NYC

We went to NYC last week for our annual family dinner and overnight. The planning consists of my sister and I researching thousands of restaurants two weeks before, filtering out everyone's likes and dislikes in the way of food (which takes about as long as a Tarantino take is Inglorious Bastards) and praying we get in somewhere for eight people on a Saturday night.

It all ended pleasantly, and we not only had a great meal, but we got a peep show, and

Tracey ended up with a pair of $25 pasties for her birthday. Don't say I never gave you anything good Tra! Yes, the restaurant we chose had a burlesque show at 11:00. The girls were singing and dancing, and my brother was drooling. It was quite a show all around!

Before all the song and dance we had an amazing day full of sadness, culture shock and agita, me draining my bank account, a spotting of Sigourney Weaver, and of course lots of drinks.

We started the day with my parents (who drove up with me to meet up with Trent who was already in the city for work on Friday). We roamed the financial district for a breakfast place open on the weekend (Wall Street tends to shut down on the weekends). Most places were actually open, but we had the luxury of nothing being crowded. We went to this place for breakfast sandwiches but they also had a full-on buffet of Mexican, Italian, and Chinese food all ready for inhaling at 9:00 a.m. It was strangely

appetizing and gross at the same time.

The place seemed pretty decent until we headed upstairs where the tables were. It was obvious this place was open late the night before, because there were empties all over the astroturf floor. The tables were all coated with food leftovers and perhaps fat from chicken, I couldn't quite place it. The walls were covered with thin tree logs where people signed their names. I don't know why I didn't sign. I could have left my mark there forever. Something like "Jen Rules" or "For a good time call 443.756.5169" one of the old faves we all love. The dining area definitely skeaved us all a bit, but I did enjoy pointing out the typos on the signs on the buildings across the street like, "All suit cheaper then department store prices" (fyi there are two errors in that message, I'll let you all figure it out).

From there we moved on to Ground Zero. Unfortunately, we were there too early to get a guided tour by someone directly linked to 9/11. So, we took the audio tour which was still very good. The whole experience was very chilling, and I wept several times thinking about what had occurred, and the stories people shared in the audio. The funny thing was, we all had our own headsets, and each of us started them at different times. So, I would be crying about something, and I would look at my Mom or Dad,

and I could tell when they heard the same thing because they would well up as well. Trent's dead inside, so he kept it all in.

I haven't been to GZ since 9/11, so it was the first time I could see the massive void that was left by the towers and surrounding promenade. If you haven't had a chance to get there yet, you should, just to see it. They are building a huge new

project complete with a new 70 story building, park, and remembrance fountain as well as mixed retail and a new visitor's center. So, the view of what we saw will

quickly vanish. I included pics from my phone of the site, the surrounding buildings, and the inside of the building where we stared at the site head-on.

Trent is pictured here pondering. Quite nice I think.

The visitor's center is amazing. As small as it is, is really has incredible pictures, stories, and accounts of those affecting by the event.

What happened next in our day can only be described as complete madness. We decided, when in New York, have dim sum. We asked the concierge for a really good place, and he told us about Jing Fong right off Canal Street in Chinatown. It's a maze to get there, and as soon as we hopped out of the cab, the mayhem ensued. At least a hundred people were huddling the entrance of this place at 11:30 in the morning. We entered a huge lobby with two escalators leading to the main dining room. There are three girls at a podium taking names. For the first time, having a party of eight worked to our advantage. People with small parties weren't even getting seated (yet). Apparently, they need to seat larger parties first, so the people with two and four just get added to those tables. So, if you don't like sitting with strangers, don't go to this place. There are no tables smaller than eight. After we get our number, we are asked to leave the podium immediately and wait outside. This is about when we realized we were white. Everyone who was Chinese knew what to do. Everyone who was white did not--except those lame people who think they're cool because they know what to do (which will be me next time). Even though we had a number, it wasn't called. We noticed other people going in, and going up. So, we eventually took the initiative and went back into the volatile lobby. As soon as we walked in, she took our number and we were ushered onto the escalators.

What we saw at the top cannot be accurately depicted in pictures, although I provided them. The link to Yelp above does show pics of JF, but again they do not do the enormity of this restaurant justice. Picture 2,000 people packed into a cheesy banquet hall with the noise level comparable to a U2 concert where everyone is singing to every song. Again, this is at 11:30 a.m. Every table is full, and there are people everywhere. When you walk in, just to the left is a guy in a cheap beige suit sitting at a paper and glitter-adorned table answering the phone.

The sign on the table says "event planner" I can't imagine having an event at this place. You'd have to invite everyone you've ever known. The event planner is located literally in the middle of the dining room. I guess if you meat with him, you're just in the mix of the caos during your visit. I'm pretty sure this guy would be there during your event too, so if that's not your bag, book the Waldorf.

Ok, on to the table. We are loosely following a girl through the room. By that I mean, she gives us no indication that she's leading us, and we start getting lost in the crowd, and she stops for a moment at a table and carries on, so we just assume it's ours. We haven't even taken off our coats, and someone rolls onto the scene with a cart with all of her treasures. We weren't expecting this to occur so quickly. Flustered, I start saying yes to whatever she holds up. As you can assume, none of us speak Chinese. We're talking to her in English, she's talking to us in Chinese, and no one knows what anyone wants from each other. So, we just take some stuff. The next few carts have stuff that seems familiar, and lucky for us, these women have key words on their tongues like "pork" and chicken feet" so we can start to decipher what we should be saying yes to. The cartilage-a-plenty cold pork off the first cart almost made me throw-up in my mouth, so I'm glad we started pausing and assessing the food before we took it. The thing is, every woman had about eight to ten things on her cart, some of the dim sum wrappers looks the same so you don't always know by looking at it what it is. Plus, there are desserts and other crap on the carts as well, so you're not even really sure what part of the meal you're eating.

After a few scary plates, we started also noticing people walking around with big helpings of kale and clams and such. It took us a good 20 minutes to see that there was a buffet of sorts at the other end of the hall. Tracey and I headed down to explore. Most of it was assorted sea life with suckers that we avoided for the table, but it also had some yummy dumplings, clams, and the greens! This was also difficult because the women were all yelling at us, kind of like Americans do to everyone in other countries, so I guess it ain't just us. However, the louder

they got, the more confused we got, so we just handed them the card, and that was the universal agreement that some type of transaction was being made. For those who don't know how dim sum works: they come around with these steamy carts with the food, you pick what you want, and they stamp a card that shows what you've ordered.

The women pictured to the left were unpacking their fake LV purses at the table and stuffing their leftovers in them. WTH?

All in all, we held our own, but it was extremely stressful, and frankly we ate so fast I can hardly remember what we actually had. The table got exhausted pretty quickly and our collective steam ran out three or four carts into it. It's like going to a Melting Pot for fondue. You start out dipping every veggie and piece of meat into the broth and savoring it; by the end you're dumping the whole plate of stuff in there just to finish it off.

I liked the food, but Trent said, "I think it's pretty safe to say I would never come here again."

I think his face on the escalator ride down says it all, don't you?

Stay tuned for Part II of the NYC experience...