Fuck! It was only a matter time. What I thought were allergy attacks in NJ turned into a fever, coughing, fatigue and a heavy chest.
I woke up this morning feeling worse than yesterday and took my temperature which was 100.1. Then, I got out one of those free covid tests and surer than shit, it was positive. I kind of expected it.
This was the moment I’ve been fearing since the beginning. Maybe now the Psoriasis that reared its ugly head in April 2020 will finally go away along with the anxiety attacks.
They said from the very beginning everyone is going to get it, from the looks of it they were right with these two new variants.
Thankfully, I’ve had colds much worse than this. I am drinking plenty of fluids, staying in our bedroom resting, willing myself to get well, and to test negative quickly since the business is on hold at the moment.
It doesn’t matter who, what or where I got it, I have it and am dealing with it. C’est la vie.
Our view from the bench we sat on in front of Murray’s Cheese Shop.
Last Sunday, my sister Jen and me went on a 3-hour food and history walking tour of Greenwich Village, NY. It started as a sunny spring day in NYC, then the weather rapidly changed. After the second stop on the tour, it felt like the beginning of March.
I learned so much about the Village that I divided the food and history into two parts. The food tour that we took has been in business for 21 years. They took my gluten-free business very seriously; so did the restaurants.
Our guide’s name was Bert and he had a fantastic personality. He is an actor, comedian, improviser, and tour guide for 18 years. He knows his shit. Our group had 14 of us; luckily, everyone was fun and easygoing.
We met at the famous Murray’s Cheese. Wow, was all I could say. It is a beautiful store and a cheese lover’s dream. It is not overpriced if you can believe that one. Many cheese stores here in VT are much more expensive.
The first tasting spot was Joe’s Pizza. This stop I knew would be the roughest one for me. If I had to choose a last meal, NYC pizza would be on the menu.
Before Bert went inside to get the group’s pizza, he gave us the history. Joe’s has been in business for over 100 years and is famous. Everyone who’s anyone has eaten there.
Bert also explained how NYC water really does matter when making pizza and bagels. Pizza and bagel makers from other parts of the country have been trying to change the scientific components of their water. For instance, raising or lowering the ph, phosphorus, magnesium, etc. It’s serious business.
That is the size of a regular cheese pizza!
Bert also discussed the sauce was San Marazano tomatoes with nothing added. No garlic, salt, or pepper. They used a high-quality cheese that didn’t contain oil resulting in a slice of pizza that didn’t leave a greasy puddle behind.
Do pizzerias use cheese that contains vegetable oil? Yup! “Pizzeria” inexpensive cheese contains oil for better melting ability. That is what they use in places that serve $1 slice pies, not at good places like Joe’s. You get what you pay for.
Bert came out with a gigantic 14-cut pizza and those cheap white paper plates; pizza is always on. Before the tour, he handed me a beautiful antipasto salad; while delicious didn’t help me salivate for that pizza.
The apple and cherry blossom trees were in full bloom and were so beautiful lining the streets of the village.
Next on the tour was a sit-down stop at a taqueria named Tacombi. They are known for their authentic fish tacos, like the ones found on the beaches of Mexico, not anywhere in the US.
The weather turned nasty right after I took this photo.
The owner started selling tacos out of a VW Kombi camper in NYC and called the place Tacombi joining the two inspirations. It is a very hip and cool spot in the west village with delicious tacos.
Photo credit Tocombi.
I couldn’t have a fish taco since it’s battered and fried, but I did have one spread with flavored sweet potato and blacks beans. It was delicious, and I didn’t feel left out here.
Watermelon juice is the signature drink at Tacombi which is real watermelon juice and so good.Bert made the tour so fun and exciting because his enthusiasm was contagious. Ever wonder what’s down those stairs to the basements of NYC? Bathrooms like this one. It was clean though I will give them that.
The next stop was a standing outside stop, Faccios Italian Specialties. The group was given an arancini or rice ball and a slice of thinly sliced soppressata. I was giving a marinated freshly pulled mozzarella knots. I make arancini, so I was fine with the cheese. The soppressata was delicious and one of the meats they specialize in.
