Summer's setting sun

Summer always seems to pass to fast. Until you look back and realize all the beautiful little moments you've had.

Like traipses through the park.

Rooftop drinks and concerts in the park.

Baseball! The minor leagues and the real deal.

Lobster rolls and DQ in Connecticut.

Daydreaming in bed.

Oh yeah, getting married and going on your honeymoon.

So it's Labor Day weekend. Seize summer's last days! Let loose! Act like a kid! Have fun! xo

New York or Paris?

Whichever city you find yourself in this month...

may it be filled with sunshine, chilled wine, good friends and that not-a-care-in-the-world feeling.

Bon vacances!

Summer atop the Met

Summer, summer, summer. The most glorious season of them all. This summer has been especially sublime. It rained on the Fourth of July, but otherwise it's been pitch-perfect: Warm, sunny days. Late sunsets and fireflies, which I can see outside my apartment windows. Lots of opportunities to eat ice cream.

As the weeks count down to having a baby (Three months away! And I'm at the point where I look at my belly and find it hard to believe that it can still grow and stretch for three more months. It's becoming uncomfortable, sometimes painful. But everything is still going really well, all healthy and normal, so no complaints.), Andrew and I are ticking things off our 'pre-baby-bucket-list.' Dinners, plays, travels, concerts, hikes... stuff we know will be more difficult to do. 

Last night, we met at the Met's rooftop terrace, which I had never in my 13 years of living in New York (well, 11, minus the two in Paris) been to. It was awesome!

Such views.

Such a beautiful evening, with dramatic lighting. I remember evenings in Paris with these kind of spellbinding bolts of light from above.

We grabbed a spot on the astroturf and admired the fashions, enjoyed the setting sun, and had a drink before part two of our delicious night: dinner at Alimentari e Vineri, a longtime favorite.

Nothing has really changed in our relationship. Sometimes I still call Andrew "my boyfriend" out of habit. And when I say "husband" or think of him that way, it just makes me smile. It's so funny: I have a husband. 

Whatever I call him, I just look at him and smile: so handsome and charming and wonderful and easy to be around.

Paris v. New York

When I came home from Paris in 2011, I noticed the "electrical wire shoe art" around Manhattan and Brooklyn.

It's still here.

And now, along with the ubiquitous bagels, burgers and Brooklyn Brewery beer, it's also in Paris.

Time, time, time…

It’s especially hard to believe that it is now March. Not only have weeks gone by and I haven’t blogged and I wonder what I do with my days, but the weather here in New York is on a cruel spin cycle. It’s just cold, snow, wind, repeat like a not-so-funny Groundhog day joke. I thought we were through the worst of it, but we’re slated for at least a couple storms this week. Le sigh.

Life has just become so much more inward-focused. While Andrew and I got to Kansas City and Rhinebeck in February…

 … and hit a couple new restaurants (River Park, Red Rooster, Bar Corvo), I obviously haven’t been sinking the same gusto into documenting these adventures. I did, however, check out the new Ladurée in Soho and get my fill of pancakes during Clinton Street Baking Company’s Pancake Month.

(Oui, they're as amazing as they look.)

There have been a few conversations about Paris, My Sweet and writing assignments.

There have been developments on the apartment front (I am planning to show some serious before and after photos!).

There has even been a little progress on wedding planning (nothing specific to reveal yet).

Mostly, I revel about my serious days of blogging and moonlighting, eating and adventuring. What fun it was. How life changes. And, what's new in your world??

Modern Love

Throughout my life, I’ve had periods when I thought about getting married and having babies. When I was a kid, I played a game when you named the girls who would be your bridesmaids along with the color of their dresses. When I was in my early twenties, I decided I wanted to have five kids. But the wedding and the babies never went further than fantasy and game play. I had a wonderful relationship in my twenties that just never moved toward marriage. And I had a wonderful time in my thirties being a solo traveler, cultivating amazing friendships, finding success as a writer and… moving to Paris.

Then a couple years ago, less than a year after returning to New York, I met Andrew. I won’t say it was a lightening bolt and I knew right away. But I will say there were enough auspicious moments and signs early on to know he and “it” was the real deal. It was a slow, steady, intriguing relationship that both challenged and comforted me. There was chemistry and camaraderie, respect and appreciation, we had fun together and learned from one another. He’s kind, patient, thoughtful, fun, sweet, surprising and sexy. He’s as game to go karaoke as he is to watch the Red Sox as he is to hang out with my family. We’ve been to Paris and Buenos Aires, Kansas City and Connecticut. We’ve eaten lobster rolls, almond croissants and carrot tartare. We’ve clocked about a million miles, walking around New York and Brooklyn, many of those miles on the hunt for a new apartment, which—finally!—we’ll move into together by month’s end. And last weekend, as we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, Andrew proposed.

Aside from those childhood daydreams, I’ve never been big into weddings. I’m not that girly-girl, big dress dreaming type. But I’m thrilled to be engaged. At 40. To Andrew. There’s nothing better than having waited for the right time, for the right guy. For waiting for your moment. For waiting for love.

I love you, Andrew.

A new season

It's official. As of Sunday, we reached the autumn months. It's no secret that I'm a lover of summer. As I wring every last ray of sun ray and hour of mild weather from this shoulder season, I wanted to share some of the beautiful summer moments around New York.

 

 Bon. Now that it is a new season, what are you most excited for?

A gift from the chocolate artist

My friend Silvia has been spending some quality time à Paris this year. I'm jealous. I can't believe I haven't been since December of last year. It's the longest I've gone since moving back to New York.

Needless to say, when she brought me back a box of Patrick Roger chocolates, I melted. That turquoise packaging is as iconic to Paris as Tiffany's blue is here to New York.

He calls himself a chocolate artist for the dazzling gem-like bonbons he creates, to say nothing of the full-scale chocolate sculptures in his boutique vitrines. But since—in my hands, anyway—his chocolate art is fleeting, it's his exquisite packaging that is the eternal art.

Summer lovin'

If you ask me, summer can never be long enough. A week on the Cape, a couple weeks of working long hours, tunnel vision on apartment purchase and renovations and suddenly, the season is threatening to come to a close. Not so fast.

This weekend was a deliberate attempt to squeeze summer into every minute.

We got rained out of roof deck cocktails at The Met, but still saw the Photography and the Civil War exhibition and strolled through the achingly impressive corridors. (And got our cocktails at Bemelmans instead.)

We walked the car-free streets to Balthazar for a breakfast of omelettes and waffles. 

And then admired our fair city before hitting the Staten Island Yankees' stadium for minor league baseball, followed by a late-night dinner at Alimentari e Vineria.

Weekend highlights also included a High Line stroll...

And... a cupcake. A beautiful banana cupcake, topped with cinnamon honey frosting.

How are you squeezing the best out of summer?