One Belongs to New York Instantly

Almost Famous

I’ve been listening to an English guy’s covers on You Tube since last winter. I had the privilege of sharing his talents with some friends, especially this summer when I went to Paris and London. All the ladies loved Conor Maynard’s (English guy in question) music and before I knew it I was back on American soil and in Conor’s arms. Well, it didn’t exactly work like that, but you get the idea.

(He’s holding his autograph, upon which I’d written a hello for my friend Meg, who is also a fan). That’s the great thing about New York. One minute you’re sitting around after your run, and the next you’re on your way to meet a singer you first saw singing covers in his bedroom. And a mere 20 blocks from your apartment. He was very sweet, and very down to Earth, and if you’ve ever watched an interview—he really does laugh like that. 

Want to learn more about Conor? There’s still too many people who aren’t familiar! Your best bet? Head to You Tube and listen to his cover of “Marvin’s Room” by Drake and then “Better than You” ft. Rita Ora from his new album #Contrast

@conormanyard #mayniacs 

In Another Country

I have never been a religious person and I never will be. It’s not always easy either. Many times I have wished, and sometimes still do that my parents had raised me with some type of moral compass that pointed in the God direction. They didn’t. 

I consider myself spiritual, but I do not believe in a religious figure that is concerned with human problems. People kill each other because they are crazy. You missed the train because it took you thirty more seconds than usual to leave your apartment this morning. He or she doesn’t love you because of something within them. God does not affect those things because those are human things. 

Nine years ago yesterday when my Mom died, I would try and force myself to feel her. Like they do in movies, on breezes, or the beach or looking over a balcony with hair in your face. And I couldn’t. As I crossed Cumberland Ave. in West Lafayette, Indiana, I realized I had knowndeep within myself for a long time,  that when you die, you die. You cease to exist likethe way you did before you were born. Walking down the street I knew that’s what I would always believe. But I wished it weren’t true. And based on history and civilization, that’s what humanity hopes isn’t true either. 

It took me until I was in my twenties to find a place where I felt spiritual in the way I’d hoped to so many years ago. It’s in bookstores. Towards the end of my time at Ball State, I began to spend grocery money at Books A Million at the mall. Matt would call me to see where I was and I’d be at the book store. There’s a Barnes and Noble at 86th St. where I sacrifice my groceries now. I’m there so often I realized yesterday that they might recognize me if it weren’t for my constant hair dye jobs. In bookstores everything gets quiet. I pull things off the shelf. I say the alphabet in my head trying to find an author’s last name. I crouch down Indian-style on the floor to read something and forget I’m in the middle of the aisle. I go through an entire essay book by Hemingway searching for one line. “In the fall the war was always there, but we did not go to it any more.” I’d first read it when I was 15 in Mrs. Roadruck’s class, and I remember looking around the room at my classmates. Had everyone else just heard what I did? A first line like that? A single sentence that could evoke feelings so quickly? I imagine the way I felt at Shakespeare and Co. in Paris, upstairs walking amongst the wooden shelves that Fitzgerald and Joyce were near, is the way religious people feel when they pray. So I guess, as I write this, my parents did instill in me religion. My dad reading to me as a baby in his lap, poetry, and J. Alfred Prufrock before I was able to understand life in coffee spoons. When I would beg my mom to read the chapter where Charlotte dies again, just one more time, and she did. 

This ninth year was harder than they have been in the past. I was tired in the afternoon and I laid down in my bed with the sunshine coming in the window. At 6:15 I went to dinner with Alison to celebrate my new job, a year at hers, a drink for my Mom, for Champ our imaginary bulldog. We sat outside at Cafeteria and drank cold glasses of Riesling and it was a good day again.

5 Things We Loved at Fashion’s Night Out (Sept. 6, 2012)

Fashion’s Night Out is one of the best reasons to live in New York. Designers, stores and neighborhoods team together to celebrate everything that is fashion. From goody bags to great deals, to celebrity appearances and DJs in every store front, there’s plenty to love no matter what your style. Here’s some of the things we loved….

These glasses at Oliver Peoples.

Books as decor in Mulberry

The live bondage happening in the windows at Kiki de Montparnasse

Jason holding my favorite shoe at Kate Spade SOHO.

Conversational prints from Penguin’s Fall 2012 women’s line. Alison is wearing the floral conversation tie blouse, and I am wearing the b&w polka dot conversation shift dress. Alison’s red coat was her big fall splurge, with a slight peplum on the bottom and big gold buttons, it’s a conversation starter for sure.

