July 1, 2007
Just back from New York, where my husband and I attended a Lubavitcher (I think I spelled it right, but don't hesitate to tell me if it is wrong!) wedding. The wedding itself was great fun -- it was in Crown Heights, and absolutely fascinating to me, this Southern Christian girl. So many things I didn't expect, although I had been to one before.
This time, we walked down Eastern Avenue -- a beautiful street, I might add, with wide parks down the center, old homes that beckoned, and well maintained gardens. It was hot this week in New York, and we felt hot, too. I dressed all wrong -- or so it seemed. I knew I had to cover up, so I wore a black long sleeveless outfit with a light black long top over it. Not the thing to walk down two blocks on Eastern Avenue at 4:00 on a June afternoon. I ached for one of my Charleston hats.
We stood in front of the Rebbe's house, a hoopa was brought out, and the marriage proceeded. We stood on the expansive sidewalk and watched. It was hard to see, actually, as the platform was small and there were what seemed to be a dozen black clad men there. The bride was blindfolded before the walk to the house was started, and guided by her mother and grandmother (my husband's sister) and her mother in law. I knew those black-clad men were hotter than I was.
The bride was and is stunning, sweet and smart. The food was good, but not worth enumerating -- the dancing, more fun than I've had in a long time! The women dance with the women, the men with the men, divided by a low wall. We shared the music...and danced and danced. At a boy-girl dance, it is so hard to get the boys to dance -- at this, who needed them? We danced with each other!
We had enough fun to not mind the blackout in which we were stuck, or the cancelling of our flight after hours in the airport. Midnight, and no where to go. We found a place, but trust me, you don't want the name!
I did have the chance to eat at Jean-Georges with my friend Alice Fixx and had many memorable dishes. The most memorable, however, was the foie gras (I say it with fear and trembling...will I receive a barrage of complaints about eating it?) which was perfect. It had a crisp, caramel sheet on top -- burned caramel, not even dark brown. The two textures, as well as the strawberry sauce, were delicious enough to make me remember them now.
Jack and I had another memorable meal -- at the Conde Nast building. We had a long meeting with Ruth Reichel, one of my heroettes, in hopes of getting her to Charleston for our food and wine festival (see Charlestonfoodandwinefestival.com). Then we met Jack's cousin, Rick Hertzberg, and his wife Virginia, at the cafeteria. I'm afraid Jack and I went wild, getting a greek lemon chicken, salad, two chocolate chip cookies each, and a chocolate pastry.
All in all a fattening two days.