Posted in Eating, Travel

NYC 16 – The National

I’m a big fan of watching competitive cookery, especially American competitive cookery. I think I’ve exhausted all of Netflix, both UK and US versions (although new episodes of Chopped AND Cut-throat Kitchen just popped up, goodbye spare time).

So when I booked us up for NYC secretly, I thought I’d throw a little something for myself into the pot by booking into Geoffrey Zakarian’s The National for dinner on our first evening. Luckily, Lee is also a fan of good food and drink, so it was no hardship for him to tag along!

The food was incredible, just as I’d hoped it would be. It’s not cheap by any means, but it is great ingredients cooked with skill and care and that’s pretty much my requirement when it comes to dining out.  That cauliflower dish was to die for, but the star was the cider and mustard-glazed brussels sprouts. I know, right? Amazing.

I’d mentioned when I booked that we were in town celebrating Lee’s birthday and they sweetly made a note and brought out a free dessert complete with candle – such a nice touch which really made our first night in NY special.

And as it’s just round the corner from the Waldorf Astoria, we were able to waddle back to the hotel and collapse into bed after a very lovely evening indeed.

If you are turning into a bit of a foodie, like me, then you might like peruse the menu here. The signature NTL. Mule cocktail was also HELLA good – I may have had more than one (three).

Definitely will be heading back here once my credit card recovers next time I’m in the region.

More tales from the City soon!

Posted in Travel

NYC 16

Imagine waking up one morning and your wife saying, let’s not go to work today. Let’s go on a trip! To London! We’ll see a show, we’ll spend a few days, it’ll be fun. Don’t worry, I’ve squared it with your boss – let’s go to the airport. I’ve packed a bag!

Then imagine you get to the airport and your wife’s pal happens to be on the same flight. Isn’t that a coincidence (it was)? Nice that he can take a snap you all happy and excited on the escalators.


Then imagine you go to board the plane to London and you find out that you’re not even going to London, you’re going to NEW FUCKING YORK.


Oh yeah, and you’re going Club Class because you managed to wangle a sneaky upgrade, so you can lie on the flat beds, lounging around in your fancy socks drinking champagne and having afternoon tea at 37,000 feet.


Where are we staying, by the way, asks your shell-shocked husband? Oh, just a wee place in Midtown Manhattan.


Am I the best wife? Hold your judgement, there’s more.


Imagine your wife didn’t actually lie about catching a show and snags front-row seats for Jersey Boys which you’ve been wanting to see for EONS.


Oh, yeah, and imagine your wife finds out your favourite band of like a zillion years release their album whilst you’re there and organises taxis out to the arse-end of Long Island to attend a Q&A launch party thing and you GET TO MEET YOUR HEROES.

Pretty rad wife, eh? But wait, there’s more.

Just consider how exciting it would be if your wife also arranged the perfect New York evening – amazing dinner, a carriage ride in Central Park in the dark and you get to finally sample that £2,000-a-bottle mega-rare bourbon you have always hankered after, only at the bloody Plaza.


Oh, yes, and she secretly colluded with your favourite cousins for them to join you for a few days and gad about town like gleeful kids.


Time for a smug super-wife Plaza toilets selfie, I’d say.


Thank you, New York. You played a blinder in the best surprise ever.