Next, we had a sit-down stop at Pesce Trattoria, which is in another ancient building with a gorgeous, original tin ceiling. Bert told us restaurants were required back in the day to have tin ceilings in case a fire broke out in the kitchen.
The meatballs were identical! Photo credit of restaurant from Pesce Trattoria.
This is where I was almost leary to eat my gluten-free meatball. It looked exactly like everyone else’s. The inside of the meatball looked like everyone else’s. I trusted them and tasted a soft and delicious meatball in a simple sauce. They sprinkled on a blend of romano and pecorino cheeses.
At every “sitting stop,” Jen and I used their bathrooms since bathrooms are hard to come by in NYC if you don’t know. It was cold and super windy so sitting in a warm restaurant felt wonderful.
We walked to our next standing stop called The Donut Project, a woman-owned business with all women employees. Being gluten-free, real donuts are hard to come by; I’m this case, my gluten-free donut trumped the real thing!
Look at the depth of those donuts! I forgot to take a side view of my donut I was so excited to eat it!
The donuts at The Donut Project come in very different flavors and toppings. My donut was huge and delicious. It was fried like a donut should be, not baked in a donut pan some places try to pull off. This was the best thing on the whole tour for me.
Jen said the donuts the group got were delicious covered in a lemon glaze, but my donut was better. How do you like those apples??
We walked to our next stop, and it didn’t seem like it could get colder or windier. We were frozen to the bone. Our sit-down stop was a Rafele. Rafele opened in 2012 when the chef from Naples even had his own pizza oven sent over.
As soon as we walked into the restaurant, I was smart and got a seat at the bar near the pizza oven to warm up. The place was very nice and the kitchen was small like most restaurant kitchens.
My eggplant parmesan was another one of those dishes I couldn’t believe was gluten-free. The chef presses the eggplant for 24 hours to get out all the water, then dips it in egg and sautés it. I am not sure if the tour’s eggplant was breaded, which it didn’t need.
Simplicity in its finest form describes the food at Rafele.
We stayed here the longest before our last standing stop at Rocco’s bakery, another west village institution. The group had mini cannolis while I was given a cup of cannoli filling and a pignoli nut cookie.
I didn’t miss the real cannoli in the least; my cup of the filling was huge. I was happy with this substitution.
After the tour was over, Jen and I got a table in Rocco’s, and each had a cappuccino. Originally, we were going to hang around for two more hours and have dinner in the village, but since we were not hungry and were freezing, we planned to head back to Jersey.
We had dinner later that night at an Indian restaurant called Nirvana. It was close to where she lived, and the food was warm and comforting after such a cold day.
The experience exceeded my expectations. The Original Food Tour Company, the tour company we used, has many other food tours in the city. I can’t wait to go on more!
I hope you got an idea of what the tour was really like. I would highly recommend taking the 3-hour tour one-day yourselves. It’s a great way to experience the history behind the real deal places and not taken to tourist traps.
When I wrote “a 3-hour tour” I automatically thought of Gilligan’s Island. LOL! 😂
Look for part two of the food and history walking tour very soon!
This is the building where the outdoor shots of the popular TV show Friends were taken. Everything else was filmed in Los Angeles, California.
This morning I got up early at Jen’s house and was on the road at 6:05 am. I pulled into our driveway at 8:55 am. The ride went quick!
I planned all along to get out of Jersey before rush hour traffic which is one of the reasons we left NJ in the first place.
Before a trip, I am always anxious, I haven’t driven down to New Jersey in a few years. Marty usually does the driving.
I left on Saturday from The Troy Farmers Market and was at Jen’s house in one hour and 45 minutes. The ride was smooth and there was hardly any traffic. Same thing this morning. Thank goodness!
Skye, my little Ford Maverick handled great. I felt safe and confident. I was able to speed up quickly if I needed to pass someone and get back over into the right lane. This was my first long drive with her and it was really awesome.
I have tons of things to write about the trip, I am trying to organize my thoughts and photos for a couple blog posts.
We had a great time together and got to do everything we wanted to including going into Greenwich Village for a walking tour, cooking together, going out to eat, drinking wine and watching Netflix.
