We know a charming and brilliant woman who had the audacity to leave the city just as we had plans to fully incorporate her into our family. Our field trip today happened because of an email she sent in response to the post about the Pysanky eggs:
Listen, I was looking at your blog, and I have to tell you -- and Judd the Red Chicken -- that pysanky are MY thing. They can be his thing too; heaven knows there are enough eggs to go around, but anyway, there are a ton o' Ukrainians in Saskatchewan, where I come from, probably because it looks so much like Siberia and they felt at home there. So I had a number of friends whose bubbies boiled up the dyes come February/March and I had lessons at the hands of old Ukrainian matriarchs (who could also cross-stitch like nobody's business, but that's another story). After I moved here I ended up doing several homemaking meetings, back in the day when we still had homemaking meetings, on Ukrainian easter eggs. You ought to have seen me trying to schlep cartons of eggs, dyes (already mixed because they're reusable), beeswax and candles up to Inwood ON THE SUBWAY.
All of which is to tell you, DON'T order the supplies on-line -- you'll be missing out. Take your offspring to the nearest subway and get yourself down to Little Ukraine, to East Seventh Street -- kind of around the corner from the Ukrainian Museum, if I remember rightly -- to a store called Surma's. You'll want to check out the hours before you go, because it's open less often than it used to be, but it's one of those treasures where you spend half an hour or longer, walk out and say, "I love New York!" The store is a family business that has been around for 90 or 100 years or something like that, and when I used to go there, there were a couple of faded curled up Polaroids taped to the wall, along with a piece of paper that was so yellowed it was the color of a manila envelope, on which someone had typed -- and I mean with a typewriter, not a computer printer -- with great pride, "The blouse Karen Allen wore in Raiders of the Lost Ark was purchased at SURMA'S!!"
I haven't been there for a while, but the times I went there was usually a large yellow dog, and sometimes a supercilious cat, that had the run of the place. It's THAT kind of shop.
So it's a terrific little variety store of all things Ukrainian -- blouses (hand-embroidered), eggs both wooden and from-the-fowl, honey candy (you should buy a couple of pieces so you can each try one, but I think you'll agree one is enough), and all the egg supplies you could ever want. What you -- and the Boy -- WANT for now is the starter kit. It has five or six packets of dye in it, a beeswax patty, a kistka (little more sophisticated and long-lived than a nail stuck into a pencil eraser -- also does fine lines if you want to get fancy), and a simple pattern book if you need designs to get you started. Ask the people in the store what they recommend; they're friendly and full of advice. Ask them for pointers, and they'll probably have some good ones.
Best conversation I ever had there was when the proprietor was ringing me up and I glanced at all the jars of honey on the shelf behind him, and at the labels, and said, "You have Saskatchewan clover honey?"
And he said, "You KNOW Saskatchewan?"
And I said, "I grew up in Saskatchewan."
And he said, "You know SASKATOON, Saskatchewan?"
And I said, "I grew up in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan."
And he said, "You know PAUL'S STATIONERY in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan?"
And I said, "Paul's Stationery is where I got my egg supplies when I lived there. They have a little black poodle that runs around the store."
And he got all misty-eyed, crossed his hands over his heart, and said, "Is my brother." Actually, if I understood him correctly, once he was articulate again, it wasn't really his brother, it was an old friend or cousin or something, but either way, what were the odds?
THEN when you're done at Surma's, march your children up to 9th Street and 2nd Avenue to Veselka's, and order perogies. They do some sort of exotic flavors there, but you want the traditional potato-filled or potato-and-cheese-filled ones (and I DON'T mean the goat cheese ones!), with cream cheese and little bits of bacon. They'll give you an applesauce topping as well if you'd like. You could order cabbage rolls as well as if you want to do the thing up thoroughly, but Veselka's makes them wrong, so I don't recommend them there.
Obviously, there was nothing to do but GO! And it was everything she promised.
Please note that it says on the sign outside "book and music co." I really wanted some of these tapes, but have no way to play them. We did randomly pick out some vinyl ($3/record) to bring home to the dad. We can't understand a word on it, but the "WAH-ha-ha" chuckling/singing thrills us all beyond words.
