My secrets keep finding their way into the pages of the New York Times. A couple of weeks back, I was dismayed to read an article on my stretch of Cortelyou Road, sure to elevate property values out of reach before my little nest egg even has a chance to hatch. And this past week, I felt a true sense of crisis reading of The City Reliquary, because I too have a collection of bottles from a certain Brooklyn beach, the exact location of which has long been my most closely held New York secret.
New York is a sports town, and our favorite sport of all is the disputatious lobbing of superlatives. We're obsessed with the best, and we'll tell you all about it, from the best way to get to Carnegie Hall (practice!) all the way to the best sandwich at Carnegie Deli (actually, the best sandwich in all New York is the banh mi at Sáu Voi Corp).
But there are some tidbits we won't share, for fear our secret pleasures will be spoiled when word gets out. Sure, there are a million stories in the naked city, but is the best story the one we'll never tell? Our PlantTherapist would have you believe that the whole city is just one big happy extended patio, so you tell me: is it better to keep our city's secrets, or to spill?
Photo credit: Shannon Holman