Park Central Hotel on 7th, Babe Mecca
Along 7th Ave, endless windowshop wit and elegance
Coming into town in a cab I saw a young guy with a sweatshirt saying “Lloyd 85” — cabbie last night was Khan Shaheen.
Here’s the village aspect of NYC at work: I asked Cynthia, the bartender at Trattoria Dell’Arte, last night about other good restaurants. She seemed stumped for a minute. The guy next to me, who looked like a retired doctor, was a native. He and his wife were excvited to pass along these tips:
•Beyoglu, Turkish, at 81st and 3rd. They said extraordinary…
•Jack, French food, a real bistro. 11th and University Place
•Best Chinese: Tse Yang, 51st. Peking duck
•Balthazar, a “real Parisienne bistro,” for breakfast. Spring Street.
Then the couple sitting farther down the bar said, “And you ought to try…” In my recent travels I’ve learned to ask, ask, ask where is a good place to eat. Out in the middle of small towns or unknown territory I ask where the best hamburger is. In a good restaurant such as this one, I ask about like-quality places.
Well, off to the book convention and further adventures right now. A California yokel loving the cross-cultural, cross-coastal stimulation.