Today, I am getting getting ready for the busy work week. Yes, I may have taken a nap too. 😉
Enjoy the rest of your day, the sun came out and it turned out to be a decent day. Yay!
***There may be some errors in this post which I apologize for, I did it on my phone and not the laptop.
Today while Marty and I were working in the production kitchen he snuck up on me and did a loud “doot-da-do ” in my ear. I was so focused on cleaning the big tilting kettle we used to cook the spätzle in to see what he was up to. I screamed, “Marty, you’re an asshole!”
Standing there behind me, he held an empty paper towel roll with a huge grin on his face. “Boy, you really jumped,” he said. “Yes, I am working, which you should be doing too.” Then, we both cracked up laughing.
If you don’t know what a doot-da-doo is, I was surprised to find the word in Urban Dictionary.
Husband- “Don’t throw away the doot-da-doo“! Wife- “What’s a doot-da-doo”? Husband- (places paper towel roll to lips) “DOOT-DA-DOO“!!! (Smiles)
Marty and I have been together since 1985 and have a lot of fun together. If either one of us finds a doot-da, do we either do what he did this morning or clunk each other over the head with it.
Klausie-boy knows exactly what a doot-da-doo is. If he sees someone with one in their hand, he will try to tackle the person. Otto knows what one is also, except he likes to dig them out of the bathroom trash cans and eat them.
Noah and Sam know all too well about doot-da-doos. Marty is a jokester and is very funny. After being with him for so long, I know when he is full of it. I tell people not to believe a word he says.
Marty likes to prank people on the phone. He used to prank his co-worker, and she was only 20 feet from him. He always used a different accent and a ridiculous story. She never knew it was him until he started laughing. Luckily for the world, it’s harder to prank people now with caller ID.
One day, he pranked our friend Martin pretending to be someone from Home Depot. Martin was waiting for carpet installers to show up to carpet his three flights of stairs and another room. Marty made up some bullshit story about why they couldn’t come and couldn’t reschedule for months. Martin started freaking out until I couldn’t stand it anymore and yelled, “Martin, it’s Marty.”
Martin thought he was the King of Pranksters until he met his match. Now the two of them try to get each other all the time. Marty’s “holy day” is April Foods Day. He’s gotten a lot of people over the years, all in good fun.
After I cleaned the kettle, I ran out of paper towels on another roll in the production side of the kitchen. I decided one doot-da-doo was enough for one day. 😉
Right after I hit publish on this post I have to pack for my sisters’ trip and get everything ready for the farmers market tomorrow morning. Martin saved the day by inviting us over for a roasted chicken dinner tonight, now I don’t have to cook and can get stuff done.
Happy Friday! I’ll catch up with you when I get back from Jersey. I will be taking lots of photos of our food and history tour of Greenwich Village and other sites in the city.
Marty and I are super excited that our farmers market, The Troy Farmers Market, will be moving back outside on May 7. The farmers’ market will be located back on “the street!” “The street” is located around Monument Square and down side streets around the square.
Before the pandemic, the farmers market had a festival-type atmosphere, with nearly 15,000 people visiting the market every Saturday. Can you imagine between 10,000 & 15,000 people visiting the market between the hours of 9-2?
It didn’t feel too crowded because the vendors are spaced perfectly. There are multiple musicians, many food vendors, areas to eat, and places to people watch. Customers also visit the shops on River and many adjacent streets.
In 2019, The Troy Farmers Market was ranked the number one farmers market in the state, region, and country. Ranked number one in the country!!! Wow!
The market did a great job making a massive pivot during the pandemic setting up the market in Riverfront Park, located right along the Hudson River. To follow protocol, vendors were spaced with vehicles in between the booths.
The market was set up with a one-direction-only traffic flow, and masks were mandatory. The market was carefully supervised. by market employees. Older customers could shop 30 minutes before the market was open to the public. The market did a fantastic making the best of a shitty situation for the last two summers.
Marty and I discussed the summer market and decided our five-year-old market setup needed an update. We needed a new tent after so much wind and weather damage. Standing under a tent that leaks is not fun…at all. Our sidewalk sign and table clothes are beat-up beyond repair.
