Another Year Older & Quite Possibly Wiser...Maybe

I have control issues. If you know me well, you are probably nodding your head. I know how I got them (ahem, Dad) but I don't know how to get rid of them. They manifest most obviously when Mike tries to plan something. (I am imagining more nodding from close friends). You see, I am nothing if not a planner. I research meticulously. I leave no stone unturned. I make sure every detail has been attended to. Whether it is a big vacation or just dinner plans, I want to make sure that we have a perfect experience. Logically I know that there is no such thing as perfection, after all, even the best laid plans, blah, blah, blah. But that doesn't stop me from trying. And who am I doing it for? Do you think Mike is going to be let down if the food didn't make him see fireworks or the hotel's complimentary breakfast didn't actually have waffles? Nope, it's me that is disappointed when something minor goes awry. When you spend so much time reading up on a destination, reviewing, comparing, and in general, daydreaming about what you'll do, you've already created this unattainable, in all likelihood, expectation of how things will play out. I really don't know how to kick this compulsion for coordination, this dependence on deliberate preparation, so we have learned to deal with it through trial and error. Mike would say I've gotten better at going with the flow and at just enjoying the moment, but I still fall off the wagon every now and then. And like any family that has dealt with addiction knows, it's usually the supportive loved ones who suffer the most. I in no way mean to diminish true addiction, just intend to highlight Mike's saintliness for putting up with what is sometimes impossible behavior on my part.

Birthdays are never easy for him and I'm sure I don't need to explain why. We have recently come to the agreement that for special days it's okay for me to just tell him what I want to do and it's okay for him to just do it. While it may lack romance, pomp and circumstance, we both know I am getting what I want and he doesn't have to try to decode let alone choreograph my idealized vision of how things should play out. This was our first time putting the new agreement into action and since my birthday fell on a Saturday, we decided that I could plan my ultimate day in Manhattan and that would be that. No compromising about where to go, what to eat, what to drink, basically the perfect gift for me because not only did I get to plan, but I was the only person I had to consider when making choices. (If you are cringing at my blatant selfishness and boorish behavior, I can only say in my defense that the vast majority of the time, I am not a monster, just on special occasions that will be forever remembered...and tainted). My plans were fairly simple, a relaxed day doing the things I enjoyed, a little eating, a little shopping, and a little cooking. We kicked off the day around 11 with my favorite pain au chocolat (chocolate croissant) at Amy's Bread on Bleecker. We wandered around and out of the Village into SoHo about an hour early for our afternoon lunch reservations at Mercer Kitchen. So we meandered a little more until we came upon Lusso, a contemporary Italian cafe that had an interesting Italian craft beer menu. We shared a bottle of Baladin Nora, a refreshing brew with a floral aroma and a juicy citrus flavor. As our server delivered the check, she also placed a small tray of crostini topped with chicken liver pate, frisee and a drizzle of honey in front of us, just because. The pate was delicious, but there was WAY too much of it. They could have used about a third of what was on there and it would've been perfectly balanced with the other elements. It reminded me of when you eat a bagel that has so much cream cheese on it that it squirts out the sides and through the center when you bite into it. What is with the tendency to pile cream cheese on bagels? Are we in a cream cheese surplus? I don't know about you, but I like my bagel to be flavored with cream cheese, not my cream cheese to have a hint of bagel. Regardless, it was a nice little treat and with that, we were ready to eat for the third time that day.

I was really looking forward to Mercer Kitchen, which is part of the Jean Georges Vongerichten restaurant empire. If you are not an insane foodie, Vongerichten is arguably one of the world's most famous chefs and successful restaurateurs. We ate at another of his restaurants, JoJo, for our anniversary and were very pleased. I could go into extreme detail about our experience there, but I won't bore you. The food was good (spring pea soup and a tuna wasabi pizza for me, soft shell crab and a lamb sandwich for Mike), but I wasn't impressed. The service was less attentive than I would've expected for a Jean Georges enterprise and the food was good, but didn't blow me away. I was disappointed in the sense that it didn't live up to the hype, but not in the sense that it ruined my day, it was still a great meal. (See, I am not a total beast and people CAN change).

