We’re on the train back to the District, and i’ve got a couple random thoughts clattering around my head:

• New York is about as kid friendly as they come — Outside of the obvious fears about wandering off and getting hit by a Taxi the city was great.  People on the sidewalk gave a friendly smile, cabbies were super patient, and waiters and hotel staff bended over backwards.
• The Affinia Dumont was terriffic — We stayed at a $200/night hotel at with more square footage than most DC hotels, and it came with two beds and a kitchen.  Totally clean, modern.  Great staff, serviceable bar — what more could you ask for?
• Avoid the touristy stuff, or go at off hours — We had more fun in our neighborhood (Murray Hill/Grammercy Park) than we did the area around Times Square.  We enjoyed the Bryant Park tree (with 12 locals) more than Rockefeller Center (with 2.6 million people from New Jersey.
• Kids are trainable — In 12 hours, Sparklet had figured out that she needed to stay a little closer to mommy and daddy than usual, and that we’d lose our gourds if she didn’t.  Of course, she also figured out that we really WANTED to buy her something in each toy store we visited, and was all too happy to help pick stuff out.
• i need skates and ice skating lessons — i spent over two hours at two different skating rinks this weekend, and didn’t step on to the ice. of course, my biggest problem is the size of my feet (size 14 or 15 shoes), but followed closely behind by a complete lack of coordination on slippery surfaces. i’ve got to find a way to make this work.
• iPads are awesome, terrible things — We did 2 two-plus hour train rides, and between the books, toys and iPad, the only time she complained was when her kiddie headphones fell off her ears.  I really don’t know if I’m happy or sad about this, but it works regardless of my vague uneasiness.

I really do love this town — especially at Christmas — but I’m a little nervous we won’t be back for a while. 

The second baby (“thing two”) fundamentally shifts us towards a zone defense, and so the next big vacation might be in more of a structured environment — which is probably code for either a cruise, a theme park, or a large national park with all its pointy rocks wrapped in foam rubber.

Pretty sure giving into the need for structure isn’t a good thing, but could just be part of growing up. Or, at the least, settling. Or, at least, refusing to give in an buy a leash.

breakfast at murray hill diner, lexington avenue and 33rd street, new york, new york.

i’m slightly embarrassed to say that i’m becoming a bit of an Anthony Bourdain fan-boy.

i’ve read several of his books (including his best known, Kitchen Confidential), his travel channel show “no reservations” is the only food show that i watch with any regularity, and we’ve just gotten hooked on his new show, “the layover”.

not sure exactly where the allure has come from, but he’s my kind of chef — his food is relatively simple fare, and he is a chef from a time before Martha Stewart and Williams Sonoma conspired to ruin the public’s notion of the equipment required to cook and consume food “properly.”

and he doesn’t say the word “bam!” after adding each ingredient.

so, it was with GREAT trepidation that i booked a table for two at his Park Avenue eatery, Brasserie Les Halles. i was scared to death that it would suck, that it would be as charming as a Las Vegas themed mega-restaurant, and that i would be outed as a fan-boy to boot.

i had no reason for the fear or the loathing — the food was outstanding, down to the smallest touches.

we had to push the bread to the opposite side of the table, so we wouldn’t ruin dinner. the mussels had a sauce (Portuguese) that quickly caused us to break out the bread again in reckless disregard for the swelling of our stomachs. we had so many “okay, this is the last frite and i mean it” that we lost count.

and all that was before dinner arrived.

i had a plate of pork big enough to make a man weep — smoked pork loin, veal sausage, frankfurter, smoked bacon, boiled potatoes and sauerkraut. i don’t even like pork loin, and it was easily the best thing i’ve eaten in 10 years.

it was legitimately outstanding, regardless of the reality television flashbacks.

don’t get me wrong, we had our bits of celebrity worship — we were waited on by veteran waiter tim, we saw the back of long-time owner Philippe Lajaunie’s head, and executive chef Carlos Llaguno was behind the glass when we peaked through the kitchen window.

the best bit was the restaurant itself was as unassuming as any you’ll find. if it seats 120 people, it’s not by much. decor doesn’t look like its been updated in 50 years. the floor was stuffed mostly by locals, or at least tourists who knew how to blend in. when we asked for a quiet table to celebrate our anniversary, we got (easily) the best table in the restaurant.

and, the whole thing — two glasses of wine, one double sized appetizer, two entrees, two deserts, two coffees — was $120. i’ve paid twice as much in D.C., for half the meal.

my existence as an anthony bourdain fan-boy continues on, unabated. a simple, dirty pleasure in a complex world of food and reality television.

and i feel great.

for the record, last night’s trip to rockefeller center didn’t go all that well.

granted, we saw the tree — but it was so packed that the cab had to let us off three blocks away. pedestrians we’re walking down the center of 49th, because there was no room on the sidewalks, and cars couldn’t make it through the crosswalks anyway.

turns out sunday mornings at 8:00 am are a little different.

we could have bowled down 6th ave, and hit neither person nor automobile. we actually got to see the tree, and could have skated if one of us wasn’t either pregnant, or horribly unskilled, or two years old.

oh, and the fact that it was 24 #$%@ing degress out probably helped, too.

lunch at patsy’s pizzaria, 34th and 3rd ave, new york, new york

we’re on our way to new york city.

it’s our first family vacation since exactly a year ago, when we were in Costa Rica for a friends wedding. We haven’t been in new york together, in an even longer time — not since five and half years ago when we got engaged.

it’s also sparklet’s first train ride, which is great timing considering her recent obsession with all things choo-choo. speaking of obsessions:

• she’s counting to five now — english and spanish. she needs props (nuts, crayons, figurines) but counts them off completely un-prompted.
• she’s half potty trained now — about four days ago, mommy sat her down and told her that she’d get gummi bears for each time she uses the potty. within the first 2 hours, she had gone thrice, and it’s been mostly dry diapers ever since.
• her vocabulary is growing — she’s definately in the identification phase, where she has to call out the make and color of every object she sees. Cute, but a bit of a liability when you’re hurtling down the highway and she’s screaming at you for each car, bus and taxi she sees.

we’ll be here through Tuesday — my family used to come up to new york every winter for years and years, to see the decorations and the store windows, and we’ll be doing just about the same thing.

it’ll be good.