Our setup did as many as 4 markets a week for the first two years and 3 markets for 3 years. We’ve decided we will be only doing one market from now on with a possible guest appearance at our local market if time and production allows.
Our wholesale business has grown during the pandemic, which is where we need to concentrate our attention. We love doing The Troy Market, making new customers by giving them the spätzle spiel, and connecting with our regular customers in person.
We are still as passionate as we were at our first farmers market in Arlington and still love spreading the spätzle love. ❤️
We’ve ordered a new tent and table clothes. We also purchased two new chalkboards. At Riverfront Park, each week, I made a saying of the day with chalk on the pavement of the sidewalk. People got a kick out of it, and we looked forward to it each week. Here are some of our favorites:
When the new chalkboards arrived today with regular chalk and chalk markers, I watched a few YouTube videos on chalkboard art. Did you know you have to season your chalkboard? Chalkboards are porous, so seasoning them makes the chalk easier to remove when you erase it. If you write on a chalkboard without seasoning it, it’s a son-of-a-bitch to clean. Who knew??
After I seasoned the chalkboard by lightly running the side of chalk on the whole chalkboard and then erasing it, I took the advice on the Youtube videos and practiced with my laptop. I realized quickly this it was not productive for me to do the board twice.
Seasoning the chalkboard, then it’s ready to go.
The advice I will be using is to use a measuring tape and trace lines as we had in elementary school when we were learning cursive writing. Do they even teach cursive writing anymore? I was told no but can’t believe it.
Regular chalk on the left and chalk marker on the right.
First, I used regular chalk and did a mock-up without measuring anything to get an idea of how to do it. On the other side of the chalkboard, I used a chalk marker, which came out better.
The two fails I had during my practice time were the stencils that came with the chalkboards. I got frustrated quickly and decided my handwriting was better than using those fuckers. I wasted precious time, the time I don’t have doing a mock-up on the computer first.
After you are done with your chalkboard art, you use wet and dry Q-tips to clean up the letters to make the whole thing look better, neater, and more professional. I was happy with my outcome for the first stab at it. The wording wasn’t correct, but I was only practicing.
I hated getting called on as a kid to go up to the board when I was in Catholic school. I also hated the kid in charge of writing down the names of bad kids if the nun or teacher had to step out of the room for a minute. I did love being able to go outside and bang the erasers together to clean them or wash the board with water. I do like these new chalkboards and look forward to using them.
We have four more indoor markets then it’s back out to “the street” with our new setup. Guess what? We can’t wait! ☺️
Our business is now over five years old. We’ve kept records of our invoices over the years, and I can tell you that egg prices have gone up 10-14 days before Easter every year.
Each year there is some excuse why the price of eggs doubles; this year is the bird flu. I just read a report from the government explaining the bird flu and why it is causing the prices to double. Here is the link if you are interested.
This morning, we were in the production kitchen early again since we are still climbing out from under all our orders. Then, out of nowhere, I had an anxiety attack. I was able to talk myself out of it quickly; I was in the middle of making a batch of spätzle batter and focused on that instead.
Before I started having anxiety attacks or even knew I had one, I thought it felt like you were very nervous or frightened. I was wrong.
I know seconds before an anxiety attack starts because my arms begin to tingle; then go numb. My hands start shaking, I can’t bend or straighten my fingers, and I get a pain in my chest. Then I feel like my whole body is in a vise that keeps getting tighter. Breathing becomes difficult.
Instead of panicking, which I know sounds ridiculous not to panic during a panic or anxiety attack, I try my hardest to stay calm. I begin deep breathing, focusing on something else, and tell myself to make it stop.
Today’s attack lasted less than 5 minutes. My hands are usually still a little shaky for a while, but I pushed through it. Fifteen minutes later, it was like nothing had happened, business as usual.
I now know why people think they are having a heart attack instead of an anxiety attack; many symptoms are similar. It is horrifying when it is happening. It’s hard to hide in front of people and harder for people to understand what is happening.
