New York City is not the best city in the world. But I’m pretty sure it’s the greatest. There is so much shit here you just can’t find anyplace else.

Last night I took a cooking class with Alex Guarnaschelli. If you live in lower Manhattan and you’ve never been to Butter, walk over there next payday and order the tasting. You may find yourself scrounging under the couch cushions for McDonald’s Dollar Menu money later in the week, but no sacrifice is too great. Chef Alex is one of the few Food Network stars who actually cooks in their own restaurant every night, and she’s the only person who has ever made mushrooms and raw tomatoes taste good to me.

So I now (ostensibly) know how to prepare roasted duck with honey and braised lentils, make my own mozzarella, and assemble a spring pea salad. I’ll be taking that information with me when I move to Albany in about three weeks. As I go, there’s a lot of great stuff I’ll be leaving behind… experiences (like last night’s cooking lesson) which can only be had in New York City.

Don’t get me wrong; I am fuckin psyched to be outta here. NYC life is a nonstop battle. You fight for space, for the right of way, for money, for attention – just getting from one end of a block to the other can be a struggle. And the city can make you feel like you’re always failing, always behind.  Everyone comes here with a goal, and not usually a realistic one. In that light, it’s hard to see true victories for what they are.

And New York City changes so fast, right before your eyes. The people you care about give up and leave. Businesses open and close. Neighborhoods gentrify and decay. Beautiful old buildings disappear and are replaced by ugly new ones. Like, what the hell is that shit over by Cooper Union? Dubai-on-the-Bowery.

Many of the places I’ve frequented in my 10 years here have gone away. I found out on Christmas Eve that Curry Mahal is no longer on 2nd Avenue. LB and I headed over there for dinner, and it was boarded up. Love Saves The Day is now a noodle house with a mostly brown exterior. Coney Island High is ten years in its grave. There’s no more Tower Records… and of course, no CBGB.

(One day, maybe I’ll tell you the real story behind the closing of CBGB. It’s nothing at all like what you’ve heard or read.)

Less has changed in Albany. Sometimes I feel like nothing ever changes up there, though I understand that’s not true; 10 years in NYC provides a warped basis for comparison. The Daily Grind is still there. Metroland remains in print. Madison’s End Cafe is now Cafe Madison, but that awesome breakfast is the same. Many of my friends are still there – and, as I’ve been pleased to discover over the past few days, they’re still my friends. Saratoga is still less than a half-hour away (and that place never changes).

I’ve been making a list of things I would like to do in my last month as a resident of New York City. The list is too long and I realize I’m not gonna get it all in, but I’ll do my best. If any of these activities sound interesting to you, get in touch. I’m a sucker for good company. And you never know – some of this shit might already be gone by my next visit.

My NYC Bucket List:
- Get a Double at Coney Island Joe’s
- Walk the High Line to Little W 12th Street and have dinner at Pastis
- Visit Liberty Island and Ellis Island
- See James Spader in Race one more time
- Eat at Butter, La Palapa, Katz’s, Vinegar Hill House and Melba’s
- Walk the Williamsburg Bridge (but turn around before actually going into Williamsburg)
- Brunch at Virage
- Walk up the West Side and get breakfast at Barney Greengrass
- Visit the Metropolitan Museum, the Whitney, and the Museum of Natural History
- Bowl at Chelsea Piers
- Catch a couple games at Citi Field
- Walk the Coney Island boardwalk and go on some rides
- Get a vanilla egg cream from Gem Spa
- Drive out to Long Island and visit the Old Bethpage Village Restoration, Adventureland, All-American Burger and Vincent’s
- Go for dim sum
- Walk in from Dumbo across the Manhattan Bridge, stop at the Doughnut Plant, walk along the East River to South Street Seaport, then walk back out over the Brooklyn Bridge

Most of these are things I’ve enjoyed before, and just want to experience one more time. I see this as a sign that it’s okay to go.

I wrote a song the other day called “City Of My Dreams”. It’s about how this place can mess your shit up, and how good it can feel to know you’re getting free. The chorus is: “I want New York City to go back to being the city of my dreams.” Once I’m gone, it probably will. But I’ll be glad to wake up every morning in Albany.

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