Livin’ in New York City Post 6: You Can’t Eat This Soup Standing Up, Your Knees Buckle
The Museum of Natural History has been one of my most desired locations in New York City. Being able to see the exhibits and learn about different human cultures was fascinating.
While I have had a great time learning the ropes of being a barista, the LIC Corner Café is currently on hiatus for one week which gave me an opportunity to explore more locations of the city in my free time.
After working my first full shift of brewing macchiatos and baking focaccia, I decided to venture towards Central Park West to visit a place I’ve fantasized about since I was six. Ever since I saw the film “Night at the Museum” and its two sequels, I’ve wanted to visit the Museum of Natural History and see all that it has to offer.
Since I arrived at 4 p.m. and the museum closed at 5:30 p.m., I only had an hour-and-a-half to explore the exhibits. The museum is focused on the evolution of all life on Earth including people from around the world. Among the best exhibits were ones that focused on different Native American peoples, the societies of Africa and the different customs of Pacific Island nations.
While it was a very informative experience, I felt that an hour-and-a-half was too little time. If you go to this museum, it should be a day-long excursion. Don’t just let your visit to New York be about going to Times Square or the wax museum. Try learning something while you’re here.
A few days later, in my quest to step foot on every square inch of the city, I went to the famous Little Italy neighborhood. While Little Italy has been a staple of New York for the 20th and 21st centuries, it has shrunk significantly. However, what’s left is still a vibrant place of culture and authenticity which is what I love about New York. The best parts of the city are the most authentic whether it be the “touristy” places like The Statue of Liberty and The Empire State Building or more local spots like the neighborhood pizzeria or the corner bodega.
In Little Italy, there were restaurants, delis, bakeries, boutiques and shops all up and down the streets selling authentic Italian goods. The neighborhood was bustling with action as tourists and residents alike contributed to the commerce. While there, I was able to get some kitchen supplies from a lovely Italian couple. They were a bit hard of hearing so they constantly shouted at each other. It was kind of like being at a family gathering after everyone’s had a few drinks. It’s not emotional yelling, but everyone’s volume knob gets turned to 11.
Amongst my loot were wooden spoons because not enough modern kitchens have them. Seriously, what happened to the wooden spoons? My mom has wooden spoons, my grandparents have wooden spoons. Something’s missing! Did millennials and Gen Z get together and just take a vote. No one told me. I’m bringing wooden spoons back to the kitchen. If you’re under 30 and your kitchen is without at least three wooden spoons, you may be entitled to financial compensation. And you should use that compensation to get some wooden spoons.
Following my small shopping venture, I went to the neighborhood of NoLita (North of Little Italy) to the famous Lombardi’s. Since it was the first pizzeria opened in America in 1905, there was a lot of buildup to this pizza and it did not disappoint. My appetizer of bruschetta was perfect with a robust tomato spread and an amazing crunch to the bread. As for the pizza (pepperoni and sausage), it might be one of the best pizzas I’ve ever had. Keep in mind, I’ve been eating a fair amount of New York pizza so that’s saying something. The sausage in particular was hearty since it’s made on location by the staff. If you want to treat yourself and your family to a truly authentic Italian institution, Lombardi’s is it.
Lombardi’s Pizza is easily some of the best pizza I’ve ever eaten with excellent crust, a bold sauce and their own homemade sausage.
And just a few minutes away, at 153 Elizabeth St., was the childhood home of filmmaker Martin Scorsese which I had to visit. The apartment building appears to still be relatively untouched by tacky, modern upscaling but that’s just judging by the outside since breaking and entering is still illegal. Not only was this Marty’s childhood home, this was the home his parents (Charles and Catherine) built together. In 1974, Marty made a documentary film about his parents and their Italian heritage in the classic film “Italianamerican” which puts the apartment on full display.
While I loved Little Italy, the fact that it’s been shrinking is a bit disheartening. However, I have a solution. First, you find every New York gangster directly related to the Mafia that’s imprisoned. You let them all out. You give them a bunch of money. You tell them that if you them out, they have to stop all crime and instead devote their ingenuity and energy towards enlarging Little Italy. It’s time for the Italians to take back NoLita, SoHo and all those I Heart NYC Shops. Seriously, there were about 15 of those stores in Little Italy. How many of places do you need to get an I Heart NYC t-shirt? Let’s see how those bougie, rich hipsters and influencers feel when gentrification hits them. Thus, I have solved organized crime and the gentrification of Little Italy at the same time.