People say you need to “calm down and not get stressed out.” Anxiety attacks come on even when I don’t feel stressed out but have a lot on my mind.
I take anxiety and depression medication twice a day, but I’ve had more attacks during the last two years. (I can’t imagine why right?) I can go months without one, then wham! Belly dancing and meditation help me tremendously with stress and anxiety, but I don’t get to do either of them enough.
I brought up the egg price because our egg delivery man, Greg, delivered the 3 cases of eggs we ordered later this afternoon. He apologized to me the second he saw me for the price increase.
The price of eggs went from $1.40 dozen to $2.99. Thirty dozen eggs are in a case, so you do the math how much our 3 cases of eggs increased. Greg said they told him it was because of the bird flu; usually, we are told it is due to the supply and demand during Easter.
This stresses the fuck out of me because we make egg noodles. You can’t make egg noodles without eggs. I was foolish to think things may not get totally out of hand after our retail containers that nearly tripled in price and weren’t able to get for months are now back in stock again.
This afternoon I am anxious. There is such a thing as good stress and bad stress, which I am dealing with right now. I have to focus on taking care of the good stress, the stuff I have control over, and give the bad stress over to the universe or God, whichever you believe in. It works; I have to remember to do it and do it repeatedly.
This is another super busy work week with many orders to fill. I am also thinking ahead to next week since I will be then driving to my sister’s house in NJ on Saturday afternoon and not returning until Tuesday morning. I work well under pressure, so this is good stress, healthy stress, not bad like the egg situation.
Jennifer and I are having our first sisters’ only time together, which we are both very excited about. We have a lot of fun stuff planned. She has the menu, food, and wine ready to go. I know we will laugh until our cheeks hurt, watch movies, and eat delicious food. This is our relaxing, stress-free time together that I desperately need.
Mental health isn’t something that people generally like to talk about, I certainly don’t go blabbing about it often, but today was the day to share mine with you. This was hard for me to write about as a strong and confident person, but here we are.
The classic martini post that was just published isn’t showing the photos. Maybe the host site is wonky right now and it will correct itself. I apologize…
A martini may be one of the most recognizable cocktails known worldwide and are an American cocktail. A martini is a drink that oozes class and glamour. A true Hollywood drink, we have James Bond and many other movies to thank for that.
I’ve known what a martini is since I am 7 or 8 years old. My father taught me how to make one when I was around 10. My dad was a part-time bartender for a caterer and was a good teacher.
One of my parent’s martini glasses with a martini on the rocks.
I began mixing up martinis for my parents at their request. I made a damn good martini, even at 12. I knew the difference between martinis and how my parents like theirs. I was already their maid, so why not their butler too? 😂
On the rocks with feta stuffed olives and cocktail onions. Yum!
The history of the martini has a few different versions but all agree on the place of origin in Martinez, CA in the mid-1800s. The martini started as a gin-based drink with vermouth, bitters, and lemon. The vodka martini debuted in the 1950s when vodka became a popular spirit.
In 1962 James Bond ordered his martini, “Shaken not stirred.” Most people know that line from the movie but aren’t exactly sure what it means beyond the obvious. More about that later.
Like everything else, martini purists will argue until the cows come home about what makes the best martini or how to make the best martini.
A martini starts with either gin or vodka. I happen to be a vodka martini girl. Next comes the dry vermouth, an aromatized fortified wine flavored with various botanicals and sometimes colored.
Vermouth.
The amount of dry vermouth added to a martini classifies a martini as wet, dry, or extra dry. My parents liked extra-dry martinis.
The basic recipe for a classic martini starts with 3 ounces of gin or vodka. For a wet martini, 1 ounce of vermouth is added, 1/2 an ounce for a dry martini and barely wetting the ice or basically waving the bottle in the air above the glass for an extra dry one.
I used the barely wetting the ice method when I was mixing martinis for my folks. I like dry martinis myself but can drink all three, to be honest with you.
The next thing to mention is if a martini is served straight up or on the rocks. Straight up means no ice, while on the rocks means with ice. I like my martinis ice cold and straight-up, but sometimes I make one on the rocks. It all depends on what kind of mood I am in.
