I had never been to Coney Island before. This doesn't seem so odd on the face of it, many people have not been to Coney Island. The oddness of this fact though became more evident as I drove past my grandparent's apartment on the way to Coney Island, the apartment they had through all of my formative childhood years right next door in Sheepshead Bay. It would only be a slight exaggeration to say that we could have walked to the amusement park from their apartment. (I'm not sure why they never took me, I'm going to have to bring that up with my mom.)
Our plan was simple: spend a day at Coney before Disney gentrifies the thing ruining the charm. The aquarium would also come into play, as it was heralded by Fodors as being on par with Monterey's aquarium. (And that's something I'm going to have to take up with Fodors.)
We arrived at about 1pm on Sunday (after, I should add for continuity, stopping for bagels in West Nyack), with the aquarium open for three-and-a-half more hours, and took a leisurely stroll around the place. In the world of aquariums, it feels a bit underwhelming to me, a bit dark and grey where some others are brighter and more festive. We did get to see a walrus up close, which is nice, because I don't think I've ever seen one before. They're like cars with faces and flippers.
After we had enough of the aquarium, and after we dodged the sudden-onset storm by hiding in our car for a bit we hit the boardwalk proper where we wandered a bit, and then bought a sausage and pepper hero (in the most food-poisioning-inducing chafing pan you can imaging) an order of fries and several unpleasant tasting drinks from one of the few early-season vendors that were open. (Our plans to go to Nathan's were spoiled by Nathan being off somewhere, presumably playing golf.)
The seagulls were fascinated by our meal, and we gave them a good portion of it as it wasn't terribly good, and watching birds snag pieces of fry out of the air is quite amusing. As ominous clouds pushed down the boardwalk, so did we, heading to the Brighton Beach portion of the neighborhood. Language changed from English to Russian, faces seemed to get harsher and more Slavik. Clouds thickened and darkened, and we took refuge inside a russian restaurant. Tables were set with beige cloths and teal napkins, and the smattering of patrons seemed an ethnic mix that would defy classification. A possibly Italian man wooed a woman with a bottle of something sparkling while a table full of older Russian-Americans ate a feast of foods ranging from fish to brisket. Our waiter, who I'm guessing is something like Ukranian, sported one of those bottom-half beards that only slavs can get away with, and really only just barely. His command of English was so poor that I had to point at the entry for "Russian Pancakes with Jam and Sour Cream" so he could look at the Russian spelling of it. (Which was the primary spelling, btw, English was on the right half of the page.)
Abby and I chowed down on our Blintzes and then headed back up the boardwalk to extract our car from the aquarium parking lot before they closed for the day. I got a sudden urge to head to Chinatown for some teas for the chocolates I've been making, so we rode up Ocean Parkway to the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel (something else I've never been to before) and soon found ourselves in a line of traffic on Canal street that made me insane. We bailed on Chinatown, leaving the entire population of NYC, or so it seemed, to fight for dangling roast chickens and elephant tusk powders.
Instead we decided to head to Edgewater, where two of our favorite grocery stores live. The first, Mistuwa is a Japanese grocery extravaganza filled in every inch with products that I don't recognize in packaging that's bizarre. I love it there. We bought some deserts and walked around shopping while eating them, following them with these triangle little rice cake snacks (Ohnigiri) that one puts together in a little construction project.
As a result of this shopping experience, I now have several sticks of fish cakes, which might be one of my top five favorite things to eat. Bologna of the sea, fish cakes grace many a Japanese soup, and a dinner entree in my house in the near future. Where else but a Japanese market can one buy broiled eel, pickled radish, red bean cakes and Saki at the same time as buying toilet paper? There are so many good things to buy there that I run around grabbing stuff off the shelf as if I were in one of those 30-minute shopping spree game shows. I'm sure I attract some sort of attention. "Look, there's that gaijin buying chunks of tuna."
After Mistuwa we dropped in on Whole Foods and (while still digesting Ohnigiri and green tea) assembled the things necessary for mussels steamed in a white wine and garlic cream sauce. This of course required a bag of those bake-em french fries that I SHOULD be able to make myself, but are so much better when they come precut in the bag that it's almost worth a food cost that's twice as high as a potato.
Back at home, finally, after a day of driving circularly around NYC, we finally sat down to yet another meal, mussels, thick bread, salad and those fries. Oh those fries. Sure it was probably 100 miles of driving and a bit of guilt for dispatching shellfish to their grave, but worth it. How often does one get to have more than a half dozen ethic or regional meals in a day?
Before last month, I had also never been to Coney Island. I agree with Fodor's that the Brooklyn Aquarium is on par with Monterey. Both are good but neither are great. I prefer the Boston Aquarium, then the Baltimore Aquarium.
It was too cold and rainy (and winter) to walk the boardwalk when we were there, so we'll go back this summer. Our zoo membership gets us in free.
Posted by: Foster Bass | March 27, 2006 at 05:40 PM