What were your favorite moment’s from FNO? We’d love to hear them! newYorkInstant@gmail.com

Lastly, a FNO moment I’m sorry I missed:

Shameless Plug

So I’ve really needed my hair done. When I say really, I think you underestimated how dry, grown out, and tri (tri as in three) tonal it was. I got my first dark to light ombre in January and loved it, but it was in some dire need of an update. Thanks to Yukari at Dlala (Dah-lah) salon in Alphabet City, I am back to my regular, experimental self. I’ve had every color of the rainbow, but I’ve never had my hair colored quite like Yukari did it. She mixed all of my color by hand, creating color that didn’t come in a tube, and then hand painted (yes, HAND. PAINTED.) my entire head. She did not use the typical ombre technique of teasing the hair and dying over it, since while this works, it can damage the hair follicle. Yukari gave me a twenty minute consultation, went over color books with me, showed me how the cut would look prior to starting and then let me know every step of the way what she was doing. She gave me tips to maintain and moisturize in between visits, and put my hair through a conditioning treatment. Many of the products used at Dlala are Japanese, including the ear protectors (little shower caps made specifically to go over your ears, since any woman that colors knows dye loves to end up there). The salon is busy, bright and they do quality work! It was worth every penny, and the afternoon I spent at the salon being treated. Not to mention the massage after the cut and color was over. If you’re looking for a quality color job, head to Yukari at Dlala, you won’t be disappointed!

A Head Start and a Domestic Partnership

In case anyone was wondering, the fastest way to feel as though you and your same sex roommate are in a domestic partnership is to fill out a questionnaire about your lifestyle. As I was doing so last night, (for a number of various reasons), I realized the following: that Alison and I do indulge in an active weekend lifestyle, enjoy documentary television during the week (getting the lez vibe yet?) and have finally established a life here. Sure, it took a little over a year, but we have some roots down, and I can finally say here, are both gainfully employed.

Now that things have become official, I am happy to announce that I have found my first social work position and I am very excited to start! I have accepted an offer from the Children’s Aid Society, working in their early childhood/Head Start program. I will be enrolling families, performing intakes and home visits, offering individual counseling to families and parents as necessary, as well as supervising the small team of family workers at our agency. Head Start in NY state is moving towards a family immersed program, where the center is no longer on the child alone, but the entire family including parents and siblings. Parents are required to volunteer at our site, as well as attend workshops (which myself and the family workers put on), and engage readily with their children in order to receive the child care services. I am excited to be a part of these state-wide changes, and am one of the first Master’s social workers to be hired in the new supervisory role Children’s Aid has created (those of us hired are so new, that I am not even sure of what my formal title is!)

The commute to work will be somewhat lengthy, (although free, easy, and primo reading time) but there were too many positives for me to pay much attention to travel time. I have the honor of being included in the ground breaking changes happening with a national agency, and something that my mom was involved with too. In my initial interview, I was asked if I was familiar with Head Start, and I had to say yes. My mom spent many years advocating and researching for Head Start and child care programs around the country, and towards the end of her life, the Midwest. My first experience with low income families was sitting in the back seat of my mom’s Malibu (where I could spread out and sleep) and driving into the south side Chicago projects where children hung from fencing on the twentieth stories of their buildings. I’d never seen a world like that, and my mom ventured in bravely (and somewhat directionally challenged) to provide better child care for working mothers in these areas. To entice families to participate in her studies, my mom offered food and free child care (usually myself and a grad student.) I can still remember chasing a little boy with a caramel colored afro through a public library and into the elevator while he screamed. It’s a happy coincidence that I will be able to continue the legacy that my mom and her colleagues helped to create. 

Hopefully I won’t have to run into any elevators with an afro.

Things You Only Learn in the City and From Reading Blogs

Maybe it’s watching all the new students at NYU that has me nostalgic, but I realized there’s a few things I’ve learned here in the ole city. This time last year I was a ball of nerves, preparing to enter into my year long grad program. Now that I have my Master’s there’s a possibility I’m smarter in two ways: professionally and this way-

Things That You Only Learn from Living in the City (And Because You Read This)

