may 2025 - Wanderlogue

05.2025

May often feels like the longest month. A month that drags on. That has many lives. That refuses to end. The tease of spring. Decidedly warmer and yet, not with the relief that summer brings. This May felt divided. A blurred week with LA looming ahead. A week on the west coast. A week of hosting in New York. A week of exhaustion. A few days sprinkled in between. Capped with a rather uneventful Memorial Day weekend in Brooklyn.

May was a month of broken routines. The days felt frenzied, blurred. I saw more of the city than I have in perhaps a year. Certainly ate at more restaurants than I have in a year. May was an end and a beginning and a slide into the strange in-between of summer.

playing tourist

It’s stressful to host tourists in New York City. Especially ones that traveled halfway around the world. Especially ones that haven’t been here in two decades. Especially because I love this crazy city and desperately want others to as well.

Plotting out days in New York was an exercise for my mental maps. Itineraries were mapped out geographically. By neighborhood and borough yes, but also with the MTA map ingrained in my mind. And layered with a map of my restaurant lists. Filtered for compatibility for its audience.

In many ways, I’d spent the last 5 years planning this week for New York. Mental notes stowed away to be recalled and outlined in a detailed Google Doc to be meticulously edited to optimize weather.

And so I retraced old steps. From the West Village to Williamsburg. From the Met to the Whitney. From Balthazar to L’Industrie. From Washington Square to Prospect Park. Even a ferry ride and back to Staten Island. And more time spent downtown than ever. Which is saying something considering I am obligated to go there four days a week.

In many ways, I needed this. To reorient myself to the city I had barely seen the past few years. To break routine. To run around the city with purposeful leisure. To see the city through foreign eyes. The greatest hits, edited down. Packed in. Hyped up. To remind myself I’m not quite done with this city.

So many meals. So many stops. From fast food to fancy food. Breadth. In geography, in cuisine. The rule was anything but Chinese and Japanese.

French in Soho. Northern Italian in Flatiron. French colonial in Fidi. Southern Soul in Harlem. New American high above the city. Vietnamese in DUMBO. Lebanese in Cobble Hill. Jewish in Greenpoint. Pizza in the West Village. Mexican in Williamsburg.

current obsessions: japanese omiage

There’s something about the individual wrapping that makes it feel more intentional. That makes it feel worth cherishing. A special ritual. Indulgent. Worthwhile.

Thé Noir will always be my favorite. But the crisp matcha is a strong contender for tea flavored goods. And I’ll always have a soft spot for giant pocky and Japanese melon.

But the stars of the haul have to be the chocolate citrus, freeze dried yuzu and sweet oranges injected with white chocolate. A perfect complement to the bitterness of the citrus.

west coast wonders

I guess LA can still feel like a chore. I haven’t been this stressed in LA since I lived in LA. What used to be a source of comfort felt like a source of stress. I wanted to do as little as possible. At least, beyond the obligations. And so as little as possible I did. But I did make time to drive by my favorite LA landmarks. The Arby’s sign lives.

culture fix

Amy Sherald at the Whitney. God, this was a good one. The regal-ness of these paintings up close. The splashes of color. The ouevre so impressive for a contemporary artist. I couldn’t help but think how remarkable it is to have such distinct style, a perspective not a brand, and one that is celebrated in its time.

can’t tell if this is the perfect or worst airplane movie because what even happened in it

and so we return to the classics, comfort films for the cross country haul

always, always a sucker for British crime series

Oh she got access to Netflix again oops. Which meant my anti-social week was spent in front of the television binging hours upon hours of series that I would just as soon forget I’d ever watched. But perhaps that is the point.

NEW FIND

Printemps.

Perhaps a reason to come all the way downtown? To be honest I’m a little worried about the survival of this well-curated French department store, purely by location. It certainly is beautiful and attracting people over as a destination. The restored architecture and design is worthy of some gawking. But still, will it last?

Beauty haul. Heavy on the Rare Beauty. And $1000 worth of The Whoo, which just officially launched in the US.

good bites

In LA I had a two track mind. The first track was Komal. The line for Holbox was a bit too crazy to brave. But Komal hit hard. The second track was Roast Duck by Pa Ord. I mean. The mascot alone is iconic. And the duck lived up to its name.

God I miss the cafe scene in LA. Particularly in K-Town. I also miss the boba scene in LA, which skews notably more Taiwanese than on the east coast that gets more Mainland imports. He Cha Lou landed, perfectly within the food court of the Alhambra 99 Ranch. And Formosa Aroma does way more than it needs to. With decadent, creative drinks and a strong selection of oolongs.

FARIDA // central asian comfort food in a place that feels like a family home. tucked away in a windowless footprint in fidi. delightfully under the radar.

RICE & MISO // considering it is a neighborhood haunt, I fear I don’t come here enough. It’s the perfect WFH lunch.

HANI’S // this new bakery is thriving and for damn good reason. so many hits. so much breadth from laminated pastries to decadent cakes and plenty of savories.