Now, back to whether a martini should be shaken or stirred. A martini made in a mixing glass with ice and shaken chills the drink to 5 degrees in 15 seconds. The drink is then strained into a chilled martini glass. That’s how I like mine.
Purists believe that shaking a martini is an act of blasphemy, bruising the gin or vodka. They think the drink should be made with ice in a mixing glass, stirred gently with a bar spoon, and then strained into a chilled glass. This method takes longer to chill the drink down to an acceptable temperature.
My dad’s gin he kept at our house for gin martinis. That’s how much he left in the bottle the last time he was here. I’ll never drink from it, I keep it for nostalgic purposes. He passed away in 2000.😞
Shaken or stirred can also refer to how much or fast the ice waters down the drink. Some argue that a shaken martini may be slightly cloudy, whereas a stirred one is crystal clear. In my experience, when either is poured into a chilled glass the result is cloudy when it is first made anyway.
What else to add to a martini is another cause for discussion. Purists call for a lemon peel, while others like olives or cocktail onions. The olives can be large stuffed ones with feta or bleu cheese, garlic, or jalapeño peppers. The classic is three olives on a pick. That’s my favorite, but I like all of the others too.
Whenever I make or order a martini, I ask for a dirty vodka martini straight up with three olives. What’s a dirty martini? The “dirt” comes from adding a splash of olive brine. A double dirty martini has more olive brine added.
I explained a classic martini, but there are now literally hundreds of different kinds of martinis made by mixologists today.
Here’s the next question, what is the difference between a plain old bartender and a mixologist.
In cocktail culture, the term “mixologist” refers to someone who studies the history of mixed drinks, has a rich appreciation of the ingredients and techniques used, and regularly creates new and innovative mixed drinks.
A bartender is someone who makes standard drinks and house specialties. A bartender can work quickly and manage crowds of people, whereas a mixologist works methodically in a more intimate bar environment or craft cocktail lounge. Speakeasy bars with secret entrance ways have popped up worldwide for customers looking for a complete (and expensive) bar experience.
An ice-cold martini in the dark.
Different specialty martinis include bikini, chocolate, watermelon, blood orange, chocolate, lemon, raspberry, cucumber, mint…you get the idea. Bartenders make these specialty cocktails with standard flavored spirits such as different schnapps or flavored vodkas. Did you know there is whipped cream vodka? My neighbor bought it by mistake and gave it to me; it tastes like whipped cream.
Mixologists make these specialty drinks with infused vodkas and gins, sweet and savory simple syrups, and fresh herbs. Watching a mixologist prepare these drinks is a show in itself. All the care justifies the higher price, thought, and preparation each drink takes to make; mixologists are compared to chefs.
So why in fucks name did I decide to write about martinis? Here is how my brain works…I watched season 4 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and she was drinking a straight-up martini with three olives. Yup, I had to have one. I’ve been on a martini kick these days ever since and wanted to write about them. That’s why. 😜
Cheers, my friends! Tomorrow is Monday…Let’s make it a good one!
Klaus enjoyed the warm sunshine this morning while we were working. It turned cloudy and started to rain around noon.
It’s hard to believe it’s already a week since we were on the train heading into Penn Station. While we were gone, the orders started pouring in; all of our biggest accounts placed orders.
Large orders always happen when we take a couple of days off, just like they did when we were in Vegas in September. Three years ago, we tried to get away for a couple of days in Connecticut but came home after only one day to catch up. Just for the record, this is a great thing, just a bit overwhelming for me, and is kicking my ass.
Boxes staged to be filled for deliveries.
It’s Thursday morning; I fed the dogs while Marty prepped out in the production kitchen. After today, we will have made more spätzle than we do in two weeks. Tomorrow, we still have another big production day to prepare for the farmer’s market.
My legs have been tired after walking for miles in NYC and then standing so much in the kitchen, but I was utterly exhausted after I got home last night from almost three hours of belly dance.
By the time I got groceries lugged into the house, put away, and made dinner, my legs felt like someone from the Sopranos had put cement boots on me.
