Homesick?

I love New Orleans, but I’ve been missing New York a lot over the past year. Perhaps I have the best of both worlds, though. I get to visit New York when I have the time (except during the months of January, February and March. I don’t miss those NY winters at all) and I get to live in a much more affordable city (any city with the exception of San Francisco and perhaps LA is more affordable), one that I love equally to my birthplace. I don’t take this for granted.

But, homesickness isn’t always a rational thought. I was back in New York last month and I’m going back next week for a few days and already I’m thinking ahead to when I can visit again. It’s just that I find myself yearning for weird things that I can’t have here and they aren’t even that big of a deal, just things that seem silly but are meaningful to me. Like I am missing fucking subway stops! What the hell? Nostalgia is for maudlin wimps, right?

I was looking through photos of my trip last month. There weren’t a ton of photos, but the ones I did take (other than food), were all significant to me, due to the memories they hold for me. Like the lower Manhattan skyline viewed from a boat. This last time, though, I wasn’t taking the free Staten Island ferry, but via a vintage schooner ride.

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That view, tho…

Sights that bring me back to childhood. One of my earliest memories is of trying to see the tops of skyscrapers from the backseat of my parents’ car.

Here, I spy the Mid-Century Modern TWA Terminal as I wait for my Lyft at T5. This is my welcome home and just looking at this photo makes me happy.

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I’ve never wanted to stay in one of those seemingly dreary airport hotels before but damn… I might have to make an exception for this one!

Nothing like getting caught in Central Park in a thunderstorm. We waited it out in the Loeb Boathouse. I can’t think of a better place! More idyllic views.

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I took so much for granted when I lived in NYC, like excellent vegan food at every turn (delivered to your door, if you so desire!) Now feast your eyes on my new obsession, The Impossible Burger.

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Such a momentous occasion deserves some video, doncha think?

Please forgive the lousy quality and lack of landscape shooting (not to mention the close-ups!) This was originally an Instagram story.

Side note: While the other scarily realistic vegan burger (Beyond Burger) is far more accessible (and sold in grocery stores), I much prefer the Impossible Burger. For starters, you can get them well done. If you try to make Beyond Burgers well done, you can ruin them. Then there is the thoroughly disgusting smell of Beyond Burgers. It’s just hard to get past! When I bit into the Impossible Burger, I was reminded of those days long ago, as a child, when I’d get well done burgers at steakhouses . While I never thought I actually missed that experience, with just a couple bites, I was feeling strangely nostalgic.

Serious late night roams through the East Village. Ducking into basement bars, because, the allure of the subterranean lair… You feel like you’ve stumbled on a thrillingly illicit secret. For obvious reasons, they do not exist in New Orleans.

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Sake Bar Decibel

We like to do progressive dining and drinking (a fancy way of saying that we don’t stop eating) until way past the witching hour.

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Nothing like a tofu steak at Midnight (Stanton Social)

Long Island. The place I swore I’d never appreciate, but funny what 8 years away will do to you. Who knew that I’d be able to get a decent vegan slice until four am, just five minutes from my parents’ house? Or that I’d be able to relive my childhood with vegan versions of all of the Italian American classics that I cut my teeth on?

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Vegan pizza with sausage, cheese & olives at 3 Brother’s in Farmingdale

Waves. Real beaches. I never knew I’d miss the beach, but I guess growing up five minutes from one, means its influence is strong. During those 27 months spent in the Midwest, I hallucinated seagulls more than once. I guess I didn’t save my Insta-story, but we did have a day where we walked the boardwalk at Long Beach.

I’ll be back at my “other home,” in a week, a few days sandwiched between work trips to Toronto and San Francisco. Away from NOLA for 10 days? I have no doubt I’ll be yearning for sunset boat trips through the swamp… humid breezes carrying the scents of jasmine and brackish water to me as I write on my porch late at night and – well, maybe I just need to write all that down when I’m away from here because nostalgia is more palpable when you’re far far away.

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