friend MHT at the Wheelhouse stand); and by two NYC-centric books, The Bronx Is Burning and The Contract with God Trilogy (the former, according to the subtitle, is about “1977, baseball, politics, and the battle for the soul of a city,” while the latter is about a Bronx tenement neighborhood during the Depression) which remind me that, all else aside, what New York is really about is change. Which is really why I ever came here in the first place.
(Also buoying: last night, I had one of the best white wines I’ve ever had the good fortune to put in my mouth: Trebbiano d’Abruzzo by Valentini, vintage unknown. It wrapped itself around my tongue and both amplified and smoothed over the spicy raucous flavors of everything I ate at Momofuku Ssam. I could still taste it when I descended the subway stairs, 15 minutes and six blocks later.)