nw3 to nyc

Observations on moving my family across the Atlantic

Category Archives: Shopping

Does not includr food shopping.


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In the land of the coupon

So, my take on coupon sites is that the company or organisation selling their wares at a discounted price want to drive new traffic to their business. Treat your new customer with their discount like a king (or queen) and you may get a loyal new customer who returns time after time without a discount. I think I may be being a bit naive here. My experience of the NYC coupon scene is varied, verging on poor and if you read Yelp reviews, I have to wonder why anyone bothers at all.

I’ve taken my $20 for $10 from Amazon Local to a deli to buy lovely smoked fish, bagels etc and been treated like I was trying to rob them and treated appallingly – I’ve not been back, but I did just find another discount there on another site, so I’ll try again, as the food was pretty good. Perhaps they were having a bad day?

I’ve been to the Science Museum out in Queens with my coupon and been treated beautifully, it made no difference to them. I forget I had this one and Amazon helpfully told me it was about to expire, so I could only use half of it in time – beware expiry dates.

I’ve been to my local pizza place, had to walk there and collect (yes, no delivery on this coupon, that was a mistake) and found my coupon code was not on their rag eared list so I had to rely on their largesse. I love their pizza anyway, so it was just a bit of a bonus – no need to get my loyalty, it’s already there Two Boots!

I would buy a coupon for a cheap massage or pedicure but quite frankly I wouldn’t dare. I don’t fancy being treated like crap because the staff think you are a cheapskate, not an experimental customer who may become a loyal customer, and given a terrible experience when such things should be an absolute pleasure. Check out Yelp to see what I mean.

I’ve just bought a Groupon (probably the most well known discount coupon site) to experiment at a vegan (yes, vegan) restaurant nearby that I’ve been curious about for some time but will never get R to visit.  I will lure him with cheap food and allow him to be as insulting as he likes about the lack of meat afterwards. Who knows, maybe we will become loyal customers and give up meat! Fat chance.


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It pays to tip well in New York

Every weekend I loyally go to Fairways for my weekly shop. It’s not quite as good as driving to Sainsbury’s, but I’ve got used to it. I started off by being really friendly to the staff, expecting them to comment on my accent and be nice back. But no, it doesn’t work like that, so I stopped bothering. The staff are helpful but not friendly, they all speak Spanish to each other and pretty much ignore you. On a more positive note they do pack your bags and offer a delivery service.

Today it was raining and cold. I did my thing, wandered around my usual circuit and expected no interaction. I was stunned when the guy who served me on the deli counter asked me if I was Australian or English. He must have served me dozens of times before and now he decides to be friendly and ask a question. The cheese guy corrects my pronunciation of Comte cheese and smiles. What is going on?

At the checkout I witness the woman at the checkout next to me having to justify the type of beans she has bought because the cashier won’t let her use her coupon. She says chick peas are not beans. Come on, give her a break, she wants to save 50 cents or something like that and they are giving her a hard time because it doesn’t say beans on the tin and she has six tins to get the discount. They are mean to her. Then my cashier starts giving me grief because my food is perishable they don’t want to risk delivering it. What? It’s cold outside and raining; they aren’t busy, they usually deliver pretty quick and I’m prepared to take the risk that my milk might go off. It won’t!  Urgh. My unusually pleasant experience is blighted by the perishable policy being invoked. I threaten to use Fresh Direct but they don’t seem to care. They take $85k a week in this store so my dollars are insignificant. I recognise the delivery guy and explain my plight. He says I tip the best in my building, so he’ll take my delivery straight away. It pays to tip well in New York.


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The power of TV

I am a big fan of Project Runway – or Project Catwalk it was called for the short time the UK version ran with Liz Hurley hosting and mangling her vowels. It’s another reality type TV programme, with a dozen designers all coming together to design various outfits based on various themes and each week one is eliminated until one wins the big prize at the end. A familiar theme. I’m very excited to watch the finale this week with my 7 year old who has also become a big fan and takes it very seriously. It has become increasingly commercialised over the  years with more and more brands included in the show and one in particular in this season’s show is Lord & Taylor. I’d never heard of them before, but they have a big presence on the show, they inspired a challenge and I was intrigued. So off I went to 38th and 5th Avenue earlier today, in the beautiful New York sunshine.

Lord & Taylor was established in 1826 and was the first department store to move to 5th Avenue. It’s a fairly large store with the usual cosmetics and accessories on the ground floor and then floors of clothes above. It was pretty quiet for a Wednesday which made the rows and rows of clothes look a bit lonely. I was particularly taken with the shoe displays, with reflective round tables beautifully showing the sparkly shoes to their best advantage. It was quite mesmerising, but I didn’t need shoes, so I tore myself away. Summer, must find summer gear, otherwise New York will be unbearable. New York is hot, hot, hot in summer and like most Brits, I have a minimal summer wardrobe because we have no summer. Lord & Taylor did me proud and with 25 per cent off everything in some random sale, I was in heaven. I did try to find a funky summer hat, but I appear to have an enormous head as none of them fitted. No runway for me then.


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Bargains, bargains

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A bit like TK Maxx but so much better. Century 21 immortalised in Sex and the City and still going strong. Despite its 80s facade and out of the way location up a side street near Fulton Street subway and close by to the 9/11 Memorial site, it is bargain heaven. It sells clothes and accessories over 5 floors and is rammed. I try to get served, which seems to be an art in itself, as I elbow my way past the thousands of tourists who seem to have heard about it too. I am on a mission to get a new pair of sunglasses. Fendi, Madam? Why yes, you can have last season’s sunglasses for $60 plus tax when they used to be $300. Some Michael by Michael Kors sunglasses retailing at $110 for $39.95 plus tax? Why thank you very much and yes, they do look fabulous.


