An American in Paris

Winter in NYC is really long. Nevertheless each cold day is different than the next. I really enjoy NYC in the winter because it is when the city is most alive. People rush to and fro to concerts, art galleries, Broadway plays, specialty restaurants and all wear what they want in some fashionable way. I like that classical music concerts are affordable and that there is hot chocolate and roasting nuts on almost every corner. I love the way the way the lights shine on the pavement mirroring the taxis and the groups of people crossing the street.

I love that in NYC everyone is a New Yorker even if they landed that very day. One recent thing I started to like is the saxophonist playing underground in the subway station of Columbus Circle, he knows what was being played that night in Lincoln Center and plays just the same tunes, sometimes even better.

Last Saturday we went on a date to hear the NY Philharmonic play Gershwin's "An American in Paris" and some Beethoven at Avery Fisher Hall.

Lincoln Center on a rainy night

 I really enjoyed Gershwin's piece especially since the story behind it is of an American walking the streets of Paris then suddenly feeling homesick.

From the inside looking out at the world below

You can tell in the music where the American feels homesick and where he is transported back to the streets of Paris. It reminded me of walking in Rivoltella, Italy and feeling so far from apple pie, pumpkin pie, the Appalachians, country music, people of every color and background belonging, big cups of American coffee and Kate Spade sales. The world seemed so big on days I was homesick and America felt really far across the Atlantic Ocean, so much water and wales in between me and the things I missed in those moments, then Rivoltella would be suddenly so close, in my sight, senses and the sweet old baker would somehow understand my face and give me an extra loaf of my favorite olive bread and smile. That smile made me feel better and like I belonged. The streets I daily walked slowly became familiar to me, Bella the black lab would be happy to see me every day and the post man learned to bring my mail or I would curse him out properly in Italian as a Rivoltellan would do. As I felt familiar the homesickness would fly away. Similarly, I felt homesick for Rivoltella when we moved to Jersey. You can never compare the beauty, culture and food of Northern Italy to Northern New Jersey. And in my heart I felt an emotional connection to Cremona like I belonged, I felt Cremonese, and the streets were mine. I will never be homesick for Cremona because I didn't leave it. I will be back one day. Cremona and I are still together in spirit like lovers who will never leave each other. I blogged about Cremona here, here, here and here.  And my favorite one is here. Enjoy :)

This is the third concert we've been to. There was a special price for "young" music lovers so we got three dates for each month in winter thinking it would make us go out of the house on cold days.

What we didn't think was that the concert might be on a day of negative degree weather or rain.

The rain made the curls super cute on my train companion. He was kind enough to let me take a picture, his number and give his curls a little kiss. 

Last Saturday we luckily had nice weather so decided to walk from Penn Station on 34th St to Rocco's Italian Pastry shop on Bleeker and 6th Ave. It was a good 20 blocks. We hustled about the Fashion District then it started to rain, so romantic (at first), I was warm and happy. Then the sky opened up like it did for Noah and it poured. We didn't have an ark. It rained so hard we could have swam to Rocco's.My waterproof coat and rubber rain boots were nice and dry at home. I didn't wear them because I wanted to look fancy for my concert date. Stupid girl...My wimpy umbrella was no protection, it was like holding a Christmas tree ornament over our heads. We got soaked to the bone. My feet were sloshing in dirty Manhattan water and I'm surprised I'm not sick today or infected with some interesting bacteria...Once we got to Rocco's we tried to dry off in the bathroom with the hand air drier. I squeezed most of the water out of my coat but it took 2 days to totally dry.

Dripping a puddle at Rocco's. Oh and my coat is really purple, not black, it just looks that way since it was sponged through with rain. 

Thankfully we didn't get sick and still enjoyed focaccia, a hot and sweet cup of cappuccino and lobster tail pastry. Rocco's never fails.

buono buono!