13 Laps Per Mile - LIC YMCA

The Long Island City Branch of the YMCA has a track that I run three times a week. 13 laps makes a mile, and my minimum is 2 miles, so that's 26 times. My longest distance yet is 4 miles, or 52 laps. I have worked out an elaborate counting system to make sure I keep track, and I listen to the podcasts of KCRW's "The Business" and "Good Food," or I listen to what I call my "you can do it" songs: Dolly Parton's "9 to 5," Eminem's "Lose Yourself," and Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl," which get mixed in whatever other fast paced songs I want to listen to. "Holding Out for a Hero" always makes me feel like I can run a thousand miles.

Now, I'm a huge fan of the Y. It's a great value- only $39 per month for 1 person, and in addition to the track they've got weight and cardio machines, a pool, and a really nice selection of classes. I have taken yoga classes with both of the instructors, and really enjoyed them. I keep meaning to go back, but I'm committed to running 3 days a week and it seems like I can't find exercise time outside of that.

My only complaint is that the track is relatively unmonitored, and I get tired of having to dodge small children playing around, or people walking slowly side by side (the track is only three lanes wide), or people who don't look where they're going and step in front of me when I'm running by. Also, there are clearly posted signs that state that on M,W,F, and Sa you run one way, and on the other days you run the other, but some people don't pay attention that either. It would seem logical that walkers should give way to runners, but many of the walkers don't understand this. It's very frustrating to have to worry about dodging walkers or children when you're also trying to increase speed and endurance. I'm hoping to run the marathon this year or the next, and if I'm doing 260 laps (20 miles) on that track, you better get out of my way. Yeah, I'm talking to you, lady talkin on your cell phone walking the wrong way with your 2-year-old who thinks it's funny when I have to jump out of the way to avoid stepping on him. Please, just let me run.

I have to add that the staff has been very sympathetic to my complaints- I don't blame them. They can't monitor everyone. But I am hoping that they can figure out some way to remedy this situation. I suggested signs that tell walkers to keep to one side or the other, and the guy I spoke to seemed to think that was a good idea. I'm not going to hold it against them if they can't fix it. There's only so much that can be done to regulate the unruly public.

Although requiring some sort of application process for using the track would sit fine by me.

There's Nothing Like A Good Liquor Store

There are many times when one can lament the mom-and-pop nature of much of Queens. Places close early, everything is 'cheap' and by which I mean cheap-ass. You frequently can't get what you want when you want it and must resort to driving further into Queens for the suburban answer, or trudging into Manhattan for the expensive answer. There are some blessed exceptions. Fortunately for Claire and I, our local liquor store is the supreme example of the exception.

Located right on Queens Blvd, you can spot Lowery Liquors either by the large yellow sign or the double parked cars blocking traffic. (Why is it always the SUVs? Are they reall ALL complete jerks?) Inside, there's plenty of room for you and the jerks to find what you're looking for. There are aisles and aisles of unopened fun from every corner of the globe. A truely Queensian approach to stocking nearly perfected here. Something for everyone and something really cheap for most of us.

Claire loves the Reds and I love the corn liquor. Oh, the trouble we've seen from those two damned liquids of such discenible color. Nothing will ever glisten like a glass of bourbon under a street lamp. Nothing catches the white hot fluorescent light of a Chinese restaurant like a glass of cheap red wine.

And here they abound. We have murdered case after case of Pinots, Cabernets and Syrahs all at less than 9 dollars a bottle.

And the stories I could tell you about Maker's Mark, if I could remember them beyond the just-the-facts approach of a police report from the stodgy bastards at the 108th precinct. Very little humor there. But, I digress.

Mom and Pop make good here. The woman behind the counter is one owner, and the man helping you carry the case to the register is another. There's always a bottle you can get for a tener and guaranteed it's drinkable with a good, cheap dish of General Tso's chicken.

Cheers.

Greenpoint Avenue Grocery Store Smackdown: Foodtown Vs. Associated

One of our favorite recipes is for Garlic Cilantro Chicken Thighs with Miso, from some food magazine "special issue" I paid $10 for. I've yet to make anything else from the thing. We usually serve it with mashed potatoes (though not anymore because we ate too many mashed potatoes our first year of marriage and one of us got kind of fat*) and green beans.

Shopping List:
Miso
Chicken Stock (I like Swanson's 100% Fat Free Organic because it has no MSG and no corn syrup)
Worcestershire Sauce
Rice Wine Vinegar
Garlic
Chicken Thighs
Russet potatoes
Sour Cream
2% milk
Green Beans
Cilantro

We like to go grocery shopping together because I am a little lazy and like Wesley to chauffeur me around Sunnyside whenever possible. Plus, grocery shopping in Sunnyside is rife with frustration, despair, and dashed hopes, and sometimes you just can't face it alone.

Which leads to the subject of this post. We have two grocery stores in our stretch of Greenpoint Avenue, which for me is defined as proximity to the library at 43rd and Greenpoint. The Foodtown is on the near side, and the Associated on the far side.

FYI- you can't get miso anywhere in Sunnyside. You have to go to Woodside. But a little miso lasts a long time, so it's worth the trip (and stop by Donovan's for a burger while you're there).

Since the Foodtown is closer, we start our journey there, but don't make it past the nasty produce aisle. The produce at the Foodtown is generally old and sometimes even rotting. We quickly turn around and dash up to the Associated, where we find a wide produce aisle, with water misters spritzing the leafy greens. Are those apricots? Maybe I'll make a pie for my next stitch & bitch!