• Subway seats are from the outside. If the bench is mostly empty, or there are a couple people sitting, you choose the seat next to either side railing or the pole in the middle. But never just the middle-even if it means putting space between you and another person. It makes it easier for everyone to fit if you just sit from the outside
• Those “grip slips” on the side walk corners are the enemy (and oxymoron) of high heels. Walk around them.
• The first two Metro Card scanners to the left or right of a row are almost always over used. New Yorkers hate cramming into middle spaces (see above). For that reason those scanners will usually say one thing: “Please Swipe Again.” Avoid.
• If the numerical light on a taxi is not on, THE TAXI IS NOT AVAILABLE. You’d think this is obvious, but I consistently watch tourists none the wiser yell down the street, “C’mon! What the hell?” as the cab drives past. But on the weekends, taxi drivers are more selective of who they pick up. The wobbly, falling down, slightly green customers are less desirable candidates for a Puke Free cab ride, and therefore, if you are trying to get a ride home late at night from the spot, feel free to stick your hand out for any cabs driving by. As long as you look sober, you might get lucky.
• If you stick a body part in closing subway doors, they will reopen. This is how most people stop doors from closing in order to avoid missing the train. But I said body parts, EX: arms, legs, feet, heads. I did not say purses, clothing items or sunglasses. The train will rip your dress off. Or, as I observed an Asian woman learning, leave the station with the paper documents she stuck between the closing doors securely between them while she remained on the platform. Hope it wasn’t her Last Will and Testament. 
• Whistling doesn’t help you hail a cab. Only people in movies do that. Or people who get told to “fuck off” by nearby patrons on the street.
• You can’t split a check in New York. What I mean is, they’re not going to charge you for just what you ordered. I don’t know why, but no restaurants do it. They can literally split the check, and in as many ways as you want. Yes, I understand that this is probably just as hard as charging us all what we ordered. But it ain’t guna happen. And being the person who insists on paying for only what they ordered is really dragging down the whole social experience. Split it, let someone by you a drink and give it a few months. You’ll get used to it.
• You can’t find a job here in a couple weeks. This is Manhattan, not the Rest of the World Minus California.
• The nicer the weather, the worst the tourist trap. I reminded myself of this the hard way on a recent shopping trip to SOHO. The sky was blue, the sun was peeking behind clouds, and I was barking at the ninth tourist in my path to EXCUSE ME. (Later I did feel bad.) It’s better to pick off times to go these areas, say before noon or after five. Tourists suck, but let’s not get crazy here, shopping in the rain sucks.
• If I were a man standing at the MITS (public bus) station in Muncie, Indiana and I saw a man and a woman screaming at each other, and feared it might turn violent I might intervene. Alas I am a woman, a woman who sadly sees this all too often in NY. Fights escalating to scary levels, weird shit at the train station. The other sad thing is this is NY. Involving yourself in a situation in the city allows for even more unknowns. Not that crazy stuff doesn’t happen in IN, but there’s just a difference. Best thing to do is stay out of it, or alert the authorities if you feel it is necessary. Every where else, saving someone gets you a medal. In NY, it gets me and the rest of the train passengers looking at you like you’re crazy (and definitely NOT sticking a body part in the train doors to wait for you.)
• Puddles of water that are next to buildings, poles, tree fences (like the ones on the UES) or are trickling away from a building/or a corner are pee. Water droplets falling on top of you (even during a clear day) are sweating AC units. Puddles in the middle of the sidewalk aren’t pee, but probably a discarded drink or construction run off. The murky puddles off of curbs the day after it’s rained? Toxic sludge. Better to walk in the pee.
• If the traffic signal says don’t walk, look to see if there are cars coming, if there aren’t: walk. If there are, but they are in the distance: walk. If the care is close, but has it’s blinker on (not coming down the street you want to cross): walk. The cars are bumper to bumper despite the green light and won’t move in the thirty seconds it takes you to cross the street: walk. The light is turning yellow and the cabs are starting to stop: walk. Leaving the Park at 5th Avenue on the UES: walk (it takes cars an unnatural amount of time to reach lights here for some reason). A driver motions for you to cross the street: walk. If the traffic signal is blinking: walk. If the traffic signal was blinking but just stopped, check the light, if it isn’t red: walk. If the traffic signal says walk: walk.
• You will start to recognize the homeless residents, train beggars and weirdos in your neighborhood. They will become endearing to you. You will never give them money.
• Remember when you didn’t live in Manhattan and your front door automatically came with a lock? Locks aren’t garuanteed. You might get one in the door handle, but any criminal looking to steal our 8-in TV or sexually exploit us is kicking that baby in in a jiff. Here in NYC, one must spend hundreds of dollars on a secure lock for the front door, and then find a place to put it, since all the stripped locks of former tenants are attached to your door. Out of door space? TIme to sell all your valuables. And remind yourself that Manhattan has truly found a way to make money from absolutely everything.
• If the building is just so-so, it is likely that the doorman doesn’t care who you’re here to “visit.” So proceed on to your booty call with the vomit in your hair and the scuff marks on your knees, the doorman is taking pity on you. If the building is very nice, the doorman cares. Excuse me, ma’m, who are you here to see? I’ll call up.
• Walking through the Park at night is asking for rapists and pick pockets to come and claim you. But walking through the West/East cross town road is safe. The sidewalks are too narrow and full of puddles for any criminal to get any true work done there. 
• The delivery men on bicycles do not have to stop when cars do. If you’re using the walking tips above, beware of delivery bikes.
• Yes it’s just as much fun living in Manhattan as you think it would be. Yes it’s just as much a pain in the ass living in Manhattan as you think it would be. Yes there’s more stuff to do/eat/see/experience here than almost anywhere else so yes I think I have it better than you do.

