Mural in Chelsea soothes the soul.

How to Spend a Chill Weekend in NYC: Soho, Greenwich Village, Chelsea

On three layovers and six proper stays in NYC, I’ve marched in the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade, herded students from Central Park to the Statue of Liberty, had tea at The Plaza, took an elevator to the top of the Twin Towers, volunteered after 9/11, celebrated my sis’s birthday in Times Square, found writing mojo at the Creativity Workshop,  introduced Manhattan to my daughter when our connecting flight was cancelled, and  dashed in an Uber to Queens’ Don Peppe restaurant on a long wait for a connecting flight.

Whether I have just a New York minute or several days, the island’s eclectic energy always recharges me. I love the city for its icons, like the Empire State Building and Broadway, and for its diversity. I love traveling in Europe, Africa, Central America, South America and the Caribbean, but when I don’t have the money or time to go abroad, a quick trip to the Big Apple IS a global getaway. 

“I love New York because within its borders you can travel the world.” —Dennis Gonzalez

This fall I experienced NYC in a way I’ve wanted to for years–a stay in the Soho area to relax like a local. I met my friend, Kate, who’d flown in from Morocco. Unlike our previous annual reunions since I moved home from Marrakesh, this one was short– only 48 hours-– so our agenda was no agenda, my favorite way to catch up with old friends.

We sauntered, savored, and (as Kate calls it in her Australian accent) popped into boutiques to “have a snoop.” We enjoyed slow travel and serendipity in a town that never sleeps and found, truly, that less is more. Here’s how we kept it simple and you can, too.


We decided to venture no farther than Chelsea.  (Carrie Bradshaw’s apartment–should you want to stalk the fictional character on Sex and the City and her girls as I’ve done for years— is  at 66 Perry Street between Bleecker and West 4th.) Kate enjoyed scouting the neighborhood while staying in this Airbnb before I arrived. She then joined me at an apartment in Nolita, “North of Little Italy,” owned by my friend and former student, a graduate of NYU who became a resident.  As she headed out of town, Cayce  graciously handed over her keys to her fabulous studio apartment with a list of what to do and where to eat in the area. Laughing, she wished us luck with the crowds at the Feast of San Gennaro just around the corner in Little Italy and gave us alternatives if we wanted to avoid Mulberry Street and the line at Prince Street Pizza. She also pointed us to places to roam and dream… McNally Jackson , Sezanne, and Elizabeth Street Garden. Local hosts are the best! 

*If you are into annual celebrations where locals and tourists converge, you can plan your trip around this list and find an Airbnb rental nearby. 



Cayce’s list included La Mercerie for French cuisine, Baz Bakery, run by a local Italian/Jewish family, Osteria Morini,  Rubirosa, Aunt Jake’s  Pepe’s Cellar (Italian) and YN Bar (Italian-influenced); La Esquina (Mexican), and Sel Rose (beautiful oyster bar in the tradition of artist salons in early 20th century Paris) for drinks. She also suggested Two Hands, a local favorite for coffee.

Friday night we did join the celebration on Mulberry Street at the Feast of San Gennaro, but as warned, by Saturday we were ready to escape the crowd for a more relaxing Italian dinner. We found it on Mott Street at  Pepe Rosso Social.

Good food, gorgeous ceilings, and chill atmosphere at Pepe Rosso in Nolita, NYC.

Discovering two hubs of Spanish food —one like Madrid’s food halls and the other an intimate family-owned restaurant–was a treat. We exited the High Line (see below) at Hudson Yards and checked out Mercado Little Spain, which The New York Times raves “offers more delicious things to eat per square foot than anywhere else in New York.” Chef José Andrés, named twice on their “100 Most Influential People” list and awarded “Outstanding Chef” and “Humanitarian of the Year” by the James Beard Foundation, has created a delicious gathering space. Inside the connecting mall are cellphone lockers for recharging while you eat or shop.




Serendipity led me to another Spanish haven when I had only an hour before heading to the airport. While Kate packed, I decided to enjoy music at the Italian Fest one last time and hopefully find an Aperol Spritz  as delicious as the Spritz Veneziano I’d had New Year’s Eve in Venice . Instead a discovery transported me to another one of my favorite places on earth, Galicia, Spain—  seafood capital of the world, final destination of  pilgrims on the  the Camino de Santiago  , and home of my friend, Moni.  My only regret of discovering  Tomino Taberna Gallega,  owned by a family from that region, was that I had no time or room left after brunch (see below) for their Pulpo á Feira (Galician-style octopus ), my very favorite dish on earth. I did enjoy their sangria and tapas and hope to try their octopus on a future trip one day.

Spanish restaurant located on Grand Street between Mulberry and Mott


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CROQUETAS: Jamón y tomate asado (serrano ham & roasted tomato) and Marisco y alioli rosa (seafood & aioli)


Stepping inside Tomino transported me back to Spain.


Silverware clanging in the kitchen, mahogany floors creaking as waiters weave around guests, coffee gurgling from silver pots into china cups, crystal mimosa glasses toasting to jazz, sunlight streaming through the windows, friends laughing. Sunday Brunch is my favorite meal out, especially in NYC.

Lured by the menu we walked a  few blocks to Lafayette , a French grand café and bakery in NoHo.







It was hard choosing between craft cocktails, cheese plates, oysters, and omelets. We decided on the Nicoise salad with rare tuna, anchovies, and eggs so we wouldn’t feel so guilty about also ordering the Bananas Foster French Toast with Vanilla Ice Cream, Rum, Caramel, and Almonds. About that dessert…no words.



