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Hello Crush,
You’re probably wondering about Koko. She’s very happy at the moment. Though I’m not happy with her. Earlier this morning while I was still in my coffee daze she chewed the binding of a carpet I had bought in the Souk Semmarine in Marrakech a decade ago and shipped back, through an archaic customs maze.
Putting that aside, we are enjoying a beautiful few days in New York with glorious spring weather. Here she is enjoying a sit on a bench in Central Park, clueless over the carpet kerfuffle.
I am in New York unexpectedly. Mostly in an effort to take my mind off the disappointing denouement of what had been the promising start to a lovely romance. It ended — to my (and his, he says) surprise — when his ex-girlfriend got wind of our dating and showed up with bells and whistles, unannounced, at the hotel he was staying in abroad while traveling with his sisters. (Dramatic, right? I am staying away. To my mind that kind of theatricality has Fatal Attraction vibes.) The sadness that has settled in since is more from the loss of what might have been, the loss of that feeling that I might finally be off the market, then the relationship itself. It was only a few weeks.
New York has done its job. Taken my mind off it (mostly).
For one thing, I got a last minute invitation to join friends at what is currently the hottest private club in town or, at least, the most “clout-driven club.” Out of an abundance of discretion I shouldn’t actually name it, but it is an LA-based club that opened a month ago in the West Village with an impenetrably lengthy waitlist. (In case you happen to be interested, here is the NY Post’s report on NYC’s private club scene as of 10 days’ ago. Tomorrow things could be different.)
“Hey,” my cloutiest friend texted, as it happened, just as I landed at La Guardia, ”In town? Want to join Sarah, Katie and me at [initials of club — she only used the initials!] for dinner tonight?”
On the clout front, the club did not disappoint. We were seated at a front table during prime time. There was a rail-thin Hollywood agent-looking-type wearing an electric blue turtleneck under a black strapless number sitting at the bar near me. (It was the kind of unexpected yet also entirely trendy pairing that only a rail-thin Hollywood agent type could pull off, and she did.) Within minutes of taking my seat, she got up to walk toward Jeremy Strong (in a gray bucket hat) and Michelle Williams (in a pair of baggy barrel jeans much like these) on their way to a table behind us. I was facing them so I had to notice, but because nobody else at my table was facing them I also felt like I had to report. They didn’t look around (thank god) (this is New York, after all). And my friend Katie had no idea who either star was, which I must say I had some respect for. (She works in biotech. Scientific American is her pop culture.)
If clout is your thing, then this club whose name I shouldn’t name is your thing. If you can get in.
It was fun to check it out. I wish I could share photos but they put stickers on your iPhone camera when you check in, to doubly make the point about all the clouty celebrity folks who’ll be inside. Obviously. But I didn’t walk away without proof that I’d been there. I grabbed a stash of bit-o-honey’s (remember those?) from their “popular” candy bar on my way out. And I mean candy literally here, not as in the “candy” of like New York in the 80’s. (Trust me — I saw the gaunt crowd — that’s the loneliest (literal) candy bar in New York.) When I got home I put the cup of candy on my bar, for lack of a better spot.
The next day, in my COVID-purchased gray Vuori sweats and a baseball hat from my favorite golf club, Koko and I got up and headed to the park for a walk. On my way out I grabbed a bit-0-honey, the club and its clout, as well as my short-lived romance, a hazy memory.
I love you, New York.
Thanks to everyone who sent me condolence notes over my brother-in-law’s death. My family has had a tough year, and it helps to get your support.
In This Letter. +Roam: Manhattan’s Upper East Side From Dish Everybody thought it was odd, me feeling pulled into the city just as so many bold-faced names and long-term New Yorkers were pulling out. +I See You Like Board Games. Dating App Version. Man of few words. +Lou Lou’s Citrus Olive Oil Cake Recipe I told my friend I’d make her an olive oil cake for Easter brunch. +dishing. +Social Media I Loved This Week. +Our Song of the Week The beauty of just letting go
Roam: Manhattan’s Upper East Side from Dish Stanley
A recurring column where CRUSH Readers share a snapshot of where they’ve been and what they loved there.
Manhattan's Upper East Side
Tell us a little bit about you.
As CRUSH Readers, you already know a little bit about me! Since this is our travel column I’ll focus on that. Perhaps because I was born in Japan to two American parents, I was born to travel or, at the very least, born feeling comfortable in foreign lands. I have gone through many periods in my life — particularly the decade after my husband’s death — when I have been a voracious traveler.
