award-winning journalist | new york times institute for journalism fellow | 300+ stories published worldwide in 10+ languages
The Lower East Side of Manhattan has been the stomping grounds for European pushcart vendors, rebellious punk rock kids and, now, meticulously-groomed hipsters who troll its streets for Instagrammable scenes. And they can find it—and a flash of all of that New York history—in the grinds at Ludlow Coffee Supply.
The East Coast vs. West Coast skiing debate seems to surface every winter. Vermont vs. Vail. Stratton vs. Snowmass. But is there really any contest? We New Yorkers like to assume that we have — or are closest to — the best of everything, and we’ll proudly proclaim as much even as we slip down crowded icy slopes. The truth, of course, is that the Rocky Mountain range’s world-class skiing, breathtaking vistas and outdoor experiences are unparalleled in the U.S.
The British Virgin Islands pride themselves on not having "sold out" like the U.S. Virgin Islands. They like to keep it real, keep it pristine, keep hotels just a few stories high and cruise ships at a minimum. So when a new resort opened on the 230-acre Scrub Island in 2010, it was a hot topic.
When I told my family that I was going to Detroit, there was a resounding "Why?!" Shocked faces. Mumbles. A well-traveled friend simply said, "Eeew."
The media hasn't been too kind to the Motor City, so most people who haven't visited seem to assume it's a wasteland of abandoned buildings and zombie workers from old car factories.
Quintana Roo is still the land of the Maya, who are not some "ancient civilization"--many live in the area today. To help preserve some of the community's lost heritage, Xcaret (meaning "little inlet" in Maya) endeavors to preserve so much of Mexican culture from cuisine to religion to sport across its 200 coastal acres. The ancient Mayan world is still very much alive in Quintana Roo.
"I drink with guilt, so I feel guilty most of the time," goes the saying for tipplers like me with Irish and Jewish heritage. Good news for us, it's Negroni Week, a time for cocktails mixed with a bit of charity. So instead of tying myself in knots over a few indulgences, I'll tie a few on.
Seattle is renowned as the home of Kurt Cobain, the venti Frappuccino and depression-inducing drizzle (see: Cobain). But it's also home to the chillest cops in the nation, Eddie Bauer's iconic down jacket and a weird rivalry with Tacoma. Here are a couple of other Seattle secrets you may have never known.
Averting the crowded apple orchards and bumpy hay rides of autumn, I opted for a high-end weekend in Bucks County. This quaint corner of Pennsylvania is the very definition of the "country" to the proverbial "town," where New Yorkers, Philadelphians and others have come to escape their hectic workaday lives for over a century.
"I was here before all of the hippies and the yuppies showed up," my first Brooklyn landlord told me. My tiny space on the top floor of a decaying row house was my stake in the ground. Young and striving, I had something to prove. I could live on my own. In New York.