Turkish Cuisine Westchester in White Plains

Inspired by the sun and mild temperatures, Hubby and I gathered our fleeces, and headed over to Sunset Cove in Tarrytown to watch the sun set lazily behind the mountains. Life seemed to stop and take a back seat...

But our stomachs didn't.

Another one of Hubby's clippings- this time from the Westchester Magazine-, we visited the Turkish Cuisine Westchester in White Plains. Not knowing what to expect- I find that most Turkish food, just like any ethnic food, is altered to the local tastes- I was pleasantly surprised.

It reminded me of the earlier version of Ali Baba on 33rd Street- only on a much smaller scale. There are about six tables (seating 2-4 at each) in the back, and a take-out counter space with 4-5 stools for solo eaters. This is not a place for elaborate dining- for that, you may head over to Mamaroneck to Turkish Meze, the same owners as this joint.

The menu is diverse- no side dishes- and the kitchen is flexible if you crave for anything that may not be on the menu. For me, it was the "ayran"- a savory yogurt drink that goes fancily with traditional Turkish meat dishes. I loved my Skewered Ground Meat (complemented by a side of green chili sauce- also on request) that was served with a heaping salad and rice (made in bay leaf broth). Hubby opted for the Grilled Lamb Chops- unfortunately, they were out- and then chose to have Meatballs. Turkish Cuisine does not have a liquor license, but they welcome if you decide to bring any with you. Both dishes were delicious, and the serving sizes were just-right.

There is so much on the menu that I'd like to sample, so I'll be going back for some more.

Turkish Cuisine Westchester
116 Mamaroneck Ave
White Plains, NY 10601
(914) 683 6111
Mon to Wed 11 am–9 pm
Thurs to Sat 11:30 am–3 am
Sun 11:30 am–9 pm

Emma's Ale House

Last Sunday, on our way back from house-hunting, we made a turn onto Gedney Way to stop by Emma's Ale House, a new bar/restaurant in White Plains. Hubby had read about in the NYTimes, clipped the review and strategically placed it by the Tassimo for my reading pleasure.

Familiar with the watering holes in White Plains, I had mixed feelings going into the place- one time, when we had stopped by the Black Bear for a quick wings & beer during the football season, I had felt terribly "old" in my long-sleeved shirt and jeans. Looking around at the females who were in their "Sunday best"- faces fully made-up in revealing slinky (flimsy?) shirts-, I felt like I was as pristine as a nun. Thank goodness, Hubby never said a word, or he was perhaps enjoying the 'company' around us that he did not even notice my discomfort!!

From the moment you walk into Emma's, you're surrounded in dark & rich mahogany colors of old-school bars. To the left of the entrance, there's a large dining room- and on that Sunday, there were plenty of families dining with their little ones. We chose to stay to the right- a rather spacious area- where a long bar welcomed us. Hubby instantly commented on the beers on tap- happy to see the Captain's Reserve Imperial IPA from the local brewery, Captain Lawrence. We recognized the bartender- he was transferred from the Black Bear who share the same owners.

As we were watching the NCAA game on the flat-screen, I surveyed the clientele- a group of what seemed to be golf/sailing buddies with their wives, several young(er) couples enjoying the homemade chips on the bar, a few singletons, and groups of men and women cheering for their favorite college team...

Food was quite decent and prices reasonable- especially loved the soft pretzel sticks that preceded our dinner. Later, when I looked up their website, I noticed that Emma's is a Certified Green Restaurant by the Green Restaurant Association. Good news.

Making our way out of Emma's, I made a mental-note to come back.

Emma's Ale House
68 Gedney Way
White Plains, New York 10605
Phone: 914-683-EMMA
Fax: 914-683-6627
View Map & Directions

Suburban Spirit

On the way from the gym last night, I felt brave. I was in touch with my emotions, secure with the progress of my new year's resolutions, and overall, comfortable with the recent decisions my hubby and I have been making. Emotionally, I was on solid grounds. With this courage, I declared to hubby that I wanted to see Revolutionary Road.

See, I have been afraid of seeing that movie, primarily because I kept thinking it'd bring out the "city" in me, the desire to leave everything behind, run with hubby, and move back to what's been our home. The push-and-pull between the city and the suburbs has been an emotional roller-coaster ride, one that brought hubby and I closer together, one that has enabled us to grow together. Or, maybe, just me.

A friend who recently saw the movie commented that it surfaced some 'commitment' issues. Some others thought it was a 'dark' and 'bleak' look into relationships in general. A recent New York Times article in the "Westchester" section while admitting that the movie is "affecting," denies the stereotyping of the 'burbs with a heart-warming story of a Pelham family. (And I have to admit that I've seen, first-hand, a community come together in the face of multiple tragedies- there's definitely something to say about that.)

So on the way from the gym last night, after confirming to myself that I am on solid emotional grounds and can handle movie, I heard my hubby respond, "I'd rather see Gran Torino."

Typical. So typical...

So, It's a New Year's Eve... Again...

