Beach Camping, Fire Island.

For a Minnesota transplant, successful adaptation to New York summers requires the location of water.  Coney Island?  Brighton Beach?  They’ve got their perks.  But I’m dreaming of remote locales, the kind without cell service.  Ahh, beach camping.  New York’s antidote to summer city life.  Jump on Long Island Rail Road, catch the Watch Hill Ferry, grab yourself a permit, and hike a few miles with a couple a pals and jumbo liters of water.  In a big country/dreams stay with you/like a lover’s voice…

lady camping

The Warm Up

MoMA provides audio and visual inspiration on summer Saturdays at its Queens outpost, P.S. 1.  The Warm Up is, quite simply, a spectacular public party.  It grants access to fine exhibitions; incredible D.J.s; an expansive outdoor dance floor; and essential but austere food and beer.  Observing the crowd during a recent visit from Minnesota, my best friend admitted, “Wow, people in New York really do have cooler sunglasses than people in St. Paul.”  Yep, that might be true.

so warm it's hot.

Bike Cruisin NYC

My God, have I gotten ballsy on my bike.  Two years ago I was terrified to ride Prospect Park.  Now I’m slinking around adjacent side-view mirrors and whizzing through stalled Midtown traffic.  A bit reckless?  Yeah, definitely.  Here’s a clip I replay in my mind when I’m being bad on my bicycle.  

Get the Kunik. Get it mad quick, yo.

Nettle Meadow (say that one time fast!) is a local-ish New York farm that invented the best kind of cheese there is: the Kunik.  Their website describes Kunik as “a voluptuous triple creme.”  Mmm, yeah baby.

Let’s break that down: Kunik is a “white mold-ripened wheel made from goat’s milk and Jersey cow cream. The blend makes Kunik far richer and more flavorful than a brie-type cheese yet more subtle and sumptuous than similarly ripened goat cheeses.”  Hell yes.  And did you see they’re doing a farm tour and tasting in October?  Those goats make me laugh.

a goat named Kunik.

crazy voluptuous cheese.

Graduating to the Train

I was flat broke after a few months in New York.  I’d quit that dull law job and expired my savings to relocate.  Traded it for a love affair with the Big City.  It was a romance so pure, so consuming, I took up board in a convent and squeaked by on $800/month.

Anyway.

Newly lonely and with family in D.C. I became a frequent customer of Bolt Bus and Vamoose.  Prided myself on frugality.  One expedition suffered a debilitating flat; another was stranded 8 hours on the turnpike.  But at $50 round-trip, who could beat it?  Four years later, I’m not quite rich, but suckaaahs! I graduated to Amtrak.  On this one-way rail cruise to my cousin’s wedding in Baltimore, I’m livin large!  First stop: Newark.

Apple/Sauce: Big Apple v. Mini Apple

I’m snobby about what’s good.  There, I said it.  My (midwestern) parents tell me it’s unattractive but, “Hey!” I say, “I don’t often lead friends astray.”  I’m from the Minneapolis side of the river and live in hipster-turned-30 Brooklyn.  No, not Park Slope.  Carroll Gardens.  Remember? I said I’m snobby about what’s good.

Carroll Gardens, yep it's in there.

Figs of Summertime

What really gets me going?  Figs.  Just picked up a spawn at Union Market.  These little buddies just won’t grow in climates that consistently fall below 0 degrees.  Damn these suckers look big. I’ve got a tree in my backyard.  You know what it grows?  Yeah: figs.

juicy.

Here’s what you do:

1. Get yourself some figgys, cut ’em in half;

2. Slather some brie on your sourdough;

3.  Combine.

Breakfast. Is. Served!