After I ate, I dragged myself upstairs and got ready for bed. Usually, I have to unwind after a long day, but last night I couldn’t have been more unwound already. I needed to go to bed, period; I couldn’t get out of my own way fast enough.
Music pushed me along today in the production kitchen. The speaker is always covered in the very fine blend of flours we use, it’s inevitable just like in a bakery.
The alarm woke me from a deep sleep early this morning; I had to set it; we had a long day ahead. Production was brutal for me. BRUTAL! I felt more exhausted this morning than I did at the Amtrak Station on Friday night, which didn’t seem possible.
Spätzle making.
Somehow, I worked my way through production and cleaned up; we finished in record time because we had to hit the road to make deliveries. These were deliveries that needed to be at restaurants in time for their dinner service.
It’s 1 pm. I am in the truck with Marty; we are making deliveries to The Cooper Grouse, the restaurant in the Taconic Hotel in Manchester, VT. Tonight the new chef, Chef Dusty, is launching his new menu, and we happen to be on the menu with pork chops. ☺️
It’s always wonderful to see when local restaurants use local products from local farmers and food artisans. We live in a place that screams, “Use local,” even though most restaurants find it easier to use products from Sysco, a colossal food service company.
We are also going to HN Williams in Dorset, Southside Steakhouse in Rutland, and The Mountain Top Resort in Chittenden, where our spätzle is a popular option on their wedding reception menu. Wedding season will begin right after mud season is over.
The dining room in the bar at The Mountain Top Resort.
When we got to our last stop, The Mountain Top, we were starving. We decided to grab a late lunch there before coming home. We were the only people in the bar dining room and had a table with a fabulous view. I was tired; it was fantastic that the service was fast and the place was quiet.
The view from our table at lunch. Imagine your wedding cocktail hour on the terrace, one of the many reasons why it’s such a popular wedding venue.
It’s 5:30 pm, almost 12 hours from when I started my day. Finally, this is what I have been waiting for all-day…to put on my pajamas, make an ice-cold dirty vodka martini straight-up with 3 olives, and sit on the couch with my feet up. If I end up in bed by 8 pm, then good for me, tomorrow is another big production day.
Last Friday, we walked around Greenwich Village looking for two gluten-free places that were on my list of places to check out.
When we got to the intersection of Bleeker Street and MacDougal, we both looked to the right and saw it! Monte’s!
Monte’s Trattoria is where Marty and I had our first date back in January of 1985. I remember the day like it was yesterday.
Marty picked me up in his little white Alfa Romero. We parked his car at Metropark Train Station and jumped on an NJ Transit train. We pulled into Penn Station and walked around midtown. Christmas decorations were still up and it was cold out.
We went to the Hard Rock Cafe for an early lunch. We were seated next to the band Wang Chung, which was pretty cool. We walked over to Rockefeller Center and while we were watching the ice skaters below he kissed me. It really was one of those magical moments that happen once in a lifetime.
We were both head over heels and knew that we were meant to be together. Can you fall in love that quickly?
I decided right then and there that I needed to be my authentic self with him; I was tired of trying to act a certain way so guys would like me. Our personalities and upbringings were completely opposite, so if this was going to work, I had to be me.
Before things got too far and I let myself get hurt, I told him, “Look, I drink, I smoke, and I curse, so if you don’t like it, that’s too fucking bad.” He immediately shot back, “What are you doing tomorrow night?” 😂
We made our way downtown to walk around the “Village.” We both loved the village, and both had our favorite spots. We stopped for drinks at a few different places and ended up at Monte’s. I wasn’t familiar with it, then he led me down the stairs to the restaurant.
Photo courtesy of Monte’s.
Monte’s is a small Italian restaurant that opened in 1918. It was and still is the real fucking deal. We sat at a table for two. There was a man sitting directly behind me, alone at a two-top as well. I looked at him before I sat down. He looked businesslike and scholarly.
He was dressed well, although I couldn’t imagine why he was sitting with a winter trench coat on since it was hot in the restaurant. He wore glasses and seemed well-groomed.
As we were sipping our drinks and enjoying each course coming out of the kitchen the man was having a conversation. A loud and angry conversation at times. The Maître d’ went over several times pleading, “Senor, please, quiet down and stop cursing there are people right behind you.”
