Different Is Beautiful

This entry is devoted to a write up of one of my favorite places to eat in New York City. In a world where most places are interested in coming up with new gimmicks or  trends or keeping up with existing ones, there are a few that go their own way and succeed because of it.  This is one of them.

 A few weeks ago, Jehangir Mehta's East Village restaurant, Graffiti,  was given a twenty-eight(out of thirty) rating for its food.  This is a particularly fantastic occurance, because in all of NYC, only 11 restaurants received such high marks.   I can't say I was surprised by this at all.  I discovered Graffiti two years ago, and have returned many times since.   I can say, quite honestly, I've never been disappointed.  Yes, it's that good, and one of the reasons that's true is because of how different it is. And it's not different in a gimmicky popular sort of way.  Let me try to explain.

The first thing you need to know about Graffiti is that getting there is part of it's charm, especially if you're walking .   East Tenth Street is filled with beautiful brownstones and interesting shops. You'll need to  watch the  building numbers though, or you might walk past Graffiti the first time, like I did.
Once you've stepped inside, however, you know you've arrived somewhere special.
Sure, it's small.   Okay, it's really small.  However, it is an excellent illustration of how good things come in small packages.

From the subdued lighting coming from the hanging chandelier-like lanterns and the soft background music to the lovely pictures and colorful hangings that adorn the walls, you feel as though you've entered a different world.  Chef Mehta himself designed the space himself, and it's evident that everything was selected with great care.

And then, there's the food, which is truly something that has to be experienced. All the appetizers and entrees come on small plates, so they're designed for sharing, but if you go alone, like I often do, two or three of them, along with a dessert are enough for a satisfying meal.   The menu is varied, with something for everyone.  Most of the items are constant but there are a few dishes that change seasonally.  There's also a vegetarian menu along with some gluten free offerings.  If you or your party have any special requirements, they will do their best to accomodate you.

I'm including a link to the menu, which describes the offerings far better than I ever could.
http://www.graffitinyc.com/menu/
Some of my favorites are the scallops, and the Graffiti burger.  I have to admit though, I'm pretty obsessed with the desserts.   Last time I was there, I had something that had just been added to the menu, a pear, poached with spices, and served with home-made marmalade ice cream.  Yes, you read right.  MARMALADE ICE CREAM.   I still think about it.

Finally, I want to talk about what I think is the best thing about Graffiti, and that's the attentiveness of the hosts and the waitstaff.   You are greeted warmly the minute you walk in, and they see to it that your experience there is enjoyable.  They'll answer any questions you may have, and I appreciate the way they explain each dish you are served.   And, if you are lucky to be there when Chef Mehta is in the restaurant, don't be suprised if he actually takes your order, or even brings it out to you.  That's just the kind of person he is.

So, if you have a chance, try to dine at Graffiti at least once before you die.  It's an experience you will long remember.  Maybe I'll see you there .

This is What Depression Is, This is What Depression Does

Last August, when Robin Williams decided(for whatever reason, and truthfully we'll never know because he didn't leave a note to tell us why---at least not  one that the press could glom over) to end his life there was a resurgence of articles, news stories, and all over posts by people on their blogs, and on their Facebook, Twitter, and all other social media speaking of their sadness and confusion over this tragedy. As the story developed and it was made known that he struggled for years with clinical depression as well as alcohol, there were many people who said, or made promises to 'be there for anyone who was hurting' to be more understanding, to always be willing to listen.

It's November now.  The weather is colder, the  new school year is close to a third over..  Football and hockey season are in full swing, and dear god, it is a mere 52 days until Christmas.
And, as I predicted, the attention about the devastating effects of clinical depression have, for the most part faded away.  I do understand why-sort of.  It's not easy to talk about.  Not many people want to talk about it.  And, there is a lack of understanding about what depression actually is.
Unfortunately, 'depression' is a word that's bandied about easily.  It's become a catch-all word for so many things that clinical depression is not.
Still, as a person who's lived with Major Depression-Recurrent for the past thirty-six years, it's troubling.  Major, or clinical depression is different than---see, here's the tricky part---it's hard to explain without sounding like you're being condescending.  It's a little more though than waking up on the wrong side of the bed, feeling blah, having the blues, having a bad day.   It's a legitimate, physical problem.  Your brain either doesn't make enough of certain mood elevating chemicals, or your neuro-receptors(and yeah, I know I've spelled that wrong) don't pick them up, or absorb them.  I'll admit I'm not EXACTLY sure on all the technical reasons why I have what I have.
All I know is how it affects me.   All I know is that over the past two months it's been a struggle to do anything.
-Get out of bed
-Eat
-Have interest in most of the things I love
-Be pleasant
People say, "But you were laughing the other day."  Yeah.  Every now and then something's funny.  Rarely.  Most days I can't find much to laugh at, except maybe myself.  Which, believe me, I do.
And when I do force myself to get up, get out of my head and go out, I look decent.  My hair's combed, I'm clean.  Truly, if you didn't know me well, or I hadn't told you, there's a good chance you wouldn't know.
But I'm tired of feeling like I have to hide it.
When I do talk about it, most people avoid me like the plague.  And I wonder, is it me, or is it who I am?  Which of course is a question that does wonders for my self esteem.
Chris Martin whines his depressing lyrics and everyone wets their pants at his 'brilliance'.
Sylvia Plath wrote some of the most self indulgent self-pitying doggerel ever, and she's revered.
And there's Dylan Thomas, and Poe, and well Kurt Cobain--and Hemmingway.   Oh, wait.  They all offed themselves, didn't they.  Yeah.  ANYWAY.
*Sigh*  I had a point when I started writing this.
The truth is over the past year my clinical depression has gotten worse.  I've been on eight different meds, and none have worked.   I have to wait until Dec 2nd, to see the shrink because the hospital where I go just went through a major reorganization.
And I'm lonely.  I've lost friends because of this disease, and yeah, that is my fault.
And basically I'm just scared.
I know I'm better than this, and honestly, I just want myself back.