We start reaching for produce. How come the aisle is only wide enough for one shopping cart and nothing else? The aisle over there isn't even wide enough for a person. I'm can't figure out where to park the thing without blocking the flow of traffic. And I'm terrified that I'm going to poke Wesley's eye out with the spike on top of the cart. There are a hundred thousand people in here, and it's 1:30 on a Tuesday.

Okay, we made it to the back, where I realize that the store is really small and doesn't have a lot of food for sale. We skip the trans-fat laden center aisles and head for the dairy aisle, where I discover that they don't carry Stonyfield yogurt, and where Wesley gets caught in the vortex surrounding the bread corner. He's going around and around because everytime he reaches the exit, somebody blocks him with their cart. "I'll save you, my love," I call out. "Save yourself," he returns, "just throw me a block of cheddar cheese." "The white kind?" I say, through tears. He loops around again, blocked again. "I don't like the orange kind. They put dye in it." I look on the shelf. "They don't sell the white kind." But he's gone, forever. In my dream I put my mouth to his ear and whisper, "Meet me at Foodtown."

At Foodtown I bypass the produce aisle altogether. We don't need green beans or cilantro. We can wash down vitamins with Metamucil. I turn left instead of right and find my dear Wesley! He's marveling over the selection of healthy foods like Annie's Organic, Veggie Booty, Uncle Sam's Cereal, and Newman's Own. He puts three boxes of Fig Newman's in the cart, even though we just stocked up at drugstore.com, reasoning that we should encourage this type of behavior.

The aisles at Foodtown are kind of ugly, but they're wide enough for two carts to pass. And they have Stonyfield yogurt, and an olive bar, and lots of white cheddar cheese for Wesley. I get a huge jar of minced garlic and feel like I own a restaurant. In back, the meat selection is pretty extensive, and the Foodtown brand chicken thighs look just as good as the more expense Perdue brand. I grab some frozen edamame from the freezer and help Wesley load the deli meat he's sure to forget he bought into the cart. We don't have a very long wait because there's hardly anybody here. I present my Foodtown club card and get a discount on several items. Bonus- I have enough Greenpoints to get that blender I've been wanting! Hello, daiquiris!

We lug our food to the car and find that we're parked in front of a store called Mother's. It's a greengrocer with a beautiful selection of fruits and vegetables. We load up on potatoes, green beans, cilantro, clementines, bananas, grapes, and Lindt 70% chocolate. They only take cash and we're pleased to pay it.

Winner, by TKO: Foodtown (ably helped by cutman Mother's), Greenpoint and 41st Street.

*don't worry, a new running routine at the LIC YMCA took care of that

From a Jaunting Car, Bliss

I once played pool in a pub where now a bistro sits. The bistro removed the pool table and the televisions, which seems to have girded the beams a bit as well. Certainly the paint around the toilets and the mint in the urinal have both helped, too.

Claire and I weren't expecting much - we'd just been rabble-roused by the fine citizens at the American Museum of the Moving Image - which is only marginally American, hardly a museum, and certainly not moving - what, with a bunch of Queen's finest playing video games and selling you tickets at their leisure all in an effort, I'm sure, is only designed to confuse.

Anyway, our friend Nathaniel Bates had recommended this neighborhood bistro, Bliss, or www.blissgardens.com on Skillman Ave. and 43rd St. (I believe.) Once the home of the Jaunting Car pub and many a late night billiards game with the locals for myself. I met Lynda there, she of Rupert Murdoch fame, of Christopher Allan Davis Fame. She was surprised that I knew her name was spelled with a 'y' when I put her up on the chalkboard for next game. I never told her the truth. Especially not after sucking up a good portion of her cocaine in the bathroom.

Quite the "Neighborhood Bistro" it is, too. Called in from Central Casting: Chef so-and-so is there; but he doesn't have much to say. There is much to be said however: We've seen it all before. Spinach salad with goat cheese, Calamari (with nothing special, just fried); Grilled salmon; roasted chicken, three kinds of steak, each more expensive than the last. But, all done fine, just fine.

The service tried very hard to be attentive. He even knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there were no pine nuts in the black olive tapanade. Excellent. Especially considering that he was the only one working the whole room- with occasional help from the manager and oversight performed in a slight way by a female co-owner or hostess. Difficult to tell - she was older and non-committal.

We ordered two salads, house for her; spinach for me; and we both ordered burgers.
That, and we drank. Two rounds each of bourbon and red wine (hers).
No big complaints. So here's the small ones:
If you suggest reservations, have someone at the door, or if people come in, greet them quickly. b) We're ready to order drinks more quickly than you think. c) get the bartender out from behind the empty bar to take or deliver these said drinks. d) tell the busboys not to answer questions. they don't understand english. there's nothing wrong with that -it is okay not to speak the language. Just don't add to the confusion. e)burgers without mustard??? Dijon does not do. It is not for burgers. Burgers, even rare, deserve a bold, yet delicate brown mustard. Coleman's is NOT okay. Grey Poupon is a slap in the face.

And, finally, the booze- what a nightmare. $9 for a bourbon on the rocks? You're on Skillman Ave in Sunnyside. And, don't serve red wines we can get at the liquor store for $7 a bottle for $8 a glass. Do your research, get some exclusives. Hide your cheapness. Don't flaunt it next to my Penthouse Bourbon... And, always use a clean glass, please.

Tell the waiter he's doing a fine job, but he needs to calm down a little bit. I don't need to know that your name is Chip and you'll be my waiter. We caught on to that one well before you did.

You'll do well, Bliss, we'll be back, with friends, but we won't order our drinks on the rocks nor our wines by the glass. Beers and bottles! Here, Here!

With Warmest Regards,
Wesley and Claire

we love queens!

And we wish you'd visit more often... so we've started a blog to tell you where we've been so you'll know where you wanna go.

Love,
Claire & Wesley