Mayor Eric Adams, hire me! I also have a good idea on how to increase tourism. We have our own Running of the Bulls but, instead of cattle, we use sewer gators. And we broadcast the whole thing on HBO so see all the carnage with no censorship. We already like violent activities like boxing, football and hockey so why hold back?
After a fairly exciting weekend, I ventured into the Ridgewood neighborhood of Brooklyn for a concert from Chest Fever in the Sultan Room of the Turk’s Inn. The group is a tribute act for The Band. If you know anything about me, I absolutely love The Band. I own most of their albums and I adore the concert film “The Last Waltz.” One day, I plan to venture to Woodstock, NY where they lived while making their first five albums. I would say The Band is probably the greatest American/Canadian band.
What I love about The Band is the fact that they weren’t flashy and just had this earthiness to them. Plus, they essentially combined all genres of popular music: country, rhythm and blues, jazz, folk, early rock and gospel into a unique style. Literally anyone can get into this music.
As for the concert, Chest Fever was a great band. It was wonderful to hear this music live and with a horn section. There was also a good opening act, guitarist Rachel Ana Dobken, who played some fun original compositions. But when the band took the stage, it was magic. Before I even got inside the club, a few older hippies of the Woodstock generation lit up a couple of joints which is fine with me. This is their music, they’ve earned it. The Sultan Room was a very intimate club with about 60 of us in attendance and we all partied. But it was a spiritual kind of celebration with an atmosphere of fun and peace. Even the people that got drunk were pretty enjoyable to be around. They just loved the music.
We all had some drinks, got loosened up and had a pretty good time. When it comes to drinking at concerts or social gatherings, I try to be pretty conservative. I want to stay completely in control of my actions, to be aware of what’s going on and to not giggle like an idiot. However, I do want to loosen up a bit. For me, that was two spiked seltzers spaced out for 45 minutes. When you go to any gathering with alcohol, it’s best not to push your luck.
The music was spectacular with the band performing all of the hits: “The Weight,” “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” “I Shall Be Released,” “Up On Cripple Creek” and so many more. The concert also closed out with a few Bob Dylan songs, since The Band was Bob Dylan’s backing band for his first rock tour, and local guitarist Tash Neal filling in for Dylan’s guitar and vocal parts. When I got home my throat felt so sore and that was because I sang so loud. It doesn’t sound loud when the music is so deafening and you have a chorus of 60 other people.
As my throat healed, I decided to venture into Manhattan for something truly soothing: soup. But not just any soup. Soup from The Original Soup Kitchen on 55th Street. The restaurant is not only famous for soup but it also was the basis for one of my favorite episodes of one of my favorite shows of all time: “Seinfeld.”
The Original Soup Kitchen at 55th Street is famous for its great soups and for being the inspiration for a certain ill-tempered chef in “Seinfeld.”
For those who don’t know, there’s a famous episode of the series called “The Soup Nazi” where Jerry Seinfeld and his friends become obsessed with the best soup in the city. However, the man who runs the place is the titular Soup Nazi (Larry Thomas) who is incredibly tempermental about the ordering procedure. If you don’t order the soup right or are rude or annoying, he shouts “no soup for you” and you don’t get the soup. If only more restaurants were like that. Karens wouldn’t have a prayer.
What’s even funnier is that the Soup Nazi character is based on a real person, the guy who used to own the Original Soup Kitchen. A few weeks after the episode aired, Jerry Seinfeld, Larry David and a few of the show’s writers went to the Original Soup Kitchen and the owner yelled at them for “ruining his business” even though consumer interest in the restaurant increased. Seinfeld gave a pretty insincere apology and the owner yelled “No Soup For You!”
So, when I went to the soup stand, I took no chances. I had my money ready. I glanced at the menu for five seconds, ordered my Chicken Dumpling soup and quickly got it. However, the staff were very friendly. Perhaps the Nazi regime has loosened its grip.
The thing about the restaurant is that there’s no seating. It’s basically a hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a large kitchen devoted to soup crafting. You take the soup and you go. It’s a model of efficiency. But where would I sit to enjoy my soup? Should I go to Times Square? Not even if there was La-Z-Boy that felt like a cloud in the middle of it. However, down the street there was a flat top fire hydrant that was perfect for sitting on. I proceeded to eat my meal and thank God I wasn’t standing. Because this soup was so good that your knees will buckle. I even got bread. “Seinfeld” fans will know what that means. And for those of you who are asking “why would you go into the city for soup when you could warm up a can of Campbells,” I just have one thing to say to you when you come to the city. “No Soup For You. NEXT!”
