New York is so big. Then there’s the Bronx.
My late dad grew up there. Yesterday was his birthday.
This is a borough I know nothing about. Oh, I’ve been to the zoo and the Botanic Garden. But that’s different.
To get an authentic feeling about a place you need to walk its streets, see its people, and, most of all, eat its food.
Which is why I boarded the D train Friday bound for Arthur Avenue. I’d always wanted to go.
This part of the Bronx is old school, a New York I remember from childhood, when we lived in Queens. Pre-war apartment buildings, an occasional clapboard house, open windows.
When I got to the Arthur Avenue Retail Market, I found Mike’s Deli and the counter women who were very enthusiastic when asked about the best chicken sandwich they could recommend. A cutlet with fresh mozzarella and roasted peppers? I was in! Add a cappuccino, which I sipped while I ate and listened to a couple of gents speaking in Italian next to me. I could not believe how easily I’d discovered my new happy place.
Oh, did I mention how Mike gave me a lesson in how to “bathe” my mozzarella?
After, I walked the avenue and bought a pound of espresso, as well as chocolate from Piemonte at Cerini Coffee and Gifts, and breads with prosciutto and olives at Addeo Bakers. Last stop was Madonia Brothers Bakery for chocolate lace Florentine cookies. My bag was brimming. I had to cut myself off so I could haul the load home.
On the way to the subway, a mother and small child were dancing to music at an outdoor barbeque.
I love these summer days, when I get to be a tourist in my hometown.
Happy Birthday Dad. I salute your roots.