nw3 to nyc

Observations on moving my family across the Atlantic

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I am a former fat person

Now, like most women, I am conscious of my weight and as per my previous post am figuring out how to remain well and truly in my jeans whilst in New York. Puzzling over which cake to buy for J’s birthday we met a self confessed ‘former fat person’. I have never heard this phrase before. How is it possible to work behind the bakery counter and not eat the cake? She showed me how large her bakery clothes were and how she never wants to be that large ever again. We bought the smallest chocolate cake, munched on oatmeal cookie samples and I pondered on this vignette of New York life. The battle with food is a constant here.

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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.