High observation: Top of the Rock photo gallery

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New Orleans: In pictures

I’m just this afternoon back from a short break in New Orleans. I’m actually still a little overwhelmed from it all; it’s one of my favourite city breaks. Nola is a destination for partying, catching bands in the street and scouring pretty boutiques and boy, is it good for food and drinks (and that’s from a vegetarian). And, JazzFest was pretty incredible too.

Crescent City Books is home to stacks of gorgeous old books

Brunch at Jimmy J’s Cafe

Beautiful inside and out: The Saint Louis Cathedral

Years after learning the spelling, it’s the Mississippi River

Golden New Orleans beignets at Cafe Du Monde

Business is thriving at Cafe Du Monde

Charming French Quarter

Charming French Quarter x 2

Shaking our ‘tails at SuBo

Art galleries prevail

Dancing in the streets

1920s-style music

A CD. How retro.

Pip’s pancakes

Golden hues in the Saint Louis Cathedral

Ferry rides

Algiers. Not that Algiers.

Coffee shop heaven

Quaint, beautiful and oh-so-quiet Soniat House.

Rolling on the streetcar

New York on a plate: Where to get your fill

New York wipes the floor with other cities when it comes to dining out. Where else can you find such an eclectic range of cuisine?

If you fancy authentic Polish cuisine like kielbasa and babka, hop on the G to Greenpoint. Hankering after a particular Greek dish? Head to Astoria. Looking for Russian cuisine? Downtown Brooklyn’s Brighton Beach will satisfy any such cravings.

Ask any New Yorker for their favourite restaurant and they won’t just give you one. Instead, they’ll reel off just their top brunch spots or send you off with a list of their must-visit Italian joints. It’s just too hard to whittle down so many cracking restaurants. You see, New Yorkers love eating out so much they simply never eat in.

After cranking up a fair bit of time in New York over the past three years, I’ve racked up a few favourite restaurants. But just like a New Yorker, there’s no one standout – to me, they’re all unique and amazing. From a restaurant behind a pawn shop to a hip pizza joint, here’s a selection of my leading spots in the cool East Village, Lower East Side and Williamsburg ‘hoods.

East Village

Caracas Arepa Bar (93 1/2 E 7th St)

Ah, Caracas. Ever since I came across this narrow restaurant one sunny October day more than three years ago, I’ve become obsessed with it. To the point where I’m almost salivating when I think about it. Like now. Never thought you could ever fall in love with Venezuelan food? These beautiful arepas (think crispy patti-style buns), overflowing with delicious fillings like cheese, black beans and plantain, will prove you wrong. At about $6 a pop, they’re fingerlickly easy on the wallet too.

Momofuku Noodle Bar (171 First Ave)

If you’re hankering after noodles, get thee to Momofuku Noodle Bar and test your chopstick skills on the ramen as you sit squeezed in amongst New Yorkers on the wooden communal benches.

Crif Dogs (113 St Marks Pl)

For the best hotdogs in town, head to Crif Dogs. Serving up an eclectic range of toppings, here hotdogs are so much more than just sausages covered in mustard and ketchup.

Big Gay Ice Cream (125 E 7^th St)

Photo credit: Tonny Tsang

I didn’t realise I could actually adore ice cream until I had my first Salty Pimp at Big Gay Ice Cream. After starting up as food truck in 2009, this funky ice cream store is now a permanent East Village resident. Though there’s likely to be a queue snaking outside and they’ve actually employed someone to manage the line, you must take the wait and stand in line for the best ice cream of your life. The perennial favourite is the Salty Pimp, made up of vanilla ice cream with salted caramel and hard shell chocolate.

Lower East Side

Schiller’s Liquor Bar (131 Rivington Street)

Photo Credit: Sylvia Paret

For a cocktail-fuelled brunch, you’ll love hip Schiller’s Liquor Bar, with its black and white floor tiles and dim lighting.

Clinton St. Baking Co (4 Clinton Street)

An all-time brunch favourite is Clinton St. Baking Co  and although I’d like to say it’s one of mine, sadly I’ve only had the chance to get a whiff of the famous blueberry pancakes. See the secrets out for this Lower East Side brunch spot. When I visited there was a two-hour wait – so best to make a visit here on a late afternoon during the week.

Pulinos (282 Bowery)

For dinner, pull up a pew at smoking hot pizza joint Pulinos where the walls are lined with bottles of booze. A sexy spot for brunch or dinner is Beauty & Essex (146 Essex Street), which is fronted by a pawnshop. Only in New York.