I think I have a love-hate relationship with new year eves.

As a little girl, I'd look forward to watching the festivities in our apartment- running around from the living room to the dining room back to the kitchen, just following the clatter of wine glasses, passed hors d'oeuvres in a smokey haze of 'adults' talking with louder voices, exploding with unexpected laughter, bare arms flirtatiously touching each other, and more laughter... I thought this was the best time of the year- ever... I'd get to sip from my parents' glasses, eat off of passing trays of food before they even left the kitchen. Guests patting my head, admiring how much I've grown, how pretty I looked in my outfit,...

Sometimes other kids would be involved- we would put together little plays for each other, try to display our knowledge of 'adult' topics (after all, this was the era of Dallas and Falcon's Crest), and maybe, play a board game or two until one of the 'older' kids would decide to break free and mingle with the adults. We thought he was 'cool'.

Then there were those new year eves, where I'd sit with my grandparents, watch the festivities on the television, speculate about the outfits of the singers, and nibble on food. I'd read from some of the old magazines stacked on shelves, make small conversation with their guests, and drink a glass of something bubbly at 12 midnight. The phone call from my parents would follow to say happy new year's, and perhaps, to check up on me. I wouldn't see them until the next afternoon.

In my teenage years and early 20s, tagged along with Mom, I would go from one store to another, looking for that perfect outfit, perfect shoes, and even more perfect accessories. We would go to the hairdresser's on that day, and based on the year, we would ask him to make our hair wavy or blow dry straight, or give that little trim that would prepare for the new year's eve. All throughout these activities, I would anticipate who I would kiss first: my boyfriend, if I had one that year, or maybe a new boy who would become one, at least for the night... I'd try to think where it would be... Would we be standing on the balcony overlooking the Bosphorus, or would we be amongst the huge crowd of people at the night venue with confetti showering over our heads?

I remember a particular new year's eve: Breaking out of our families' party (no one wanted to hang out with adults anymore!) and ditching her younger sister, a childhood friend and I went out to a 'hip' spot with a birds eye view of the city. Transported in her little Beetle, she gave me heads up on which guy we were meeting was her intended 'boyfriend'; and of course, he had a 'friend' that I might like. He already knew about me. Over the years, I really tried to block out this evening from memory- just the sight of that guy makes me queasy; the only part I kept with me is the (short) time I got to spend with my girlfriend, giggling like we always did when together... She passed away about five years after that new year's eve.

I have been recounting all these priceless memories of new year's eves: From a 'boyfriend' who called his mother before kissing me at midnight, the one who hugged it out with his guy friends before even finding me on the balcony, the one who was documented kissing another girl while I was waiting for him at another party, the one who called at midnight to be forgiven, the one who never forgave me for kissing his friend...

So, over the past years, I've managed to tone down my expectations and learned not to anticipate any drama to happen. And as 2008 turned into 2009, I was at peace with new year's eve: A sip of cold Prosecco and a delightful kiss at midnight.

Happy 2009.

Banana Republic's Exciting New Partnership!

'Tis the season for partnerships: From Gap's (PRODUCT)Reds, to Target and Kohl's designer alliances, to the Wall Street's "partnerships" that come in form of takeovers, now we have another one to add to our list. Banana Republic.

Banana Republic is collaborating with the New Museum as a sponsor for the museum's "Live Forever: Elizabeth Peyton" exhibition, premiering in New York City on October 8, then moving on to Minneapolis, London, and the Netherlands.

Of course, as expected, this partnership comes in a very chic and eco-friendly package: for a membership at the New Museum, you can get a eco-chic tote with the exhibition catalogue. I was hoping for instant gratification and order my tote online, but they are not available until November 6th at select Banana Republic stores.

Is it November, yet?

Boogie Down in the 'Burbs

When the Westchester Magazine came out with its Nightlife issue in March '08, I couldn't help but be cynical and think that nightlife in Westchester was an oxymoron.

It's not that hubby and I don't go out a couple days a week, or that we don't appreciate the nearby venues where we have a good time, it's just that the suburbs have always been synonymous with quaint neighborhood eateries, quiet streets and a 10 PM curfew. Or, so I had thought...

On Saturday night, we ended up at Lucy's Lounge in Pleasantville- not by coincidence. When hubby and I were sitting by the waterfront in Yonkers a few weekends ago, we had browsed through a copy of the "More Sugar" paper and noticed that one of the U2 tribute bands, 2U, we had previously seen (the other one is the Unforgettable Fire) would be playing on Aug. 16th, same day as the Jets pre-season game where we would watch Favre for the first time. We decided that we'd go to the game and then head over to Lucy's afterward.

I was happy that Lucy's was easy to find, right off Bedford Road, conveniently accessible from the Saw Mill & the Taconic. Parking was accessible as well- not in the bar's designated parking lot but at the municipal parking spot across the street. From the outside, it looked like a cool cousin of one of the bars in White Plains- girls and guys catching a few smokes, the door-boy making small talk, and music pouring outside the door.