If there are NY things I have not listed here, it is because I have yet to learn them, or forgot. Feel no shame in reminding me, at NewYorkInstant@gmail.com

That photo is Central Park in June, taken by muah. Share with credit!

Turkey Meatballs for Poor People

It’s been awhile since we’ve uploaded a recipe to the blog. Thought we’d hit you with two of our favorites, one new (this one) and an old favorite (to be posted soon!) We always substitute ground turkey for hamburger around here, it’s leaner and has (what I think) is a more complex flavor. And that annoying/gross grease that you have to deal with when you’re cooking with ground beef? Say sigh-oh-nara! (I could Google the correct spelling of that, but I am too excited to share this with you.)

I had a big craving for spaghetti and meatballs, and decided to whip up something with what we had in the house. These are seriously the easiest meatballs that you will probably ever make, and they have great flavor! These are slightly spicy (we’ll show you how to remedy that if that’s not your thing), the turkey tastes a little bit like sausage, and because they’re lean ground meat and baked, they’re much lower in fat than your traditional counterparts, but trust us—you won’t notice that in the flavor!

What you’ll need:

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp celery salt (if you don’t have this, make it 1/4 tsp of salt)

1/4 tsp pepper

1/4 tsp red pepper chili flakes (Eliminate this if you don’t want a little heat!)

(1/4 tsp of Oregano would also be great, we just didn’t have any on hand. They’ll still taste great without, but if you have some, throw it in!)

4 tbsp of All Whites egg whites (in the carton) (If you don’t have this, one egg)

1/4 cup Italian breadcrumbs

1 clove minced garlic

ground lean turkey

baking sheet/non-stick spray/mixing bowl/whisk (or a fork)

Directions:

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and spray your baking sheet with non-stick spray, set aside. If you’re making pasta, now is a good time to salt your pasta water and set on medium heat to boil 

2. Mix your dry ingredients together in a bowl and whisk together

3. Add egg to dry ingredients, but DON’T mix it up!

4. Add turkey. I used about 3/4 of a half pound package

5. Mush it around with your hands, making sure to not leave any of the dry ingredients sticking to the bowl

6. Roll the turkey mixture into balls and align on a baking sheet like such…

If you’re making the meatballs ahead of time, and aren’t ready to cook them, they’ll be good like this in the fridge for a few hours. Otherwise-

7. Put the meatballs in the oven for approximately 22 minutes (a little less, a little more won’t hurt them.) In fact, Alison was running late on her way home from work today and I left them to warm at 200 degrees in the oven and they were still A-Okay

8. Don’t forget to throw in your pasta! If you want to coordinate cooking times, add the pasta to the water after ten minutes of meatball cooking time. If you’re in 5A, you’re eating whole wheat pasta. Don’t listen to anyone who says this stuff doesn’t cook the same as regular, it does. And the taste is a little nuttier, and it’s a WHOLE lot better for you! As you can see from the picture, I used a canned sauce (for you NY-ers, Renaldi, 1.99 at most Gristedes) and dressed it up with my favorite additions: Red chili flakes, pepper and a tbs. and half of Chavrie goat cheese, whisked in. We always have goat cheese in the house and I love it to dress up a store bought sauce. You can start to warm the sauce around the same time you put the pasta in the water.

9. After twenty-two minutes, tending to your sauce and draining your pasta, pull out those meatballs and use a knife to check for doneness. Juices should run clear and there should be no pink in the middle! They will be lighter in color than hamburger meatballs, see below.

(Yea that’s a pot top that doesn’t fit, such is the NY life.)

10. Put all the stuff together and leave the clean up for someone else!

***Substitute the pasta for toothpicks, and you’ve got a great appetizer for a party (use the sauce as a dipping sauce! And perhaps adjust the size of the meatballs. If you make them smaller than seen here, make sure and check them at 15 mins so you don’t make hockey pucks!)

We’ll have another poor person recipe up soon! Did you try this and like it? How did your meatballs turn out? NewYorkInstant@gmail.com

Mrs. Kontos-Robert’s Neighborhood