Yesterday was one of those days. I was sort of down in the dumps, and that is so not my style, n’est-ce pas? John refers to me his as little amped-up Pollyanna, and I usually wake up every day and say, “Hello, world.” But, yesterday, I felt peevish. And for no reason. Frankly, I like being peevish every once in a while, it helps to work out the kinks.
If I am in New York City and have one of these “mean reds” days, I hightail it straight to the Grand Central Oyster Bar for a late-afternoon lunch at one of the horseshoe-shaped, throwback counters. Lunch at the Oyster Bar quickly soothes my cares and woes. I take a seat at the counter manned by the lovely Irishwoman Mary Mac and ask for the sandwich menu and promptly order a cool glass of a Marlborough Sauvingon Blanc.
By the time my oyster po’boy sandwich has arrived and my wine half consumed, I have lapped up the old New York vibe and ogled both the crowds and the fabulous Guastavino tiled arches that hover overhead.
For Audrey Hepburn it was breakfast at Tiffany’s. For me, it’s a boozy lunch at the Oyster Bar. Next time you are in NYC, beeline it for the Oyster Bar. But skip the dining room, and saddle up to the lunch counter. It’s a true treat!