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Bounty hunters

And can someone please tell me why New Yorkers are so obsessed with Bounty kitchen towel? Every time I walk down First Avenue there are the poor Fresh Direct delivery guys wheeling huge trolleys with massive multi packs of Bounty kitchen towel perched on top. When I am in Fairways, practically every trolley (except mine, of course) has a 6 or 9 or even 12 pack of them. I don’t get it.


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A hierarchy of gourmet

Gourmet must be the most overused word in New York. The corner shops selling everything claim to be gourmet, the pizza joints do the same. But there really is a hierarchy of food here. It starts with the independent deli, ubiquitous and fairly generic, selling sandwiches, bagels etc. Then there are the supermarkets, starting with Gristedes, which has been around since 1888 and here is open 24 hours, great for a quick in and out to get odds and sods. D’Agostino around since 1932 is ok, but a bit over priced. Morton Williams, founded in 1946, is similar but so tightly packed with goods it is a real challenge with a buggy, especially on Tuesdays when seniors get their ten per cent discount. My regular haunt is Fairways, huge, with great fresh produce and big on organic. The Food Emporium is similar, but I rarely go in as it is hidden by the horror of the Second Avenue subway construction works. I did go to Trader Joe’s once, out of my way, but as so many people had raved about it I went and had a look. I didn’t think it was anything special, especially the queues, so long they have someone specifically to indicate the end of the queue with a white paddle saying ‘end of the line’.

Then you change to the fancy specialist supermarkets cum deli shops. This is where the true meaning of gourmet comes to life. There’s Eli’s and its West Side relation, Zabar’s. Wonderful cheese counters, great on Jewish food but hefty on price – definitely treat territory. Agata and Valentina is a real favourite: mouth watering cakes and the best liquorice all sorts. There is also Citarella with its famous fish counter – don’t count on much change here.

And top of the hierarchy? It has to be Dean and Deluca. It is incredible. Located on Madison Avenue and very close to Central Park and the Met, its clientele don’t need to look at the prices. It has amazing cakes, bread and the best sushi I have had so far. Its white understated bags undersell quite how expensive and upmarket this place is. When you see the local private school girls buying their lunch here, you know you are in Gossip Girl territory. Best not go in with a credit card and a post run appetite, that’s for sure. Now that really is gourmet.


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24 hour Christmas

In search of the perfect Christmas tree in New York City. Having dismissed the Rockefeller Tree as a bit too big, we search for the slightly smaller one for our apartment. Down the avenues of New York are the tree sellers, lines of trees all standing slightly at an angle against wooden teepee style structures, snuggled up together, waiting to be claimed. Two days before Christmas and there are plenty to still to be had. We enquire about what time one of the bigger sellers shuts. We are stunned by his reply. “We don’t”. In the 24 hour city of New York you can even buy a Christmas tree at 4am.


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We don’t sell ducks

So I go into a well known toy shop and, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people and the pinkness of it all, I ask the sales assistant where can I find the dogs? She looks at me and says, ‘dogs? We don’t sell no dogs’. I counter this by saying, ‘yes, yes you do, dogs for the dolls, where are they?’ Looking at me like I’m being a bit irritating, she responds, ‘Ma’am, we do not sell dogs’. Exasperated at this point I resort to saying ‘dogs, things that go woof’. Success. ‘ah, over there. I thought you said ducks.’


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Tip top tipping

Or not as the case may be.  Tipping as something I do when in a restaurant, mostly taken care of by the bill coming with 10 – 15 per cent tip included and I don’t think too much about it. I’ll tip the cab driver, give the guy who delivered my paper in the sun, rain and snow at Christmas and that’s about it. In the US, and in particular here in New York, tipping is a way of life and it is expected.  I am told that the tip should generally be double the sales tax, which in New York is 8.875 per cent. This is fine if you have bought a service, like a meal, a cab ride, a pedicure etc. Confusion begins when there is no sales tax barometer to use. So what to give the guy who delivers my groceries on Sunday afternoon. I ask the doorman in my building and he is reluctant to advise when I ask, but comes up with 3-4 dollars. So I give the very pleasant delivery guy 4 dollars and he seems happy. I am typically British in my nervousness in not wanting to cause offence by getting the tip wrong but too embarrased to ask every time. I think it may take some time to work this one out. And most importantly, I must stop thinking that the tip is the place R likes to go on a Sunday afternoon with a car load of rubbish.


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Foot and mouth

I am amazed at the number of nail bars in our neighbourhood. I think there is one on every street. Why is this? I love a pedicure, even in Winter and am eying up the nail spa near our building but how do they keep going all year round? Same goes for eating places. I think there must be dozens of cuisines within a street or two. I see now why the realtor who showed us the flats (apartments now) said that New Yorkers don’t cook. I am more worried about putting on masses of weight due to the portion size. R was delighted to learn yesterday that you can get a half sandwich – which to any non American means a normal sized sandwich. We went to 40 Carrots in Bloomingdales at the weekend – chosen purely because of the name – and discovered frozen yoghurt ( check pronunciation before ordering to save blank looks). Horrible. Why would you do that to perfectly fine yoghurt? Our waitress, with her fabulous retro 50’s hair and carefully drawn on eyebrows, was called Betty. Perfect.  And of course, my favourite food place so far has to be ‘you don’t know nothing’ food and produce. Fabulous. Joey from Friends would be proud although probably hanging out in the ubiquitous Starbucks and not Central Perk which would have gone bust by now or taken over by the green mermaid.