Williamsburg

Ah, my ‘hood. If you want to forgo the queues at Caracas in East Village, visit Williamsburg’s more recently opened branch (291 Grand Street).

Egg (135 N 5^th St)

Egg is considered one of Williamsburg’s best brunch spots. Naturally there’ll be a queue outside this small cafe on a weekend so do scribble your name down on the clipboard at the front of the restaurant.

Roberta’s (261 Moore Street)

The restaurant still on everyone’s lips is Roberta’s. In fact, a trip to Williamsburg wouldn’t be complete without eating at this gritty pizza restaurant, which certainly lives up to the hype.

Nitehawk (136 Metropolitan Ave)

Fancy more than just popcorn with that flick? Nitehawk, Williamburg’s indie cinema serves up food like no other cinema. Triangular tables sit in front of each seat while the menu reads like a restaurants’ with tasty starters including stuffed piquillo peppers and croquettes. And yes, there is popcorn – in lime, cotija cheese and cilantro flavours.

Smorgasburg

Go on a street-food sampling run at food market Smorgasburg, where you can get your hands on a diverse range of cuisine from an Asian-style hotdog, ice-cream sandwich or a macaroon. Situated by the waterfront, this market comes with gobsmacking views of the Manhattan skyline.

Top tip: Remember to tip. Waiters are only paid around $5 an hour and rely on us for their income. For good service, tip 15-20%.

This post first appeared on Flight Centre’s blog.

Coney Island’s recovery

Walking around Coney Island five months after Hurricane Sandy hit and it’s clear to see that this famous Brooklyn landmark is still in recovery mode. Metal fences render parts of the beach inaccessible, and even today, a Sunday, construction was in full throe, with scores of construction crew working on the boardwalk that was ripped apart during the devastating hurricane. The New York Aquarium, damaged by the storm, won’t open until later next month.

While work is ongoing, there’s plenty to keep your inner child satisfied. Many of the restaurants are open and by the looks of things – like a long line at famous hotdog joint Nathan’s – many were enjoying a roaring trade today. And of course, there’s enough rides to make you feel nauseous. And besides, Coney is fantastic for people-watching. Walking down the boardwalk, I loved clocking all the Russians (it’s predominantly a Russian neighbourhood) and their mad dress sense. Men predominantly wore all-back ensembles, sometimes Puma or Adidas tracksuits and always teamed with sunglasses (well, it was sunny). The young women wore fur gilets, often on top of a bright pink top. The older women, sat huddled together in twos or threes on the boardwalk’s benches, had big blow-dried hair, bright lipstick and puffy black jackets.

Coney is like being transported to another world. And one that still needs post-Sandy investment.

A not so pretty sight: When the apple goes off

New York, it’s a city I place on a pedestal but last night I experienced a slice of its underbelly.

After spending a fantastic day/night in Queens, I was walking home and about to cross the road when a car sped past (pedestrians had right of way) and intentionally or not, a woman’s bag hit the car. The car abruptly stopped and a girl jumped out, aggressively swearing at this woman and started to assault her, pumping her fists into her head and pulling her hair. Seeing this I ran over and intervened, trying to separate this crazy girl from the victim. The thug screamed at me and tried to get me out of the way. At this, the male driver of the car rushed out of the vehicle, swore at me and also tried to get me to back away. I can’t remember how it ended up but 30 seconds later they returned to the car and sped off.

Not only am I outraged at what these scums of society did, but I’m outraged that while this was all happening a crowd of up to 15 people had stood there and watched the whole thing. None of the drivers from the cars that were forced to stop as they couldn’t get past, rushed to help. I’m outraged that while they’d seen the whole thing, not one of these spectators had called the police, no-one had  recorded it on their phone, no-one wrote down the numbers on the licence plate. Just nothing. Apart from one guy, no-one came over to this woman afterwards. Afterwards I ran across to a police car that was 10 metres away from the scene and explained what had happened. They’d seen a crowd but didn’t investigate. I’m outraged that they didn’t give chase to the car, they couldn’t take details of the report because they were in a the wrong district. I can’t even begin to outline my outrage at the next set of police who interrogated this woman and spoke to her in the most disgusting way I have ever heard. I’m outraged at myself after being caught recording this conversation on my phone and told to stop, I did. I won’t go into detail about the police for fear of repraisal but I left very very angry. It took me back to when I was mugged in London several years ago. The police, who arrived in a matter of minutes, interviewed me and drove me around the area to look for the criminals. Be thankful we have this.

