Friday, December 25, 2009

A Christmas story

It’s almost out-of-body walking the deserted streets of Brooklyn on Christmas morning. There is no traffic. The city is silent. Melting snow drops from the trees, the intersections are slushy and icy, and salt crystals on the sidewalk gather in tiny pockets. I’ve got to carefully maneuver Molly so she doesn’t burn her paws. I turn left on State Street and head over to the corner deli. I’m here every day for a Red Bull and a newspaper. I carry Molly in my arms. Lately, we’ve been accosted by a life size dancing Santa who stands in front of the store: “Ho, ho, ho. This is going to be the merriest Christmas ever!” This guy scares me, he seriously does. But the store is gated and locked. No Frankie, no Mario, no Sergio, and no Santa.

I hear nothing but the distant roar of traffic on the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. I find a bodega open on Atlantic Avenue, but its cold comfort. I walk Molly home, and decide to go to Teresa’s and treat myself to a big Polish breakfast. But of course it is closed. Once my brother and I decided to have a real Polish feast on Easter Sunday in Greenpoint--- a neighborhood in Brooklyn that is mecca to recent émigrés. We got lost in Williamsburg, but finally found the neighborhood. Every single restaurant and shop was shuttered. We ended up having Mexican. Apparently Polish émigrés do not work on Christmas either.

Then I thought of a Ziggy’s on Henry Street, a whole foods café where the pancakes are likely to be made with buckwheat and millet, served with fresh Vermont maple syrup and organic coffee. I walk south, the looming arch of the Manhattan Bridge before me, the trees bare, the sky still gray, a cold wind coming off the East River. Still no people. A panic attack looms at the edge of my brain. The day doesn’t feel real. I think, “Get yourself a cup of coffee surely the shit diner on Montague is open.” I walk into a deli but the coffee is self-serve and looks a week old. I walk north again and see a minister get out of his black Mercedes in front of the Lutheran Church on Henry. He looks at me oddly--- “What is that woman doing out on the street on Christmas morning?” And I would answer, “Sir. I don’t really know.”

The shit diner is closed. My fall back is Starbucks. It’s open. It’s a corporation. I can at least get a cup of good coffee. But I find another shit diner, shittier than the one on Montague. I remembered a New Year’s morning, five a.m. Cheeseburger and coffee and heartburn after a night’s revel in Manhattan. I walk in the door and immediately feel normal again. The waiter is about eighty years old and half his teeth are missing. Excellent. My sister has just called, but he glares at me, “You ordering?” Yikes. I tell her, “I’ll call you later.” I order bacon, eggs, pancakes and coffee. It arrives 60 seconds later. The bacon is suspicious. As if it was cooked last week and then reconstituted. The pancakes are slightly burnt, and the eggs are runny. But I pour maple syrup over everything and it is delicious.

I don’t believe I have ever been in my neighborhood, in Brooklyn, on Christmas. I am always somewhere else; San Francisco, South Florida, the Midwest, upstate New York or elsewhere in the city--- East Village, Upper East Side, West Village, Chelsea. One Christmas my girlfriends and I wandered into a bar in Soho and flirted with an entire Italian soccer team. Last Christmas Eve, I walked through a redwood forest on the west coast with my pregnant sister. One year I went ice-skating down at Chelsea piers, then had dim sum in Chinatown. This year I opted out. This year I would spend it at home. After breakfast I walk into my foyer and find a Christmas card from my brother; it is a picture of his three sons. Yesterday two packages arrived from my two sisters; both sent me pajamas. Thank you. Gracias. Merci.

Christmas morning in Brooklyn is an island. Time, for the moment, is suspended. It’s almost like jet lag--- I am out of sync with the rest of the world. Even Butch, who sits on the corner stoop, knows everyone, and tells stories about life in Attica to anyone who will listen, is missing. The dog run is deserted. Snow still clings to the roofs of the townhouses, my neighbor has a miniature crèche on her tiny front porch, rows and rows of Christmas trees still line Court Street and Atlantic Avenue. But I am still the only person out on the streets. It’s warmer today. A new year is about to begin.


  1. An excellent restaurant to hang out!!

    Ok...I know I am a foodie and have travelled quite a bit and been to lot many places but the one city which is always an extension of mine is undoubtedly New York. I am proud to wear my Nike NY cap and cheer my Basketball team without fail. I have been to almost all the food joints, restaurants, pubs and bars located in Manhattan and I must say they all are pretty good considering this age of twittering and Face book wherein if you fail once your name pops up on all the social networking websites with negative comments. This is a welcome change becoz ultimately we the customers become the king as shoddy service or bad quality food can easily land the owners into trouble.

    But the one place which has succeeded in amazing me is the newly refurbished Restaurant named Point Break. Formerly named as Nation Restaurant & Bar, Point Break is a new Surf Bar located in the heart of mid-town Manhattan. Now I remember sometime back I had been to this place when it had the old look and feel and I thought ok..seems to be an average place..what's the big deal? But even during my last visit when it was still in its old shape it served me excellent food and the service was razor sharp. So last Saturday when one of my friend threw a party and told me the venue to be a swanky new outlet which he was speaking so highly about I thought ok..let's try this one too. When he told me about the address I wasn't sure it was the same place but when I reached there the whole look and feel from Outside was changed and once I entered in, the earlier known Nation was truly looking like a break from the past and hats off this guy, I don't remember the name of the owner, but he has rightly renamed it as Point Break!! It appeals to the newer generation guys like me. We had a great time there. The menu featured old classics and new additions. I loved the wheel o' shots which made me crazy!! I had the fish tacos which was delicious..yummeee and it has got plenty of room for parties, the DJ that they had was great, excellent sound system as well and the drinks were strong and I had a look at the menu and thought the prices were pretty good.

    Guys on top of it the next day when I searched this place on the internet, this restaurant has a Face book page too wherein they post photos and updates of recent happenings/parties and upcoming events/parties/offers too. They tweet also which is really nice thinking by the owner.

    Anyways not wanting to sound like a paid blogger I would say as a foodie this restaurant is a nice one and I would not hesitate to give my recommendation for it to my guests coming in from out of town. Go and try once and do not hesitate to leave a comment once you are there. I know I am only going to get thumbs up from you all!!!


    John Smith, NYC

  2. Christmas for those who opt out is really like jet lag. That's a great way of putting it. We've been opting out for a long time - movie, Chinese, but this year, we did cyber holidays via Skype. It was a good compromise.

    Happy Holidays, LA!

  3. Lisa, Yes, very enjoyable in its own weird way. Must try Skype next year. Happy holidays to you as well

  4. Great reading. I agree - would rather have a waiter with no teeth and suspect meat products than eat at a Corporate Joint. I tend to skip bacon at any diner I haven't eaten at before - too spoiled by the killer bacon we get from the butcher shop across the street from our store.