New York stories

It’s 6.30am but feels more like lunchtime. That’s because I am in New York. The city (and some of its visitors) that never sleeps. We are here to celebrate the boy Bert’s 21st. 

The first time I came to the Big Apple was in 1992. It was also the first time I got on a plane and turned left and up some stairs. I felt like a movie star although was a minion who had joined an American investment bank which was just building up its European business. Heady days of the early 1990s when Loadsamoney summed up the excesses pretty well. I had never been greeted on a plane by name before, never been asked if someone could take my coat and then offered a hot towel and glass of champagne. My first business trip ever! I wasn’t really sure what, why, how or where. A few mistakes were bound to happen. This included ordering a poached egg for breakfast in my room the first morning for 7.30am. I woke at 5.30am, experiencing jet lag for the first time, and got up, showered, dried my hair, and dressed and it was still only 6am. I then had to wait an hour and a half for my breakfast to arrive. Luckily I had a ‘suite’ in the Carlyle Hotel – so was able to wander around a bit. By the time the doorbell went, I was tired and hungry and ready to get back into bed. The waiter pushed in an enormous trolley with a silver dome on the top. I thought maybe they had got the order wrong or the room number wrong. When he asked where I would like breakfast, I looked anxiously around the room and pointed at the bedside table. He looked as confused as I was and suggested I might be more comfortable in the chair. Happy to oblige I sat down whereupon he wheeled the trolley over to me and with a dramatic flourish lifted the silver dome. Underneath sat a very small poached egg on toast in the middle of an enormous plate. I couldn’t believe how ridiculous it looked. I then realised I had to tip the waiter so had to move the trolley so I could get out and fumble in my wallet for some money. By the time I got to sit down my egg, it was slightly warm and the toast was cold. But it felt like lunchtime and I was starving.

This trip has been one of the best. Being a party of six, we had to work hard on a plan and I am grateful to Bell for her sensible suggestions which kept everything running smoothly. We have created lots of great memories. 

I was keen to try a Cronut – had heard about these croissant/doughnuts which were very sought after. We forgot to pre-order two weeks before we wanted them (pre-Christmas is always a blur) so Gary and I woke early enough (not difficult) to join the orderly queue. The temperature has dropped about 15 degrees and we waited in that line for 2 hours. I was happy to suffer the pain although did question it a few times when my logical brain kicked in but Gary really suffered although this was alleviated by a white Porsche being parked outside the restaurant for most of the queuing time. Once inside the bakery, I clearly went mad from being hungry, tired, confronted by a lot of options patisserie-wide and wanting to make the most of the two- hour wait. I didn’t dare think about the amount of sugar involved. Four Cronuts, four cookies, 10 madeleines, a croissant, two cappuccinos and one frozen s’more (made to order with a 5-10 minute wait time), we waddled back out into the cold passed the now diminished queue. Timing could have been better….

We are off to the diner which is featured in Seinfeld – more later ..