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.

A not-for-profit community museum and civic organization located in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The museum traces the history of New York City's five boroughs with its exhibitions of cultural ephemera and relics.

Coming back from from New Haven, we got off at Grand Central and he took me down one of the concourses to the place with the vaulted ceiling. He stood at one corner and I stood at another and we whispered into the walls, our voices drifting across to each other.

I have old friends in San Francisco who grudgingly tell me that the High Line is everything that's wrong with New York. Well, too bad. To me, it embodies a culture that's constantly reinventing itself: a defunct elevated railway that was becoming a burden to the city ("we used to climb up there to throw garbage bags full of rotting Korean food at the Hasids!", noted a successful photographer's assistant) becoming a startling example of urban greening for the public good. The expert landscaping makes it feel like walking on a Montauk beach - but a stone's throw from some of New York's most progressive galleries and hotels.

It’s the child of the Russ & Daughters deli NYC institution