On Location in Manhattan: With Susan Weinrebe

Roberta on the Arts

On Location in Manhattan: With Susan Weinrebe - Day Two

On Location in Manhattan: With Susan Weinrebe - Day Two

- On Location: Sponsors and Testimonials

Mustang Harry's

Mustang Harry's
352 7th Avenue (btwn. 29th/30th St.)
(212) 268-8930
www.mustangharrys.com
Ask for Emma

www.mustangharrys.com

Susan Weinrebe
October 26, 2005

Day Two, Friday October 26, 2005
Keeping My Promise
VIP Panorama - New Yorker Hotel
Lunch –Mustang Harry’s
Inside A.C. Pianocraft
Gift Shopping
Jazz At Lincoln Center/Savion Glover
Dinner –Ristorante Amarone

On Location in Manhattan: With Susan Weinrebe – Day One
On Location in Manhattan: With Susan Weinrebe – Day Two
On Location in Manhattan: With Susan Weinrebe – Day Three
On Location in Manhattan: With Susan Weinrebe – Day Four

A promise is a promise. I set the alarm for 7:30 so I could tone and energize downstairs at New York Underground Fitness. With no more than a touch of concealer for the dark circles under my eyes and a wee bit of lip gloss, I threw on my ubiquitous and internationally OK black workout wear for a quick circuit or two at the club.

I wasn’t surprised to find a handful of people (different ones than the day before) installed on treadmills and working with trainers. The well-ventilated room was cool, but as I did my routine, I quickly warmed up. I was grateful for the water cooler and rehydrated during and after free weights for triceps and an amazing machine that assisted me in doing the first dips of my life. Plentiful towels were appreciated even though I preferred to shower upstairs.

From my panoramic window view I could tell it was a gorgeous day. So, after a super fast toilette, and a wave goodbye to Carl, I met Roberta at the sort of casual deli/pizza/sandwich place I wish were in my neighborhood. She’d pre-ordered a couple of smoked salmon wraps and coffee at The Bread Factory Cafe and all I had to do was sit and eat. Delicious. But there was no lingering…we had places to go and people to see.

A Quick cab, and we arrived at the New Yorker Hotel, a grand Art Deco edifice steps from Madison Square Garden, Penn Station and other city icons. Thomas McCaffrey, the Director of Sales and Marketing, graciously took time out to zip us up to the VIP Lounge and show us its breathtaking south and east wraparound view.

Under Mr. McCaffrey’s watchful eye, the two-story beacon letters of the hotel’s sign are being restored and will blazon the sky, as good or better than originally, in time for the New Yorker’s 75th anniversary and New Year’s Eve. I could easily have relaxed with a cup of coffee and absorbed the bustle below, the river, and the Statue of Liberty in the distance, but noooo! Off we were again.

Picking up the pace, I was still able to appreciate a great building mural, the street scene, and a mounted police officer whose big bay was skittering on the pavement. I felt far away from my firecracker mare and called to the officer, “Good job!" as she kept her four-legged partner in line. “He’s being a jerk!" she called back to me and jogged on.

Then, we stepped into a bit of Ireland on American soil, Mustang Harry’s Restaurant for lunch and a visit with Robert Abrams, publisher of the online magazine, ExploreDance, to which I also contribute. Lavish wooden paneling, numerous angled televisions, stained glass, attentive staff and most importantly, delicious food!

After Natalie, our bubbly welcoming hostess, seated us in a booth near the stretch bar, we set about deciding what to eat. A raw-bar quality slab of tuna in a salad was an easy choice. Robert felt his cold would be comforted with tea and homey shepherd’s pie, and I couldn’t resist the authentic crab cake po’ boy sandwich.

Our waiter must have been told a couple dozen times how alluring his Irish accent was, because he said, “It’s better than a Ferrari!" Hmmm. Towards the end of our unhurried meal, Niall, the owner, came over and we chatted horse talk for a moment. Mustang Harry’s and its sister eatery, Mustang Sally’s, I found out, were given triple threat names. First, they refer to Niall’s love of horses and his experience with them back in Ireland. Second, the names are a play on a well-known movie title. Finally, they’re a tribute to the hard driving popular song by The Commitments, which I couldn’t get out of my head until our next stop.