We got all the necessary equipment (the tools, the design book that was printed before I was born, the thing that blows out the egg innards, the candles, the packets of dye, and the little metal dipping things). The lady that helped us had the essence of Miracle Max/Billy Crystal in The Princess Bride (once he became helpful). She opened packages and walked us through the steps and techniques. She wished us well ("Have fun storming the castle!") -- made The Boy -- and The Girl for that matter -- feel like this egg business is valuable and worthy of choosing for "a thing." You don't get such humanity and connectivity when you order online. The Boy is ecstatic and kept thanking me for "supporting" him. Our friend was right, we left the store feeling grateful to live in this city. Grateful that such stores, with such people, with such expertise in a speciality, exist.
Since our friend was right about Surma's we obviously had to walk ourselves to Veselka's. Here's the thing: we left on the adventure this morning thinking we would be going into unknown territory, but a little turn here and suddenly the East Village slapped us in the face.
In other words: we had been on this street before. Many times. We just didn't know to look for a Ukrainian restaurant.
The perogies were really tasty (we went with the fried ones. I wasn't expecting cooking-technique options, so I pseudo-panicked, but the waitress whispered that although the boiled are more traditional, the fried ones are much better). The only problem was that we didn't have a good grasp on how big they would be, and the end of story is that they are indeed delicious, but not very big... Thus, when we were done we went across the street to a place that we've been to many times: Pommes Frites. We consumed a double by cramming down all that fried goodness smothered in mayonnaise-based additional goodness.
Being in the area, we of course had to stop by The Strand. Even though I tell myself that we do NOT need any more books, we still end up with sore arms by the time we get home. I can't help it. They have gorgeous old books printed in the 20's and 30's for $2. What kind of a monster can pass up something like that? The kids picked out books, I picked out books, we found books for gifts... We are weak. Weak. To further prove it, while we were standing in line Judd the Red Chicken reached down and grabbed these candies -- three for 35 cents -- and put them on the counter with an: "I'll pay you back." I told him that was fine. Walking out of the store:
"Thanks for letting me get the candy. I'll pay you when we get home. It was weird how I just looked down and saw it and felt like I should buy it without really thinking about it."
"That's called impulse buying. That's why they put it there by the register."
"What? That's terrible. I can't believe they got me. It's really strong..."
Yes. Yes it is. On the subway a lady looked at all of our bags and commented on us having gone to The Strand. I told her it was an addiction.
"That's a pretty good thing to have as an addiction," she smiled.
We chatted. I told her how it was the first time that I had seen the sticker that compared the cost of downloading the book onto an ereader to how much the book cost (stuck on books where the physical book was the less expensive option). She talked about how the experience of reading a book was different. I agreed. I said that I acknowledge that ereaders have their place, but they should be an addition to -- not an instead of. We lamented over the closing of so many bookstores in the city. We discussed how we were sad to project that we very well might soon be living in a world without bookstores. We parted ways with well-wishes for each other, and for a future with bookstores and paper books.
It was a good day. In the subway station we saw a K-9 unit training dogs -- seven beautiful animals paraded past us and made the girl beam.
Three men on our train sang endorphins into being; the kids gave them dollars and got really fun high-fives in return.
This city is the best classroom. I just hope that it stays that way -- that all that is authentic, and one of a kind isn't pushed out by what is new, streamlined, efficient, virtual... We could have ordered our egg dye online, but that experience would NOT have made us feel so fulfilled... Humans need human interaction. Helen Keller said about New York City: "Cut off as I am, it is inevitable that I should sometimes feel like a shadow walking in a shadowy world. When this happens I ask to be taken to New York City. Always I return home weary but I have the comforting certainty that mankind is real flesh and I myself am not a dream."
Of course, if it weren't for the efficient, ethereal online world I wouldn't have a friend who, from the other side of the country, can read my blog and email me details to follow for a charming field trip. Again: addition to, not instead of...