Which is more than can be said for these bystanders. Now, my family will no doubt get in touch when they read this and shout at me for getting involved and will probably say something ‘They could have had a knife”. But let’s turn this on its head: How about if I was beaten up on the street and no-one did anything? How can we just stand there and watch a woman getting her head pulped? If everyone who saw this incident had intervened then these scumbags would have been outnumbered and backed away.

So while I still love this Big Apple, last night I saw that even this shiny city has a brown spot.

Tranquillity in the city that never sleeps: Aire Ancient Baths, New York

Sometimes it’s hard to find some peace and quiet in the urban and noisy concrete jungle that is New York. There’s always some American talking loudly about their new play, sex life or some (typically over dramatised) dilemma. In this city, any topic is aired. And never discreetly.

But one place you’re almost guaranteed silence is at Aire Ancient Baths, a glamorous bathhouse in Tribeca. I’m hedging a bet here, but I’m pretty sure this communal soak ain’t going to be like any you’ve ever been to.

The first international outpost for this Spanish mini-chain, Aire Ancient Baths aims to capture the traditional style of Roman bathhouses. Housed in the basement of a former meat warehouse, the baths show off original features like exposed brick walls, wood-beam ceilings and cast-iron columns while the stone sinks (from the 16th century) and marble have been shipped over from Spain. With chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, tens of candles flickering in the darkness and Middle Eastern music playing in the background, the sumptuous setting looks and feels utterly sexy.

At the bathhouse you can slide in and out of any of the pools of varied temperature – fancy the Caldarium? (the hot pool with a temperature of 102 F?). Or perhaps a very quick dip in the Frigidarium? (Um, cold pools with uncomfortable highs of 50 F and 57 F). Or you can always try floating in the Flotarium (salt water pool). Or relax in the glassed-in steam room or surround yourself with bubbles in the propeller jet bath. Alternatively, just lie back on the heated marble ledge. 

What else? Massages are available for an additional price. In one of the open glass treatment rooms, Vinnie, my first-ever male masseur, gave me one of the best massages I’ve ever had.

One of the best things about this design-led bathhouse is that client numbers are limited to about 20 per session and they encourage people to be quiet. So for an hour and half, there’s no cell phones ringing, no loud discussions. Just enough peace and quiet to zone out and recharge your batteries before you’re ready to pound the crazy streets of New York again.

INFORMATION:

Treatment prices for a thermal bath of 90 minutes is $75 and up to $500 for Kerala ritual of 210 minutes. Clients can also choose a champagne ritual of 210 minutes or a red wine ritual. Prices exclude sales tax and tip.

New York: The first week in pictures. Again.

New York, New York. I’m back in this intoxicating city. I may be sleeping above a Portuguese bar and not knowing where I’ll be living next week, but nothing can stop my love for this crazy, get-under-your-skin city. Catching a glimpse of the soul-stirring Manhattan skyline in my $44 cab ride from JFK to Williamsburg made the past four months of living in ELEVEN different places worth it. Nothing feels as incredibly invigorating as New York.

Arriving just before midnight on Thursday, I met Josh, one half of my lovely housemates, before slipping off into my box room. Friday – gym, emailing in the coffee shop before lunch at one of my favourite NY restaurants, Caracas (below). Situated just 200m from my apartment, I’m fighting off the urge to visit everyday.

On Friday, I also took a wander around Williamsburg, taking in new places that I never had the chance to visit before. One of them was chocolatiers Mast Brothers (below), where I treated myself to a bar of their dark, salted chocolate.

Saturday involved another trip to the gym (to work off all the extra calories) and nearly buying recycled clothing at Buffalo Exchange (below). It’s all the rage here.

Plus, the street art in Williamsburg remains as captivating as ever.

On Sunday, Josh and I swung by our local bar for a quick cocktail (below), complete with random chat about neurology with the bartender, before watching a film at Nitehawk. My favourite cinema ever. It’s so good I whipped up a post about it last time I was here.

When we came out we were confronted by a snow storm.

Anyone would mistake the above snap as just a taco take-away. But underneath lies La Esquina, the coolest tequila bar in NYC. Drinking margaritas and eating delicious grilled corn, tostadas and quesadillas, Pip & I were in Mexican heaven on Tuesday night.  We finished up the evening at hidden Chinatown cocktail bar Apotheke.

Wednesday night involved more cocktails. This time at NoHo stylish restaurant Saxon & Parole.

But eating and drinking aside, I’ve also been apartment hunting, spinning, treated myself to a $10 manicure that would rival any £25+ British mani, and booked a trip to vibrant New Orleans. So far, so good. Now, there’s just the little thing of a bar below my sleepy head tonight…