My favorite trip was the one I took with two close girlfriends when I turned 50: we went to Madrid, then Marrakech, then took a sometimes harrowing ride through the Atlas Mountains down to the Western Sahara. We stayed in a small, gorgeous, homey riad in Marrakech. That trip incorporated every element I enjoy most about traveling — immersing myself in another culture, glamour, history, adventure (even a little danger, though that was not anticipated). Also, the intimacy of prolonged time with close friends in another world, and the ‘other worldly’ space that creates for conversations to unfold slowly that weave back and forth over days. Revealing more secrets from the people you already know quite well.
As COVID was wrapping up, I decided to move back to New York City. I had been living in Boston for twenty years by then, having moved there to marry my late husband. Before that I spent my twenties living in many different neighborhoods in New York, but mostly in the West Village. For a year in the mid-90’s I was a house sitter in the glamorous Upper West Side building Nora Ephron made famous, the Apthorp. In exchange for free rent in a penthouse apartment outfitted with an intimidating Aga stove, I took care of the owners’ cat, Mellarooney.
Moving back to New York in my fifties, I was drawn to Central Park and the elegant, quiet, clean, tree-lined streets of the Upper East Side. Everybody thought it was odd, me being pulled in by the city just as so many bold-faced names and long-term New Yorkers were pulling out. But it felt both generous-hearted and exciting, like taking an old lover back when he‘d hit a rough patch. The choice of the UES seemed, in particular, like a mistake to most everyone. “Dead, Dish,” said one former New Yorker, who had just sold her Park Avenue apartment and exited for Naples. “Madison Avenue is boarded up. You’re crazy. It’s never coming back.”
Yet, back I went. And back it is. I got what I thought was a good price on a prewar two bedroom apartment that needed renovating. Three years later, the construction finally done, I have fallen truly, madly, completely in love with my new neighborhood.
I love it with the passion of the newly converted. Instead of traveling abroad, I feel drawn to drinking in my new (and former) lover. Here is what I love (so far).
In one word, describe the atmosphere:
Refreshed.
Where should we stay?
There are no bargain hotels on the Upper East Side. If you want to stay in the neighborhood you have to be feeling up for a ‘splurge.’ (Particularly tough in the current market conditions.) Over the last decade when I have visited I stayed at The Mark, The Carlyle and The Lowell. One thing they share is that they all offer terrific, above-par dining and bar options that you’ll want to take advantage of if you stay there.
Favorite hotel: The Lowell. A lovely, elegant boutique hotel experience. It has the lovely Marjorelle restaurant downstairs, French with a Moroccan touch. Its Club Room is only for guests, a nice touch.
The Carlyle is the grand dame of old glamour hotels, memorialized in the documentary Always at the Carlyle. I stayed here for two nights on my way to London a few years ago, splurging primarily because I wanted to see Isaac Mizrahi’s sold out cabaret show at Cafe Carlyle. The Cafe Carlyle is its legendary, intimate cabaret performance venue and worth the price (at least once). As a hotel guest I was able to snag a seat at the bar.
The Mark is the favorite of a lot of friends. I tried it when I visited New York to look for my apartment, but only because it was the tail-end of COVID and neither The Lowell nor The Carlyle had reopened. It is both more ’modern chic’ and younger than either of the other two, and it’s a lovely place to stay, though to me it is less comfortable and cosy. Perhaps a little too ‘flash over substance’ to be a favorite of mine.
Recently reopened: I have a friend who says that The Surrey is the best of all of them. I haven’t stayed there myself, but if one is looking for a glamorous, splurgey week end, it should be in the running. I have been to Casa Tua (the restaurant, as well as The Lounge, as I note below.
Also an option: The Loew’s Regency on Park Avenue between 61st and 62nd. A friend who was in town to go to the same cocktail party as me stayed here because “it’s a good location, and I could use loyalty rewards.” Report: “I wouldn’t hesitate to stay there again in order to save a few bucks compared to what would otherwise be better choices. It’s clean and comfy. The breakfast is solid to get you off for the day, though not 1980’s power breakfast worthy.” (I think he threw that in because we both lived in NYC in the 80’s.)
