NYC

BECCO~ This is the name of an amazing restaurant on 46th street between 8th and 9th Avenues in NYC. If you are in the area...just go!
A fixed menu takes the stress away from big decisions required in ordering meals on big nights out. Spring for an extra and request calamari as a starter. They know how to prepare squid (and the lemon is cleverly wrapped magazine picture-perfect in yellow cheesecloth with a green tie! So Martha Stewart!)
When that has been devoured, an antipasta dish comes out with kingfish, octopus and potatoes in vinegar and buffalo mozzarella cheese.
Then the salad comes...crispy with that hint of dirt flavor I like. (I'm not being sarcastic here, I like to taste earth when I eat greens)
Once that's been whisked away three servers surround the table, each with a skillet with a different pasta dish; ravioli stuffed with goat cheese and beets (seconds please!), tagliatelli with pork, and rigatoni with a FRESH tomato sauce. No canned tomatoes here.
If you are still hungry (!) the waiters come back to offer seconds. Yes, I'm unashamed to admit I took more ravioli with gluttunous glee.
Dessert is presented with an Italian flourish, peach and black raspberry sorbet are placed on either side of the dessert plates set center stage. On the plates...Italian cheesecake, fat slices of bread pudding and creamy chocolate mousse(?) with chocolate crust and chocolate sauce. There were at least 60 bottles of wine on the wine list and every bottle was $25.00. I can't get a decent bottle of wine for that price in a Cambridge restaurant!
The restaurant is run by the son of Lydia of "Lydia's Kitchen" , a weekly Public TV cooking show.
The next morning we headed back to the Jacob Javits Center. It was our third and final shopping day at the International Gift Show where I was scouting out new stuff for the store. I found two little french vendors tucked away in the corners and aisles which were my favorite finds in the three day trip. Blown glass for windows and design, black mud for the body, linen towels for luxury. Mercury glass for candles, giant felt log carriers, vintage beaded ornaments and french wine cups. Recycled tires into soap dishes and carrier bags (sounds iffy I know, but I loved them).
Dash and Albert had some gorgeous new blankets, pillows and bags that recall old Indian blankets and rugs. They're coming in late September. I await autumn days and nights anxiously.
Once my birthday has come and gone, summer is essentially over for me. NEXT! I want the next season to enter the room. I want light cottons to move aside for tartan plaids and flannels.
Bring on the pumpkins! I want pumpkin bread and pies and pancakes. The dog days of summer confuse my senses in August. I desire chilly nights and cardigans. (did I mention that I found a lovely nut brown cardigan with applique and embroidery at Anthropologie.)
Understand please, it's not just me...the stores have sweet, sweet inventory out, begging to be bought and worn...but it's autumn inventory...how unfair is this on a 90 degree day!?
All that aside, as Janna and I were strolling down the street after leaving that fabulous store we passed a Jean Louis David hair salon. The best haircut I ever had was in one of those salons in Paris. I mentioned this to my friend and she encouraged me to go in and let them have at my head once again. So in we went and sure enough, there was an opening and I let them lead me away. I so appreciate, after a day on my feet, sitting down and leaning my head back into a salon sink where someone massages my head as they wash the dirt and grime out of my hair. The stylist, I'm pretty sure, attached a flowbie to a vacuum hose and razored my hair. It was definately a thing a mother used on her kids in the 60's! But I'm happy with the end result and feel like a little kid flipping her pigtails from side to side at the lightness of my shorn head.
On to dinner ( yes, we're eating again) at a tapas restaurant with an outdoor garden. I've never ordered from a tapas menu so I put all my trust in Janna. She orders grilled shrimp, baby artichokes, calamari of course, and a chorizo omelette. It's all good.
Happily sedated with our food we grab a cab and go back to the hotel to check out our luggage. Janna does that while I try to get the car out of the parking garage. First they bring a brand new toyota sedan. I'm tempted, but confess it's the wrong car. They try again. This time they bring a brand new BMW. The biggest one I've ever seen! Do you think it was the kicky little haircut? Maybe they just found it hard to believe this hair could be waiting for a 16 year old car... They must have looked a bit closer and saw the gray strands because on the third try my faithful blue station wagon putts around the corner and down the ramp.
I picked up my friend with her Sephora glow and glittered eyes , along with the luggage and we decided to hit one of the Ever Present Starbucks On Every Corner Of NYC for a quick cup of coffee before we headed home. Somehow, all the way from Broadway to Chelsea to the Lincoln Tunnel every Starbucks has disappeared. There was not one to be found. I'm still confused by those missing coffee shops 24 hours later. Oh well... Thank goodness for Starbucks on the turnpike...