It was a warm evening in the city and not yet dark. We arrived, giddy and happy, and he ordered two glasses of prosecco. The waiter managed to fit onto our tiny wood table two plates of tartines, a legumes dish, and a tray of fromage. And then we shared dessert. I can’t remember exactly but it must have been chocolate.

Dead Horse Bay is about an hour and a half from lower Manhattan by public transit, but well worth the journey. There is so much glass on the beach that the waves make a soft tinkling sound as they roll in. It’s a scavenger’s dream, and glass isn’t the only thing you’ll find here. There are still plenty of horse bones to remind you where the place gets its name.

I keep going there when I miss my friend Aggeliki. We meet on the line waiting to watch Martha Marcy May Marlene. I just arrived in NYC, I remember we both were in the same situation. We became very close since that day.

The perfect pizza in my books. Felt like a sweet spot between New York style pizzas and the classic Neapolitan 

Tribeca buildings that feels like New York