It starts when a friend implores you to eat downstairs at La Esquina, the subterranean brasserie branch of Derek Sanders's Mexican axis of Kenmare Street. The food’s cheaper and probably better at the walk-in-only cafe around the corner from the restaurant’s entrance—a door disguised by a taqueria counter and a sign that reads “Employees Only”—but there’s a certain category of New Yorker who thrives on having what others don’t. A reservationist will ask you if you’ve “dined with us before,” and in general, it takes knowing someone in the industry, smooth talking, or (velvet-rope flashback) looking good and confident at the door, to waltz in at prime time. The reward is dining in a Mexican dungeon as styled for a Vogue shoot, complete with metalwork, distressed stone walls, and water dripping on the back of your neck (though the owners can probably thank the air conditioner for the added atmospherics). Making up the grinning crowd at secluded booths and in private cells (?): a healthy mix of models, cougars, and maybe John Mayer picking his way through red snapper ceviche, cauliflower and avocado taquitos, grilled octopus tostados, or a plate of tuna tartare with a tamarind glaze. If the food sounds light, you’re right; it’s playing to the delicious crowd.  This is, what "The New Yorker" wrote about this fantastic place!

I love this place. It’s almost always empty. I can think here, and look at the New York City skyline which is amazing and exciting and always inspiring and reminds me of how lucky I am to live here.

Housing European Romanesque and Gothic collections, the building itself sits high on a hill offering far reaching views over the Hudson River and Upper Manhattan. A place to bookmark for after the Spring equinox when you can ramble amongst the fragrant herb gardens of Fort Tryon Park and drink in the air of the season.

XXXI (‘Thirty-One’) is ❶ a mixed-use community space for designers (and others) to exhibit, teach, and discuss self-initiated work; ❷ a shared studio space; ❸ a residency for designers; and ❹ an online (and sometimes physical) store. It purposefully lives outside (or against) the constraints of the city it exists in and traditional commercial practice to ask what design can do when its goal is not money.

Strand is a castle of books. It claims 2.5 million new and used books, across 18 miles of shelves, cared for by 200 employees—so set aside a couple of hours. Plenty of art books and good prices. Get your healthy huff of that old book smell.