Welcome Back!
There is something special about returning to a place of familiarity ~ your hometown after a long absence, a favorite restaurant, or a vacation spot that you have been to time and time again ~that feeling of welcome; that recognizable air; the ease of just being there and knowing that good things will soon follow.
To our surprise, my younger brother moved to Texas almost five years ago. Before that he had just returned to live in New York City with his family from Lexington, Kentucky. My sisters and I were so thrilled to have him near us again...just like old times. However, he only lasted about two years before he picked up and left; he wanted to find himself and was looking for a place to carve out a comfortable living for his family of four. This is not to say that he was no longer in love with New York...he just had to leave her for a while. "I'll be back when Jessica enters college, " he promised (Jessica will hopefully apply to NYU in two years and then my brother will be a New Yorker again.)But like the old saying, once a New Yorker, always a New Yorker...my brother is exhilarated every time he comes back up here for a visit. The minute he lands at any of the three tri-state area airports; the moment the New York skyline comes into view from whichever direction he happened to be - the Queens Midtown tunnel; the Lincoln Tunnel approach in Jersey City...anywhere. He takes in a deep breath and sighs happily at the thought of HOME AT LAST!
Take for instance also Chao Chow, our Chinatown noodle joint, and me. I was the first one in my family to have set foot in there back in 1983 when I was 16 years old. The cousin of the guy that I was supposedly promised to had come from Staten Island to meet my family and me. His family wanted to take me to dinner to get to know me better and that was how I discovered Chao Chow. Located at 111 Mott Street, the restaurant was very casual and nondescript. It was a little late in the evening when we got there and so the restaurant was practically empty. His family did the ordering as I waited with doubt and hesitation for the food to arrive. Piping hot bowls of egg noodle soups with amazing wontons, special soy sauce roasted duck, and a huge flounder that had been poached to perfection under a mound of scallion and ginger made their way to our tiny table. we ate with joy and appreciation, elbowing at each other to get at the delicious morsels of food, not realizing that while huddled up in the steamy little restaurant, a fast friendship was being carved and the foundation for love of Chao Chow was laid out. I have been a regular ever since and have brought practically everyone I know to dine there when we were living in the City.
After we were married at City Hall on February 23, 1988, my two girlfriends who witnessed our marriage and my husband and me scurried over to Chao Chow for lunch. We would eat there maybe three times a week before we had kids; ate there before giving birth to each of our three babies, and since have taken our kids there to eat whenever we happened to be in the area and wanted the best noodle soups. The headwaiter who took my order 24 years ago still stands in charge now...it is always like coming home when we walk in and he calls out each of my children's name and welcomes us to an available table.
Our boys were on winter break this week. At the last minute, I booked three nights for our family at the Skytop Lodge in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. Our friend loves it and has been going with her family for years. As our car made its way up the winding road and approached the large stone structure that is the main lodge, our eyes lit and marveled at its sight. It was chilly; the doormen were sporting long thick green overcoats, escorting people and luggage out of and into vehicles with confidence and agility- it was like a scene from bygone days.
There we stayed and played and skied and sledded and tobogganed and dined and swam and hiked and laughed and shuttled back and forth, all the while wishing we didn't have to leave and knowing we will come back to do the same things over and over again with our kids. On the afternoon of our departure, big fluffy snowflakes fell all around us giving a beautiful white coat to the scenery, adding to the charm as we sipped our final tea there in the Pine Room. The doorman waved goodbye and said please come back.
There are some places that we have returned to year after year and season after season. It is difficult to explain how we connect with a place in our heart, but there is definitely an unspoken beauty and truth that beckon us to feel the way we
do- an inseparable intimacy, a hand in glove sort of sentiment. From Texas to New York, Japan to Westport, or Maui to Pennsylvania and Maine....Vietnam and back...it is that feeling of belonging, warmth, and comfort that welcomes us back each time and make us feel as though we are whole again and just happy to BE!
To our surprise, my younger brother moved to Texas almost five years ago. Before that he had just returned to live in New York City with his family from Lexington, Kentucky. My sisters and I were so thrilled to have him near us again...just like old times. However, he only lasted about two years before he picked up and left; he wanted to find himself and was looking for a place to carve out a comfortable living for his family of four. This is not to say that he was no longer in love with New York...he just had to leave her for a while. "I'll be back when Jessica enters college, " he promised (Jessica will hopefully apply to NYU in two years and then my brother will be a New Yorker again.)But like the old saying, once a New Yorker, always a New Yorker...my brother is exhilarated every time he comes back up here for a visit. The minute he lands at any of the three tri-state area airports; the moment the New York skyline comes into view from whichever direction he happened to be - the Queens Midtown tunnel; the Lincoln Tunnel approach in Jersey City...anywhere. He takes in a deep breath and sighs happily at the thought of HOME AT LAST!
Take for instance also Chao Chow, our Chinatown noodle joint, and me. I was the first one in my family to have set foot in there back in 1983 when I was 16 years old. The cousin of the guy that I was supposedly promised to had come from Staten Island to meet my family and me. His family wanted to take me to dinner to get to know me better and that was how I discovered Chao Chow. Located at 111 Mott Street, the restaurant was very casual and nondescript. It was a little late in the evening when we got there and so the restaurant was practically empty. His family did the ordering as I waited with doubt and hesitation for the food to arrive. Piping hot bowls of egg noodle soups with amazing wontons, special soy sauce roasted duck, and a huge flounder that had been poached to perfection under a mound of scallion and ginger made their way to our tiny table. we ate with joy and appreciation, elbowing at each other to get at the delicious morsels of food, not realizing that while huddled up in the steamy little restaurant, a fast friendship was being carved and the foundation for love of Chao Chow was laid out. I have been a regular ever since and have brought practically everyone I know to dine there when we were living in the City.
After we were married at City Hall on February 23, 1988, my two girlfriends who witnessed our marriage and my husband and me scurried over to Chao Chow for lunch. We would eat there maybe three times a week before we had kids; ate there before giving birth to each of our three babies, and since have taken our kids there to eat whenever we happened to be in the area and wanted the best noodle soups. The headwaiter who took my order 24 years ago still stands in charge now...it is always like coming home when we walk in and he calls out each of my children's name and welcomes us to an available table.
Our boys were on winter break this week. At the last minute, I booked three nights for our family at the Skytop Lodge in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. Our friend loves it and has been going with her family for years. As our car made its way up the winding road and approached the large stone structure that is the main lodge, our eyes lit and marveled at its sight. It was chilly; the doormen were sporting long thick green overcoats, escorting people and luggage out of and into vehicles with confidence and agility- it was like a scene from bygone days.
There we stayed and played and skied and sledded and tobogganed and dined and swam and hiked and laughed and shuttled back and forth, all the while wishing we didn't have to leave and knowing we will come back to do the same things over and over again with our kids. On the afternoon of our departure, big fluffy snowflakes fell all around us giving a beautiful white coat to the scenery, adding to the charm as we sipped our final tea there in the Pine Room. The doorman waved goodbye and said please come back.
There are some places that we have returned to year after year and season after season. It is difficult to explain how we connect with a place in our heart, but there is definitely an unspoken beauty and truth that beckon us to feel the way we
do- an inseparable intimacy, a hand in glove sort of sentiment. From Texas to New York, Japan to Westport, or Maui to Pennsylvania and Maine....Vietnam and back...it is that feeling of belonging, warmth, and comfort that welcomes us back each time and make us feel as though we are whole again and just happy to BE!
posted by cream cheese dreams at 11:12 PM
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