A.C. Pianocraft is to pianos what “the works" at the best salon in town is to one’s face and figure! Alex Kostakis, the son of the founder, gave me a conducted tour through the showroom and downstairs workshops, as notes from classical music, played by a visitor, wrapped the building in sound.

I hope my mouth didn’t hang open, but I was astounded by the number of grand pianos I saw, dozens and dozens, some even shipped from overseas! All were there for meticulous and authentic restorations for which Alex and his skilled staff are renowned. Each piano is taken apart piece by piece, cleaned, refurbished and given the precise tonal quality that best pleases the owner, who comes in to approve it before the piano is considered finished.

Seeing the tiniest parts from pianos at each workstation, what Alex called, “the heart of the shop," made me incredibly nervous. What if there were extra bits left over at the end? But Alex assured me that doesn’t happen. When he told me, “I love what I do and love who I do it for," I believed every word. After all, I could see the quality of the many finished products before me.

If I had more time, I would have loved to return to AC Pianocraft for one of Roberta’s monthly Piano-Plus Jazz Series held in the elegant setting.

By now, it had been several hours since we’d eaten and I hadn’t shopped for needed gifts! We passed Ray and Frank’s Liquors and dropped in to say hello to Gladys and thank her again for the heady Alizé Cognac I’ve enjoyed serving guests back home and the delicious cabernet in my room.

Just a bit more walking brought us to one of the most tempting purveyors of gourmet, fresh and gorgeously presented foods I’ve ever seen, Amish Market. The plenitude of fruits, vegetables, chocolates, pastries, cheeses, and deli choices was staggering. Little inlets of displays created “rooms" for categories of foods, and, in the tea alcove, I even found bush tea, exactly the kind one of my favorite literary characters drinks as she solves mysteries!

With all this largesse, it behooved me to bear some of it home to a friend who is a restaurateur and pastry chef. No problem there except limiting what I was willing to carry on the plane. Roberta treated me to an energizing cup of coffee and needlessly rich pastry as we rested at a tiled table in the deli section. Again, I felt regret that I couldn’t return to Amish Market often for a bite or to buy anything my heart and taste buds desired.

This little snack (besides the cheese and wine in my room) was meant to hold me until much later, after the entertainment portion of our day. Political news on TV, back at my room, did little to refresh me. Once I had primped and changed into my “Restoration dandy" frock coat and lace, though, waved farewell to Carl, and stepped into the bustling traffic, I was good to go.

Jazz At Lincoln Center! The building gleams and glitters and so do the people who throng its glass-walled setting for talent. Human figures sculpted in heroic proportions by the artist, Botero, emphasized the grandiosity of the route we took through the new Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle to get to Rose Theater.

Tonight, Savion Glover, the tappist summa cum laude was dancing. Part of the fun of any performance event is people watching. The clothing and jewelry I saw, not to mention fascinating pairing up of couples, was a floorshow in itself, as Roberta and I waited in line for a drink at intermission.

A quick peek in at several restaurants, one of which serves meals starting at $350, and we felt like we’d need to deposit our first borns to get in, helped us decide to go somewhere more welcoming.

Ristorante Amarone it was! The moment I walked into the intimate and warm space, filled with celebrating show people, regulars, and those soon-to-be regulars, I felt comfortable. Tony, the owner, greeted us in the continental manner, with double kisses, and his personable charm made me feel as though I were being welcomed into his home.

We were glad to start with hospitality-sized glasses of a delicious Barollo, and, while we were deciding what to eat, struck up a conversation with Kimberly Hester at the next table, a dancer from The Producers and her friend, and joined in discussing with others at the bar, plans for Ristorante Amarone’s imminent Halloween party.

Roberta and I decided to split some courses and ordered: asparagus soup, salad, and pasta puttanesca, but when the food arrived, the “half portions" were more like entire meals. How delightful it was to linger over every delicious bite, watch the passing throng from our window table, and relax after a day touring around! When we left, Tony took both my hands in his and made me promise to return to his trattoria. That’s a sure thing!

Back at the Holiday Inn, the lobby was mostly quiet. Even so, I asked Vlad, a sweet-faced security man who looked like he could crush Moscow in a bear hug, to see me to my door. He escorted me to my room and waited until I was locked inside before calling, “Good night." Yes, it had been!