The man obviously didn’t give a shit who was around him; he had an argument to win. He must be a big-time lawyer or an NYU professor, I thought. While we were having our desserts the man got up and left. The maître d’ apologized again for the man’s rudeness.
I said to Marty, “That man must be rich to spend that much money on so many cell phone minutes.” I thought he had to be loaded to afford a cellphone back in 1985; they had only been on the market for two years.
Marty started cracking up and could barely breathe, let alone tell me what was so funny. “He wasn’t on the phone; he was talking to himself.” I was shocked, “You mean he was fucking nuts?” Marty replied, “Yes.” Sad, but very funny at the same time.
Dinner at Monte’s was one of the best dinners and nights of my life. I remember the food and desserts were excellent. Everything was made in-house; it was old-world cooking on an upscale level.
That was the last time we were in Monte’s until Friday. We were both so excited when we saw it. Marty grabbed my hand and he led me down the stairs to the restaurant.
We walked in, and the place looked just as it had 37 years ago. It wasn’t dated after all that time; it was simple elegance. The bathroom had been recently renovated, probably during the pandemic shut down.
As I recall, Monte’s bathroom could have used a renovation. It is a one-person restroom that is now gorgeous with shiny white subway tiles, a new sink, toilet, lighting, and a huge mirror. I have a thing about checking out bathrooms in places I am in; I have done it since I was a little girl. I would report back at the table what the bathroom was like. LOL!
A few diners were having a late lunch. Two guys were sitting at the corner of the small bar, and a bartender was dressed like high-end, old-school bartenders do.
The bar with the old-school cash register. There is a new POS system hidden away.
We sat at the bar and told the bartender that this was where we had our first date in ’85. He asked why we waited so long to come back. Lol! The two guys at the bar laughed at that one as well. We knew we were going to like this guy.
I had a delicious midday Bloody Mary.
We ordered a couple of cocktails and sat talking to everyone at the bar. We are bar people and always feel more comfortable sitting at a bar instead of a table. We have met many interesting people at bars over the years.
We felt welcomed and at home there; that’s the vibe the place gave us back then and now. We didn’t eat because it was midday since we were still stuffed from the curry wurst and fries.
The menu hung in the entranceway.
The chef, Chef Mosconi, came out of the kitchen to say hello. He spoke in English but spoke Italian back and forth to a patron leaving and the guys at the bar. When he heard we were from Vermont, he told us his wife went to college at St. Joseph’s in Rutland, VT. She was a teacher. Marty told him he had worked in Rutland for years.
Photo courtesy of Monte’s.
We also found out he was the chef when we were last there. He started “in the business” in ’83. He was very friendly and looked like what you would imagine an Italian chef to look like. His parents ran the restaurant beforehand; a black and white photo of them standing behind the bar is hanging up.
Photo courtesy of Monte’s.
Chef Mosconi cooks food true to his Italian roots with love; he is passionate about making different kinds of stuffed pasta.
The walls in Monte’s are full of celebrities that have dined at Monte’s over the years. There are photos of currently famous people and all the biggies like Sinatra who frequented the place.
Monte’s is a neighborhood institution. It is on a food and history walking tour of Greenwich village. A tour group came into the restaurant while we were there. Ironically, I am going on a similar walking tour with my sister Jennifer in a couple of weeks. This had been planned long before Marty and I even knew would be in the city for Hamilton. I spoke with the tour guide, who may be my tour guide.
The food tour group was enjoying a glass of red wine and a small bowl of pasta.
We finished our drinks and paid the tab. We thanked everyone and said our goodbyes. The bartender told us not to wait so long to come back. We all laughed.
I told him the one thing I learned during the pandemic is you don’t get time back and don’t know how long you have. You have to do things and live life. You can’t keep on waiting as we did. I snapped a few photos and whispered to the restaurant, “We will be back soon.”
Besides Hamilton, this was the highlight of the trip for me. I still felt like a young girl with this funny and handsome guy. I never imagined that night we would be back 37 years later. That’s Amore! 😍
