Central Park Leaves, photo by smalltowngirl

It’s not just New York that I miss, but then again, it’s probably never place, separate from the rest of life, that anyone misses. For the last two days, I’ve missed New York City with an aching, depressing, loneliness that only hits at the end of the day, when my guard is down, my mind is resting, and my heart takes control.

It’s not just the cold, windy streets of New York in November that I miss. It’s not just the feeling of the air on the day when a light jacket is no longer enough. It’s not just the weeks when the leaves disappear from the trees and orange leaves turn to brown that eventually becomes covered by snow. It’s not just the smell of the subway or the sound of my cowboy boots clunking against the concrete.

I miss more than that.

It’s not even just my yoga classes in the tiny, musty old basement of the YMCA in Greenpoint, even though those yoga classes brought me so much peace and clarity. It’s not just the long ride on the G train from Fort Greene to Long Island City to see the man who held me so close for so many months. And it’s not just the hot tea he’d fix me on cold winter nights when I arrived at his apartment, cheeks and nose reddened from the cold. It’s not just the two-eggs-and-cheese-on-a-kaiser-roll-and-a-coffee-with-cream-no-sugar that was my Friday morning street vendor breakfast tradition.

I miss more than that, too.

It’s not just the long walks on Sunday mornings, when Brooklyn was relatively still. It’s not just the dodgeball league I played on or my studio of piano students in Bensonhurst or my coworkers at the Garden. It’s not just the shortcuts I learned to take or the feeling of accomplishment that came from doing even basic things like laundry or grocery shopping in such a massive city. It’s not just the craftsman in Union Square or the dozens of great little shops in SoHo or the amazing wine bar in Fort Greene.

I miss everything about New York and what it represented in my life.

I miss that time when I was fresh back in the United States after twelve months studying Chinese and working and traveling in Asia. Nothing was too gritty, too real, too raw for me then. I miss my New York City love life and the man who loved me. I miss my tiny bedroom with my big window in my fourth story walk-up on my Cosby Show block in Brooklyn.

I miss the way I felt when I lived there; like the entire world was at my fingertips, and I could do anything. It felt like I was at the front edge of the world; of fashion, of finance, of the Arts…of pretty nearly everything.

So tonight I admit that for as much as I’m trying to love Missouri and seek out what’s beautiful and interesting and gritty and inspiring about this state, I miss New York City.  I still believe that the move back to Missouri was the right decision, but I miss New York with an aching throbbing loneliness that I don’t even know how to begin to address.

Kaldi’s is one of two coffee companies in St. Louis that I’m aware of that roasts its own beans (Northwest Coffee is the other). Kaldi’s also has delictable sweet treats and lots of vegetarian food options for full meals.

I ordered a black bean burrito and cozied into a table near a window, ready to upload and edit the 200+ photos I’d taken at work that morning in Shaw Park. When the barista called my name to give me my burrito, this is it said:

My Name is Not Alyssa, photo by smalltowngirl

For those of you who know me only as smalltowngirl or @milligfunk, I’ll fill you in on a secret; my name is not Alyssa.

That said, the coffee, the burrito and the cookie I got for desert (a giant one with chocolate chunks) were all good, and I really liked the no-wireless-internet, authentic-coffee-shop feel of Kaldi’s.

Kudos to local, independent businesses, even if they decorate their burritos with the wrong name.

In looking at Brooklyn blogs tonight, I found this one, talking about Brooklyn Botanic Garden, where I worked. There’s a photo and a short blurb about a 70 year old man who loves BBG and loves Facebook. It then talks about BBG’s Facebook Group, which I started. Something I did in my job at BBG created joy in the lives of this man and his wife.

Maybe I left my mark in Brooklyn, after all.

smalltowngirl at work at Brooklyn Botanic Garden, summer 2008

The proud small town girl in me would love to believe that the future of independent film is, indeed, in Caledonia, Missouri, as Purely Productions, LLC claims it to be.

This building in Caledonia (pop. 158) appears to be the Williamsburg loft of Southeast Missouri:

The Future of Independent Film, photo by smalltowngirl

What kind of independent film company makes its home in a tiny Missouri town?

What kind of business has a posterboard business sign?

Maybe a smart one. The cost of living here is super low, and low overhead theoretically means more resources devoted to projects and less to paying the rent.

These guys have me curious…

Posterboard Sign, photo by smalltowngirl

The company’s website shows a small cast and crew who produced six short films in six months, but I couldn’t find any clips on YouTube. Does anyone out there know more about Purely Productions, LLC? Leave me a comment.

The coffee shop is lovely, with refreshingly happy and down to earth staff (no snobbish yuppy baristas here). There is a quirky turquoise mural of a tree with white flowers blossoming on the wall, and mismatched (but coordinated) upholstery covers high-backed chairs.

