Hair Salon 

When I first moved to New York, enamoured by its parks and museums and design firms and restaurants and bars, I never imagined that there could be much more to its geography than that. How wrong I was. My first drive across the George Washington Bridge was jaw-dropping - the cliffs of New Jersey are astonishingly tall, covered in a dense thicket of trees. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. Drive up 87 to the Catskills or the Adirondacks and you'll witness the Hudson River winding its way through spectacular scenery and unforgiving seasons. Now I can't get enough; just two hours up the road, it's like the city never existed. Perfect recuperation after a long week.

Andrew Tarlow's Diner is a neighborhood institution and pioneer of gratuity-free establishments in Brooklyn. This place serves up breakfast, lunch and dinner in an old converted dining car under the Williamsburg bridge. A seasonal menu of fresh, New American style food that changes daily.

Warm winter holiday vibes all year long, especially during the holidays. A hint of the old NYC where one could be a functioning alcoholic by day and artist by night. Proper characters here, the lore is deep.

I discovered the Frick my first week in New York, during a heat wave in August. The galleries were surprisingly empty, with only the occasional visitor strolling through the rooms, gently creaking the floorboards. I stood for a while in front of the Bronzino, a portrait of a boy standing against a background of green drapery, and then sat in the courtyard for a long, cool hour.