A Grand Opening at Tavern on the Green

 

The re-imagined Tavern on the Green has undergone a total re-do--I hardly recognized it--and I'm happy to report that the old New York City classic has been dusted off and shines merrily into the stratosphere. This new journey, after a brief closing, is modernized and vastly different, while still paying homage to its highly historied, deeply steeped past. And the environment actually feels like a cozy tavern now, and locavore cookery is helmed by Katy Sparks, some of which I sampled. I practically hyperpalpiventilated at the grand reopening; I was so overwhelmed and it is only on rare occasion that I am whelmed at all. Martha Stewart swooped past me, Regis Philbin was spotted at the bar and I chatted with the divine Fran Drescher by the stunning new fireplace. Ms. Drescher, currently starring in Cinderella is such an amazing, incredibly gracious lady who gently held my hand as we spoke together. It was a grand night for singing as well with legendary Marilyn Maye, who I have had the absolute pleasure to meet before. The jazzy songstress (who had the most appearances on Johnny Carson) held court in the shimmering, dangling lamp-lit courtyard, slaying the crowd with a few numbers accompanied by Billy Stritch at the piano. How we all longed for a few more songs--it was all brilliant. Later, as the bar that anchors the space became somewhat of a cabaret, I found the nerve to get up and sing with Billy Stritch as my accompanist and a fantastic trumpet player to send it all soaring. Imagine? I did pretty well and what a thrill--I floated all the way home in the cab! 

Bustling barmen pouring prosecco and creating cocktails for thirsty elbow-benders!

The chefs were hard at work too, of course, serving up a range of things including quail, smoked salmon and caviar, blue corn chips with guacamole and salsa and filet mignon from the open kitchen.



More cocktails poured, out of doors! What a swell party it was! Congratulations to Tavern on the Green and thanks to Hall PR for the invite!

Sing A Song

I wanted to write here about my experience singing in a Master Class taught by the incomparable, legendary Ms. Marilyn Maye but I dismissed the idea at first thinking it had nothing at all to do with my food blog. Then I thought this scribing does make sense: it's hardly a secret to the people who know me, that as much as I love to eat, I love to sing too and sometimes the twain do meet, on more than a few of my wine-eclipsed dinner parties--if music be the food of love, you know, sing on. But apart from these occasions, my penchant for piano bars and kick out of karaoke, I haven't sung on an actual stage in front of sober people or had musical training for 20 years, since I was in college! Until recently...

When a friend told me Marilyn Maye was teaching a 5-hour Master Class, I immediately signed up and sent in my deposit. I'd been feeling like I wanted to sing more, thinking about what I used to do, I guess, and here was a chance, a grand opportunity to present two songs and be critiqued by the legend. My feelings changed as I pulled, from a suitcase I'd first carried to New York, old sheet music imprinted with high-reaching notes I could no longer sing. I hadn't given a thought to an accompanist to practice with and when it was too late to do much about any of it, petrified as an old tree limb, I seriously wondered just what on earth I'd gotten myself into or rather, how to get myself out of it. Through various orchestrations too involved to go into here, I found and transposed some music I would bring and try to work with.

On the day of reckoning, there we all were: a schlub like me, in an intimate cabaret room full of pros, hopefuls, and auditors, assembled for a Master Class being taught by the great lady. As each took their numbered turn, mine growing ever closer, I discovered everybody had memorized all the words to their songs and seemed like they had performed them often. That didn't help. I. was. nervous. as. a. cat.

I hadn't eaten anything all day. I couldn't. I didn't dare. And all I'd consumed during the session was chamomile tea with honey, Ricola cough drops, bottled water and some chap stick that I'd rubbed on my lips so they wouldn't stick together from dry mouth.

But you know what? When it came my turn to perform, the old bones pulled together apparently, memory spurred, the voice rose up to a fair timbre. After I'd finished, Marilyn Maye was most complimentary to me, and added, as I resumed my seat, "make sure you tell your father that I love his son!" Imagine?

And suddenly, oh how I was full: full from having had the courage to try singing again as I'd thought about doing, wanted to do, hadn't dared to do, but did, steeling myself to the actual task; eyes full of brimming tears; and finally, realizing I was so full from having fed my soul.



What a thrill and absolute privilege indeed to meet the marvelous Marilyn Maye! Thank you, dear one!