The pear and brie sandwich I had for lunch was lovely (fair warning though – it was onion heavy, though the onions were raw and easily removable). The iced mocha wasn’t bad either. Foundation Grounds gets brownie points for using biodegradable plastic cups, made from corn.

In the cold case, I found Kambucha, organic juices, Honest Tea, and Stonyfield Farm yogurt – a fairly forward-thinking collection of foods and drinks for this part of the country.

To top off my visit to Foundation Grounds, I overheard someone speaking Mandarin Chinese, and turned to find a husband and wife speaking Chinese to one another. The husband, a St. Louis-born acupuncturist and his wife had just moved back to St. Louis three days ago from years in Seattle and Asia.

His Chinese was far more fluent than my own (embarrassingly rusty) Chinese is, but it was so uplifting to meet another person who has moved back “home” to this part of the country after seeing the world in hopes of contributing something to the communities we grew up in.

Today’s coffee shop encounter is a reminder that when things happen (like servers crashing), there’s often something better in store. It’s been a rough last week for me, but with my hope and optimism restored, I’m looking forward to what the rest of this week holds.

Plants, photo by smalltowngirl

I’m a big fan of local produce and homemade foods, so I was excited when the Farmington Farmers Market opened this spring. The market has grown over the past few years, and this spring, there are 10-12 vendors who regularly come out to sell plants, eggs, jellies, soaps, and more. 

Always outgoing, and a curious girl to boot, I chatted up several of the farmers at the market on Saturday, April 25th. Carl Pruetzel and his wife, Sue, were selling baked goods, jellies and jams, and a variety of plants (cabbage, etc.) from their own C&C Farms. Over the several minutes that I talked with Carl, I heard about he and Sue’s travels abroad during his career, and about their retirement and farm in Southeast Missouri.

If you stop by the market, try Sue’s strawberry jelly. It’s sweetened the whole wheat bread I’ve been buying at Olde Tyme Pantry for morning toast on most weekend mornings this May.

Carl & Sue Pruetzel of C&C Farms, photo by smalltowngirl

Mickey & Betty Caughron, who farm in Valles Mines, Missouri make home made soaps for sale at the market. Mickey & Betty and I found common ground over their daughter’s experiences living and working in Asia. 

Mickey & Betty Caughron, photo by smalltowngirl

Another vendor was selling fresh eggs. I’m a huge fan of the brown eggs at Olde Tyme Pantry, so while I haven’t bought any at the Farmers Market, I’m tempted to pick up a dozen duck eggs sometime. The woman sellling the eggs claims that duck eggs are superior to chicken eggs for baking. As often as I bake, I’ll have to do a blind taste test sometime using duck eggs.

Duck Eggs, photo by smalltowngirl

The Farmington Farmers Market is open on Saturdays from 7-11 a.m. and Wednesdays from 2-5 p.m and is located on Karsh Boulevard in the parking lot of the Farmington VFW Hall. 

Farmington Farmers Market, photo by smalltowngirl

Black rod-iron railings line the second and third floor balconies of buildings, and gardens and courtyards hide quietly between houses. Soulard is one of the only neighborhoods in St. Louis where you can truly park your car and hop between restaurants, galleries, venues and bars. 

Lunch was at McGurk’s. 

Before I go any further, I need to say how much I wish I hadn’t chickened out on taking my camera out with me yesterday. Pictures would really help in capturing the feel of Soulard.

We sat on the back patio at McGurck’s. The Patio was large, with a fountain in the center that’s turned to a fire ring when the weather is cooler. This photo belongs to Metromix St. Louis, and is actually taken the table we sat at during lunch.

Photo Credit Metromix St. Louis

After lunch, we headed to Washington Street for an emerging musicians street festival, but the music wasn’t playing and the crowd wasn’t hoppin’ when we arrived. On a whim, we headed to City Museum instead, and had what was probably the most fun I’ve had in years. Stay tuned for a full blog about that.

After the museum, we found ourselves back in Soulard at a street festival/block party that seemed to be sponsored by The Riverfont Times. $20 at the door bought live music until midnight and all the cajun food and Budweiser Select you could eat/drink. 

Soulard had an energy and a self-pride that made me think of neighborhoods I’ve lived in in other cities. It felt great to get out of small town, MO for the day and hang out in urbanland. For another nice blog on Soulard, go here.

I attended an alumni event last week for my organization’s summer campers and camp staff at Cicero’s on Delmar, and I spent the hour before the event wandering the neighborhood.

More than one storefront boasted the naming of Delmar as “One of the Ten Best Streets in America” by the American Planning Association.

All photos by smalltowngirl

The APA says this of their Best Streets/Great Places awards:

APA Great Places exemplify exceptional character and highlight the role planners and planning play in creating communities of lasting value.

It’s nice to see one St. Louis’ more interesting neighborhoods recognized nationally.

