Travel Blog

Growing up in New Jersey, I would sometimes take a bus into Manhattan, step out of Port Authority, and just wander for the day. It took me years to get into a museum because the streets were my museum – endlessly fascinating and educational. It was in New York that I developed my love of walking city streets.

Nobody counted steps back then but last Wednesday in Manhattan I did 14,000. Many of them were in pursuit of a place for lunch. Or, to be more accurate, the place for lunch. I have an ideal restaurant in my head – for all meals when traveling – and I always suspect that it’s right around the corner. This is workable in small towns, where options are limited; in New York, where places to eat almost outnumber pigeons, the search can be endless. And immensely annoying to companions. Hania wasn’t with me; hence the marathon.

It started at Rockefeller Center, where I asked a man if there was a good deli nearby. My heart was on a New York sandwich – corned beef, pastrami – in a bustling, well-lit place filled with New Yorkers.

He pointed me in the direction of a place called Toasties, which didn’t sound promising and wasn’t. It was full of office workers standing by a counter waiting to pick up their orders. I wanted sit down, so I walked out and headed down Madison Avenue, where I found more of the same. One deli was actually named Grab & Go.

I turned west into the theater district, making sure to stay east of Broadway and the tourist swarms. Here there were more takeaways, many of them Asian and interesting, but my hotel – in the vicinity – was fine for sleeping but not for eating. Occasionally I’d pass a nice restaurant – Greek, Italian – that was romantic and empty. Here I would have stopped had Hania been with me.

It was now after 1 pm and I was flagging. I remembered the Irish place next to my hotel, which I had heard the receptionist recommend to the couple who’d checked in before me.

It was dark but busy, and I was sat at a table close enough to its neighbors that I could eavesdrop. My waitress spoke with an Irish accent. My Reuben sandwich was perfect, just the right size, not overstuffed, and came with thick, crispy, delicious French fries. I was having lunch in New York, unquestionably, and it tasted even better because of the hike I’d taken to get to it.