Wednesday 2 January 2013

Shopping, New Year’s Eve and Sore Feet



I’m not sure if you noticed, yesterday’s blog was actually a day late due to sheer exhaustion, and so following below is why…

This morning started off innocuously enough.  Himself said we had to get an early start as we were going out to a clothing outlet.  It’s about an hour on the bus from Manhattan, so we had a hearty (sigh) breakfast then up to midtown to get the bus.  There’s a lot more snow out past New Jersey, about a foot deep in some spots.  Luckily it was a gorgeous sunny day though.

I thought, in some kind of moment of stupidity, that I’d wear my ankle boots with heels, my rationale was that they’re quicker to get on and off in change rooms rather than the knee high flat boots I’d been wearing everywhere.  Big mistake, after four hours of solid shopping (and we didn’t even manage to get to all the stores we wanted to) my feet were throbbing!! Argh!  But lots of money spent and ‘stuff’ bought.

We then remembered we had a rather early dinner that night so raced back to the bus stop for the 4:10pm bus.  It had only taken an hour to get there after all… plenty of time to get home, dressed and then dinner for 6:00… ha.

It took 20 minutes longer to get back, then as we were pulling into the bus interchange it was the bus jam from hell.  I have never seen so many buses in one place! Le diabolique! So then we were running late – and you can’t not turn up for a dinner reservations here as they still charge you! Argh! So there’s us, with bags of shopping, frazzled after a full day out and having to go straight to the restaurant.

Of course, the interchange where the bus interchange is, is very near Times Square – at 5:30 it was already absolutely packed with the New Year’s Eve crowds, lots of road closures and lots of cabs but none vacant.  We finally flagged one down, when he found out we wanted to go downtown he was very happy to take us – he said he was ditching Manhattan for Queens – way too busy here!

So we tried (and succeeded) on getting all our shopping into two bags and I also did a sneaky shirt change (so sneaky even himself didn’t notice until we got out of the cab – ha) and piled out one block down from where we were meant to be (Prince St, not Spring!) The restaurant in question this night was Raoul’s which is a bit of a NY institution, very famous for their Steak au Poivre with Pommes Frites (that’s steak and chips to you).  By the time we arrived we were totally exhausted from our hard core shopping; and looked it too I’m sure.

But they put us in a cosy corner out the back which was nice, they had balloons everywhere – New Yorkers know how to do NYE in style!  We both had a very light starter and champagne (as it’s NYE after all).  Himself had a goat’s cheese salad and I had Huîtres du Jour (that’s oysters to you).  The oysters… totally bland!! What is going on? Have our taste buds expired?? Or had the rinsed the oysters in fresh water?? Surely not.  They were on a bed of ice and I finally decided they were just too cold.  Himself said I should have let them warm up – that’s when I pointed out that what with the ice, I could be waiting a while.  I think in winter they should use the whole ‘bed of salt’ option…

I went with a pumpkin ravioli for Entree (that's main to you) and Himself decided to once again go the steak.  The ravioli was delicious, it was served with mushrooms and sprout leaves, yum - typically though, a bit heavy on the butter...  Himself’s steak was probably the best we’d had in New York but still a pale comparison to the piece of Dexter fillet I have waiting in the chest freezer at home…  We decided to be piggies and also had dessert. I, the chocolate fondant* and Himself crème brulee.  Both were delicious but of course, way too much food.

Once we finished we staggered home and passed out for a while before our NYE plans.  Well, Himself passed out – I wasn’t allowed as it takes me too long to wake up after naps :-p So I had a bath instead…

Then all dressed up ready for Raines Law Room.  It’s a Speak Easy style bar hidden in a basement down one of the side streets near Union Square.  So we mooched down the street and rang the bell – the door for the place is really non-descript, you need the actual street number or you’d never find it.  A French doorman peeked around the door and asked could he help us? Yes, we answered, we had a reservation for tonight.  Ah yes, come in, come in.  He took our coats and then showed us in to the most gorgeous bar I have ever been to.  It’s done up 1920s style, like an opulent parlour, with small groups of velvet chairs and tiny tables, then a couple of 2-3 seater lounge areas (the lounge) followed by the kitchen where the bar staff are (plus anyone else who wants to hang there).  The music was very jazz, 20s and chilled as were the staff, drinks and canapés.  It was all very quirky and cool.  To get the service there were little door plates on the walls with chains hanging from them, you pulled the chain and a waitress would come along.

We chilled, drank cocktails and ate canapés.  Just before midnight the French doorman came around and offered us all ‘noise makers’ (very classy ones, I might add) and they switched the music across live to Times Square for the official countdown.  At midnight we all blew our noise makers, kissed (only each other, no strangers) and drank champagne.  At about 1:30 we left and strolled home via some bar on 2nd Ave.  Himself was up for more partying, I was up for more taking my shoes off and lying in bed whimpering softly to myself due to the state of my feet.  Really?? Shopping?? Four Hours?? High Heels??? What was I thinking‽  And of course, new heels for the night out.

We eventually got home and passed out.  I wonder how bad Himself’s hangover will be…

N.B.  You might notice there are no photos? We were so exhausted we forgot to take some at dinner…

*Just for you, Wee Girl – it was pretty nice

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I'm loving your blog, M! Wish I was there. I'm glad you got the dessert too on NYE.

How are you planning to bring the new wardrobe home?!?!

Impractical shoes? How very you! I'd have worn daggy, sensible sneakers, but wouldn't look nearly as refined as you. Hope your sore ol' feet get some good rest.