Hello! Day 2 of the Great Escape included the opportunity to head to Little Italy for the Feast of San Gennaro. Wikipedia tells me that this has been a thing since the 20s, but it’s only the second time I have been. Today’s excursion did not disappoint. In my 20+ blocks of wandering! I heard some Italian opera and some mandolin music. I watched the assembly of a 12 foot cannoli. I walked past every combination of pasta, sauce, meat, and cheese, and avoided drooling onto anyone directly. I also bought a ravioli cutter and a tiny cheese grater to replace one I recently smashed. The greatest thing I ate was an Italian sub with spicy sausage and grilled peppers and onions. And I hate actually eating onions, but I ate every single bite, while listening to the proprietor tell stories about the old neighborhood, and the time he sold his Honus Wagner baseball card for 2.1 million (this is truth-he pulled the newspaper clipping from the record sale out of his wallet-the clipping included his picture.
I have about 84,000 pictures of food from the day, but for some reason WordPress isn’t letting me upload them just now. Hang in there, and for a sneak peak, follow me on Instagram at RaineanneMKE.
Post festival is where the title of this post comes in. After cultivating patience for a few hours in the sardine-packed crowds, I needed some air and to sit down. I headed for Washington Square Park (always a favorite), which should have been a ten minute walk, but was more like forty minutes, as I got lost three times (food coma setting in) and wandered into the most amazing vintage shop where I bought an authentic Burberry scarf for 20 bucks (score!) and a little retro apron with a butterfly. The second purchase drew the attention of some fantastic fellow-vintage shoppers who pronounced me “Suzy Homemaker” and set about finding me the perfect mid sixties dress to go with it. They were successful, but at a price point of 100.00, it stayed on the rack. But I do love SoHo.
Finally made it to the park sat down against the fountain, and enjoyed the cool spray on my face and arms. The day was swinging between fall crispness and late summer swelter, and I was roasting in jeans and boots at this point. At some point I got tired of being wet, and crossed to the wide stone benches, where I stacked up my bags, leaned back…and totally passed out. One hundred percent by accident. In my defense, it was mid food coma, it was getting cloudy, and it was 4pm. 4pm is when I need to fight every day to keep from passing out on my desk at work. 4pm to me is what 4am is to most folks-prime sleep time. So, I had no shot, basically. On the plus side as soon as I snapped awake and realized what had happened (I slept a good 25 minutes), I was comforted by the sight of a similar woman (in age, dress, and shopping bags) similarly sacked out on the bench next to mine. Clearly, nap time.
Refreshed by my power nap, I spent the next hour or so exploring the Strand bookstore, taking note of titles I’ll take out of the library, and limiting my spending to a copy of Faulkner short stories. Footsore and explored out at this point, I took the subway home. Oh, NYC. You are so loved.