Walking inside, I was pleasantly surprised to find the bar packed with not only 20-somethings, but also with some slightly more mature (at least in their looks!) crowd. There were women decked out in tent dresses and big jewelry, men in casual slacks and button-downs, adding to the polished atmosphere. (I thanked my wisdom in taking off my Jets jersey and putting on something more appropriate prior to going in!) There were also more individualistic styles- I attributed it to the wide range of crowd that the band must've drawn in to the bar that evening- I actually love that!

The band played on, Michael Phelps won his 8th gold medal, we sipped our beers, and enjoyed the cool breeze coming in through the doors and windows. Our evening at Lucy's in Pleasantville, overall, was quite pleasant (cannot help myself!!!); I'd love to go back and sample one (or two?) of their martinis.

Maybe, after all, there's a nightlife in Westchester for those of us in their 30s & 40s aside from our neighborhood comfort zones- we just need to stretch our thinking...

SPACE.NK is here!

There are a few things I get excited about, and one of them is finding a beloved store in the City in my own backyard. To add to my excitement, this time it is a global favorite, and I am simply thrilled! I think the last time I felt this way was when Target partnered with Boots- a total "must-visit-when-in-the-UK" destination for me...

Space NK opened up its NYC flagship store on 99 Greene Street in Soho. I've made my pilgrimage, and opened up my wallet without a blink- I absolutely love the brands they carry as well as their own brand.

And now, they're in Scarsdale, right on Harwood Court- an ideal location for a boutique apothecary. Oh, I am getting goosebumps!!! It has a gorgeous layout- all white- and although some may not find the space large, I found it's pretty spacious for its location.

You know I love sharing my finds, so here are some faves from Space NK:

• Space NK Seaweed Body Polish- perfect way to exfoliate before that waxing appointment and pre-beach sunning session
• Philip B Travel Kit- a set of shampoo and conditioners small enough to put in your carry-on and large enough to have it last for that week in the summer cottage
• Space NK Foot File- very handy for in-between summer pedicures
• Go Smile Touch Up Mini Mint- a good excuse to run to the ladies room to get the red wine stain off your teeth

If you are not familiar with SpaceNK, then go online to their website (or, click here) and order their catalogue. It arrives at your mailbox in a handwritten envelope a couple of days after you click send.

Now, that's British sensibility!

Deuce

I relish my Sunday mornings. Usually first one to be up and running, I have an established routine: Wake up, make a cup of coffee, pick up the newspaper, go to the porch (alternated by the cozy living room couch in winters), de-tangle each section, place in order: Week In Review, Styles, Main section, Business, Metro, and Sports, and finally, lull into the day...

I am a girl with a penchant for routines, and a desire for a dash of sudden bursts of spontaneity. Pepper in some self-reflections and revelations along the way, and you got me, growing up...

This morning, my routine was disrupted by Wimbledon. Not so spontaneously, but in a nice, surprising way. Starting at 9:00 AM, hubby and I were glued to Channel 4, watching Nadal and Federer swing at each other. A self-proclaimed "occasional tennis fan", (Please, don't tell my Dad, he'd be crushed to know that I don't watch every major Open- not even the finals) I found myself at 4:30 PM, still in our couch, admiring Federer's grace (and his long fingers- seeing the resemblance to my very own!!!), and Nadal's child-like insistence on winning over his much better-skilled opponent. (All in this time, I've also managed to bake "Pecan-Honey Buns" straight out of next month's Food & Wine issue- an on-and-off 3.5 hour ordeal, with criminally sticky results!)

Watching the ball go from one end of the court to the next, a flood of memories surrounded me: younger me passing Ankara afternoons at a tennis club admiring my Dad play; sultry summer evenings in the town of Kusadasi, at the then-only 5-star hotel, huddled onto chintzy couches by the pool-side bar's TV, mesmerized by Ivan Lendl, instead of taking another dip in the pool; a teenager me, looking out from my bedroom window, over the river to Queens at the white HRC bubbles, imagining John McEnroe playing right at that minute; and, later, a younger adult me, perched on my blue sofa bed in my Brooklyn Heights brownstone, absent mindedly staring at the US Open- and Andre Agassi- in the heat of early-September of New York City...

Then a flood of questions: How come I never took my love for tennis onto the courts? Why did I never follow up my Dad's insistence that I take lessons? What is it about playing tennis that I find so intimidating? I think this is the part of the afternoon, where I laid the pecan-honey bun dough to rest.

I felt today turned from watching the longest Wimbledon match ever-played to seeing myself in a different light: I notice that I am upset that I never had the stamina to learn the techniques, the patience to fail, and the persistence to improve my skills. I see that tennis had been about never trying, and then always about quitting. Am I still this girl? The quitter? No, sir, no! Not me!

A sense of urgency overwhelmed me. I took out my (very) old tennis raquet and dusted it clean. After dinner, I promised myself to look up our local town recreational department's summer calendar to sign up for a course. And, yes, Beginners, please, I would like to savor re-learning the sport.

Hey- I think I am growing up!