When I step out of my “NY vs. MO” mindset, I can grant Delmar Blvd. the hipster and diversity kudos it works hard to earn, although I have to admit that the area felt a little sterile to me after life in NY.

(Look closely, and you can see the Delmar Blvd street sign reflecting in the window of Rag-o-Rama)

Shops like Ragorama and Vintage Vinyl (named one of the country’s best indie music stores by Rolling Stone), bar/restaurants like Blueberry Hill (whose owners are responsible for much of Delmar’s development), and venues like The Tivoli call out “cool” to me.

(Check out the pink Vintage Vinyl bumper sticker on the backside of the crosswalk signal in the upper right corner of the shot)

Places on Delmar like the Panera Bread Company are too St.-Louis-Shopping-Mall-esque for my liking. I like malls, but I don’t want to feel like I’m in one when I’m walking a city street. Panera started in St. Louis as “The St. Louis Bread Company”, and for years, you would see it called Panera on the East Coast and “St. Louis Bread Co.” in the Midwest.

Now I’m reminiscent for Panera’s brazen St. Louisness. Somehow the bagels stopped tasting as good in St. Louis when the store changed its name to Panera here. (A rose by any other name, is, indeed, not as sweet, Mr. Shakespeare.)

I hope that some of the parts of Delmar Blvd that strike me as wealthy, sterile and overdeveloped will mellow and gain chracter with age. Still, Delmar is one of my favorite spots in the city, even after 10 years away, and I agree with the APA that Delmar Blvd adds “lasting value” to the city of St. Louis. I just hope that in time, it gains the grit and urban texture of some of the world’s most famous city neighborhoods.

The funky title can’t rain on my parade though. I just had an exciting hour-and-a-half phone meeting with our web designer, who is bright and knowledgeable, and living in the St. Louis neighborhood I didn’t know existed (but that I’m head-over-heels in love with).

There is a bit of Brooklyn in St. Louis. Check it out:
Old North St. Louis

This neighborhood is essentially a renovation district, and while it’s still in its building phase, I can’t express to you how excited I am to see a real community in St. Louis proper.

From what our web designer told me, most of the buildings here had become very, very run down. The homeowners’ restorations are labors of love. Check out this blog about the restoration of a home that was missing an entire wall.

Another website, seemingly dedicated to property sales in the area, has some great photos of the commercial district (under renovation) in the neighborhood.

And on my “Must-See, Must-Eat, STL” list? Crown Candy Kitchen, an ice cream shop and restaurant founded in St. Louis in 1913.

My car accident brought on a lot of “I miss New York” sentiments for me, and honestly, I spent my weekend pretty down in the dumps. Having my eyes opened to this St. Louis neighborhood has, thankfully, lifted my spirits.

Yay, St. Louis!

MO and NY = TIED.

Among Brooklyn’s most well-known eateries is Almondine, a patisserie in DUMBO known for it’s baguettes and pastries.

When the ex-boy called to see if I wanted to get together one last time before my move, it seemed like a good opportunity to check out Almondine.

(@andrearosen gets a mini-credit for unintentionally inspiring this trip with a tweet this morning about Almondine’s stuffed pretzels.)

The food was tasty. I had tomato and spinach soup, a grilled vegetable sandwich, and some sort of blue cheese that tasted great broken up into my mixed greens salad.

For desert, Jeff and I split a coffee and a fruit eclair that vaguely resembled a footlong sub, only in miniature and with fruit, not deli meat. As good as the real food was, the eclair kind of made me wish we’d just skipped lunch and gone straight for sharing deserts.

I can now cross Almondine off my NYC to-do, to-see, to-eat list. While I don’t think that St. Louis is without good bakeries, I would guess that this one is a notch above, so the final score on Almondine:

NY = 1; MO = 0.

Empty coffee cups at Almondine
Photo by smalltowngirl

***

On the bright side, my ex doesn’t live in Missouri, so I won’t have to make decisions about whether to see him once I’m gone. Every time I see him it gets a little easier, but it’s still awfully hard. On the ex-boy front, the score is:

NY = 0; MO = 1

***

As an addendum to the “I like your boots” story, I owe MO an apology for under-estimating its supply of cobblers.

My mother kindly informed me that my hometown has a large shoe repair and boot shop now. I no longer feel pressured to have my boots fixed before I leave town.

Thanks, Mom!
NY = 1; MO = 1

***

And, finally, I’ve been assuming that MO would get the cow credit over NYC. How wrong I was.

This photo, taken on our walk back from DUMBO today, is evidence that this midwest ain’t the only cow country ’round these parts. Where cows, go, I’m sure rural MO will have more real ones, but I have to give NYC a point for trying…

NY = 1; MO = 1smalltowngirl with cow
Brooklyn, NY
Photo by the ex-boy