Favorite hotel bars, for various situations: The UES is blessed with a few great options for chic, upscale hotel bars — each perfect in its own way, and for its own thing. The Casa Tua Lounge (to the right, off the hotel lobby) is my preferred neighborhood hotel bar for grabbing a small bite and drinks with a friend (or date). You expect glamour when you’re in a stately UES hotel, and you get that here. Also, it’s the right balance of people watching with an acceptable noise level for having a conversation. The Casa Tua Lounge leans toward an intimate, clubby feel and it’s where I end up most often. In contrast, The Mark Bar (a block away) is more of a “see and be seen” spot (which has its value). And while Bemelman’s Bar at the Carlyle is the most authentically glamorous, I prefer it for popping in for a late afternoon glass of wine (around 4pm) when there‘s no line (yet), and it‘s still quiet enough to have a conversation. In the evenings there is usually live music (and a cover), and while conversations are difficult, it’s great for enjoying live music in an intimate, elegant, bubbling setting.
Favorite hotel restaurant for breakfast: Dowling’s at the Carlyle.
Favorite hotel restaurant for lunch: Casa Tua at the Surrey.
Continue reading here
Dating App Texts: I See You Like Board Games.
Sometimes I can’t help myself but to share clever, if disappointing, text exchanges from the dating apps.
Lou Lou’s Citrus Olive Oil Cake Recipe
Over a decade ago when Marc Vetri first published his cookbook Rustic Italian Food my close friend Dina and I took a cooking class with him. Vetri was in Boston at Barbara Lynch’s Test Kitchen (now closed), where she hosted her friends in a small setting of 10 people. A visiting chef cooked a dinner in front of us, explaining as she or he went along, and then we ate together. Vetri served olive oil cake for dessert, and it’s the first one I ever tasted. I loved the subtlety of it — how the sweetness doesn’t clobber your tongue — and the balance of citrus with the earthiness of the olive oil.
A month after taking Vetri’s class, Dina and I had a dinner party serving the same menu, including the olive oil cake. The whole thing was perfect, really, but the olive oil cake felt revelatory at that time, at least to our guests (it has since become quite popular).
I didn’t have the Vetri recipe handy on Easter when I had promised to bring an olive oil cake to a friend’s home for brunch. My friend Lou Lou (she’s from L.A.) sent me her recipe. I compared it to Vetri’s after, and they’re very close.
Everyone at Easter said they liked it, so here it is. A perfect spring dessert.
Ingredients
-1 cup olive oil
-3 eggs
-3/4 to 1 cup granulated sugar (depending on your sweet tooth)
-2 tsp vanilla extract
-1 tsp almond extract
-the juice from an orange or lemon (don't need more than 3/4 cup)
-zest from 1 small orange or lemon
-1 tsp salt
-1/2 tsp baking powder
-1/2 baking soda
-2 cups all purpose flour
-1 cup whole milk
-powdered sugar for dusting
Directions
- Whisk together olive oil, eggs and sugar
- Add vanilla, almond, zest and juice. Whisk to combine.
- Sift together salt, baking powder, baking soda, and flour. Alternating with the milk, add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients in a couple batches. Don't over-mix, you just want to combine.
- Pour the batter into greased baking dish. Bake at 350 for 45-50 minutes until it passes the toothpick test with no goop
- Once cooled, sift powdered sugar on top
dishing.
Things on my radar.
In this reel, podiatrist Paul Macaulay rates popular sneakers on a scale of 1 to 10 for plantar fasciitis. Okay, funny not funny, all my sneakers are rated 0 to 2. (Yours are too, probably.)
I’m into board games (mah jongg, backgammon), but I haven’t been to the most popular hang out spot in NYC. It draws 500 people weekly to play board games.
This dog is a tiny dog. Have you seen this reel? So funny.
Another funny comedian doing her funny thing on reels. Checking into a flight in Italy. Perfetto!
Social Media I Loved This Week
I have fallen in love with Oleg’s instagram feed of odd flower-like insects and insect-like flowers. This pink number is a praying mantis.
Song of the Week
Let Him Fly by Patty Griffin
Because sometimes you just need inspiration from a break-up song.
Have a wonderful week, CRUSHes.
XO,
Dish
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The Crush Letter is a weekly newsletter from Dish Stanley curating articles & intelligence on everything love & connection - friendship, romance, self-love, sex. If you’d like to take a look at some of our best stories go to Read Us. Want the Dish?