After lunch, we walked the few blocks to my school where I took Mike on a brief tour, and we ran into Chef Nic, who I think took a minute to recognize me in street clothes. I guess when you are used to seeing someone with hair tucked away, no makeup and drenched in sweat, it's difficult to make the association right away. From there we headed to the Bowery, which is the restaurant and kitchen supply district. I had a great time stocking my kitchen with fun new tools: a mandoline for precise slicing and cutting, a fine mesh chinois for straining stocks and sauces, a new saute pan, a candy/deep frying thermometer, plus some rings and squeeze bottles for creating fancy plates. If you are in the market for quality kitchen gear, I urge you to find a restaurant supply store in your city (any major city will have one). The quality is comparable to what you would find at Williams Sonoma and it is a fraction of the price. Granted, there are no pretty colors and beautiful displays, but you are saving a ton of money.

From there, we made a few stops for provisions for dinner and then headed home to prepare homemade gnocchi and a caprese salad. We spent part of the evening in Washington Square people watching and then tucked ourselves in pretty early for the surprise Mike had planned for me on Sunday. I imagine some of you are scratching your heads wondering why Mike would even attempt to plan something for me when we agreed that it was not necessary and knowing the potential for Emily the Barbarian to rear her ugly head. Some of you might even be trying to warn him against it even though you know it's too late and he can't hear you. Believe me, I tried. I told him that I loved him and that he really didn't have to do anything because I know how difficult I can be. But he insisted. I'm not sure if it was because I had already had my day or because I had no idea what we were doing, but I was relaxed about it. I know some of you have got to be thinking "Really?! Wow, good for you being relaxed about someone doing something really nice for you. You should get an award for your efforts". But I know you are probably just as crazy in some other way that I'm not, so be nice.

Anyway, Mike had packed our wine backpack (you know the one with the plates, wine glasses, blanket all conveniently rolled into a backpack?) with quite a spread. He then told me he needed to run a quick errand and that he would call me when he was ready. When he called I should bring the backpack with me and meet him downstairs. I figured we were probably going to Central Park to catch a free concert or something like that. A few minutes later, I get the call and I head downstairs to meet him. I am waiting on the sidewalk in front of our door and he is nowhere to be found. A few cabs pass by and I begin to wonder if he is hiding somewhere watching me. As I'm staring up the street, I hear a horn honk behind me and I turn around and there is Mike in a Mini Cooper. Being a rocket scientist, I realize we are heading out of town and I think I know where. I clap my hands in glee and jump in beaming. He looks at me and says, ready to do some wine tasting? YES!!! We are headed to Long Island's North Fork to sample some of the local wines and have a picnic. I am so excited and surprised, I just keep looking at him smiling. He is smiling, I am smiling, we are one big smile on wheels. He knows he nailed it and he knows I will never underestimate his planning ability again. It's like he slayed a freakin' dragon or at the very least that monkey on his back. He recounts the entire planning process for me: the pitfalls, the triumphs and we smile some more. I know this may sound ridiculous to some of you, but this was huge for me. You know how they say (whoever they are) that people show love in the way they want to receive it? Well, when I plan a secret surprise tour of all your favorite breweries and all your friends are in on it and I stay up all night making lunchboxes for everyone, well maybe I want you to do something like that for me. And he did. Everything was flawless. The drive was gorgeous. The weather was a perfect 78 degrees with brilliant blue skies. We never got lost, everything we went to was open for business and the winery we picnicked at even had a band that was playing all of our favorite songs, like some strange soundtrack just for us.



We stopped at a farm stand for some corn, squash and green beans then drove down a country road to a white sand beach and waded in the very warm waters of Little Peconic Bay.



When I realized that the day Mike had planned completely topped the day I'd planned, I learned a valuable lesson. Perfection is possible, but it can't always be achieved by calculated design. It comes when you embrace the adventure and see the bumps and hiccups as part of the beauty of the fabric instead of as flaws. Mike may argue that the design of the day was very calculated which led to its success. But I think the most important thing I realized was that it's okay to let go and let someone else take the reins. Apparently, he still has some tricks in his bag.