Big Sal at the corner bodega told me the “Big Apple” was just a small time crabapple until it got in cahoots with the Gangs of New York, and badda-bing badda-boom, someone’s all of a sudden a big-time mascot with a theme song from a local boy named Frankie. I don’t ask questions but something smells like the South Street Seaport in that story!
Sinatra had it right, if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere. And by “there” he meant “a table at that new impossibly cool restaurant”, apparently the latter didn’t go as well with the music?
New York is a city where food is king, shopping is queen, and the bars make jesters out of us all. So don’t fear the concrete jungle, conquer it in style!