We had a coffee at Balthazar, a beloved French cafe in Soho just to see the gorgeous interior. I found more delicious, diverse options for brunch, like Cafe Clover   in the East Village and The Butcher’s Daughter in Nolita for vegans like my son.  In the West Village, Seinfeld fans can eat at legendary Katz Delicatessen, loved long by locals and featured by Anthony Bourdain.


I saved Shoo Shoo , an Israeli restaurant in Nolita serving Mediterranean cuisine on a gorgeous marble bar and tables on the terrace, for a return visit. I hope to try their Octopus Alla Plancha (grilled on a metal plate like I had enjoyed here) and Moroccan Cigars, beef and lamb with dry mint and pine nuts served on grated tomatoes, tahini, and tatbila sauce someday. 


Ok, locals we saw Saturday along the Hudson River on our way to the The High Line, a 1.45 mile greenway built along a former New York Central Railroad train track , were sprinting –not strolling. Guess this  explains how they stay fit despite Sunday brunches and amazing food available everyday, everywhere in Lower Manhattan. Getting there was a hike, but we took our time through the Village and Chelsea, stopping in boutiques and at farmers’ markets along the way. 



Our favorite find was NOMA Boutique Paris at 321 1/2 Bleecker Street, home of handmade French and Italian shoes. We enjoyed meeting owner Jean-Christophe Grand and hearing the story of his bringing Paris to the West Village.

Flea Market Finds


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Hare Krishna in Washington Square

Atop the High Line, the pace slowed even more. We passed weekend readers and nappers on loungers as we photographed our way to Hudson Yards











Saturday stroll from Nolita to Hudson Yards and back

Sunday after brunch we did more of the same, wandering down shady streets… stopping by Li-Lac Chocolates, NYC’s finest since 1923, where I won their monthly box of chocolates giveaway…and enjoying a very cherished,  almost-secret garden.

Beautiful and Peaceful Elizabeth Street Garden


On another visit I hope to get to this Soho art gallery where Charlotte on Sex and the City worked. What else did I miss? I’d love to hear your favorite places and experiences in Lower Manhattan or any other area that’s a must-stay, savor, and stroll. 




Tennessee Backroads…Natchez Trace and Loveless Cafe

Tennessee Backroads…Natchez Trace and Loveless Cafe


My life is a Tale of Two Cities…both tourist towns.  At Nashville’s center, 2nd Avenue, I rubbed shoulders this summer with girl gangs in shorts and boots out for barbecue and beer.  In Marrakesh’s marketplace, Jemaa el Fna, I rub shoulders with girl groups in harem pants and sandals out for a bargain and mint tea.  But sometimes the best stuff is found on country (or desert) backroads.

Though Sundays when I was growing up and picnics with my kids meant fried chicken, the last few years I’ve rarely eaten anything fried. But when on my layover in Madrid on the way to Tennessee I almost opted for KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken) over a tapas bar, I knew it was time to go home. I missed biscuits and gravy.  And like I said in my first Southern Girl Gone Home post, I dreamed one night of bacon.  I’ve never eaten country ham other than at Christmas, but I couldn’t wait to taste it again. While home I porked out—literally–particularly at a place considered a national treasure.    I’m ashamed to say I have been in Nashville since 1987 and never made the trip to the Loveless Café.  Since only home for a month, I decided to check out the place People Magazine says the country ham is “the best in America” and USA Today calls “the real McCoy of Southern cooking,”  Bon Appetit gushed, “On a scale of 1 to  10, my breakfast came in at about a 14,” and Martha Stewart crooned, “It was the best breakfast I’ve ever had.”  And, of course, there’s the wall of fame– country music legends making claiming the food is iconic.


The Loveless began as a private home hangout in the 40s where folks gathered in the living room and danced on the hardwood floor.  By 1951 Lon and Annie Loveless were serving chicken and biscuits to travelers on Highway 100 from their front door; they then added 14 motel rooms.  The rest of their history is here and check out their world-famous “Biscuit Lady,” Carol Fay Ellison making biscuits on the Today Show.





When Taylor, Cole and I were told the wait was an hour and forty minutes, we almost bolted, but I’m so glad we didn’t. We waited only and hour and I was a little disappointed because I was having a great conversation in the Shimai gift shop with owner Becca Ganick. She loves meeting people from all over the world  who stop by.  The restaurant is open 7 AM-9 PM Monday-Friday.  We were there on a Friday at prime lunch time; to beat the crowds it’s recommended to visit Monday-Thursday 7-9am, after 2pm or  before 6pm.  Or stop in on a road trip on the Natchez Trace as I hope to do next time.  To plan it, festivals, sites, and Bed and Breakfasts along the way are listed here. It’s amazing what you can learn on backroads.

We did breakfast at lunch time (so Taylor and I tried the Blue Moon Cocktail–there actually WAS a blue moon when I was home)  but you can get lunch or supper as well. See menu here.




While Taylor and I had breakfast, Cole chose a dinner classic--meatloaf.
While Taylor and I had breakfast, Cole chose a dinner classic–meatloaf.


Be sure to try the GRITS–even if you aren’t a “Girl Raised in the South.”  And after the biscuits, you may want to pick up a package of their biscuit mix. I hauled mine back to Morocco…if only I could have brought the ham, too.  And if you want to try one of their recipes, I recommend the Fruit Tea Punch–especially those of you who drink only hot tea because In the south, “sweet tea” on ice is a staple, Banana Pudding with Homemade Wafers (especially if you don’t have “store-bought” wafers), Loveless Pecan Pie, or their signature Elvis Pie.  And please, all you southern cooks, leave your favorite variations and other favorite recipes in the comments for Yankees ( people from “up north” or anywhere not southern US) to try.

Shelling beans by the bird dog over sweet tea…my mom tells the story of my dad buying a bird dog, Queenie, with an entire week’s pay when she was expecting me. Later he bought another one, Ben Hur.


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