After the revels of Valentine’s Day weekend, I mostly stayed at home save for a few catch-ups with friends. The highlight was definitely meeting Patti Smith and catching her CORRESPONDENCES exhibition before it ended.

2.19 I was pretty nervous memorizing pitches before attending my first agent mixer as a Columbia alumna, so I went to Buvette for a drink and steak tartare beforehand to get my iron levels up and loosen up a bit with a glass of Cabernet Franc. They give a pretty decent portion with enough bread, olives, and cornichons. I overheard the entire meet cute between the woman sitting next to me, who recently had to dump her boyfriend she had moved to New York to be with it, and the bartender who ended up taking her out to lunch the next day before her flight back to Korea.

I had a double espresso afterward and then got ready for the agent mixer. I had never been to Low Library before, but it’s pretty big. The food was however lacking compared to the platters at Bennington—unsure why the primary options were either chicken salad in ice cream cones, dumplings, or hummus. So I naturally stuck to Prosecco at the open bar. I fortunately ended up with many cards from interested agents, but it seemed to me like a lot of people were there to treat it like a reunion rather than a professional event. I declined the offer to go to 1020 after and went to sleep instead.

2.20 I mainly checked off a lot of small things off my ongoing to-do list before meeting Sahaj at Sunn’s. It’s a new Korean wine bar with offerings from Parcelle wine. We split the banchan of the day—although you’d typically never have to pay for it—and the famous tteobokki baked in a gochujang tomato sauce and stracciatella. It’s a cozy space, and while the food and orange wine were tasty, it felt pretty overpriced like most wine bars tend to be. I still had a pleasurable experience but wouldn’t rush back. We walked up the Lower East Side after and ended up at Cafe Mogador in the East Village for a nightcap.

2.21 I spent the afternoon writing at Gem Home and tried their mortadella pistachio sandwich. It was delicious but unsure how often I’d get it since it’s a bit pricy. I had a cup of genmaicha tea but wish their cups were a bit bigger. Then I met Zoe at kurimanzutto gallery in Chelsea and luckily the line wasn’t long at all for Patti Smith’s signing! She was a huge inspiration to me in high school after my poetry instructor at the Young Writers Workshop at Simon’s Rock recommended that I read her memoirs because my writing felt in conversation with hers. Sixteen-year-old me would have never believed I would end up giving her a copy of my Punk Rock Changed Our Lives zine, let alone getting my copy of Just Kids signed. Her exhibit was also really cool to see—a patchwork of ephemera, sweeping visuals, and voices talking throughout. It started to snow as we headed to Malatesta after. It’s a go-to affordable option when you find yourself in the West Village and the windows make up the atmosphere. On the way back to the train, we reminisced a lot about undergrad and unpacking memories we hadn’t thought about in forever which was much needed.

2.22 I had a salmon poké bowl from Hula Poke, a decent neighborhood spot, and Matt came over later that night. We made ribeye steak and sweet mashed potatoes the next day and finished Lost in Yonkers (1993). Then Matt gave into watching the Heartbreak Kid (2007) remake which wasn’t as bad as we expected but still questionable. After many other Neil Simon adaptations, we had Parmesan risotto and Italian sausage for dinner on Sunday with leftover sweet mashed potatoes.

2.24 It was surprisingly sunny out, so I made the trek to CVS on Broadway to pick up my vitamin D prescription—this Californian girl medically needs sun—and stopped by Hungarian Pastry Shop on my way back. It was crowded as usual, but I got a dreamy iced cappuccino and an almond croissant while I journaled for a bit. It’s always quite hectic in there—the guy who ended up sitting next to me was on the phone for a long time—but I listened to Rooney until my AirPods died.

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xoxo,
ashley