"Slightly Altered" at Sophia's

So I bought a dress that didn’t fit me. It gaped at the chest in a way that was unseemly and yet I fell in love with its green stripes and how it was both modern and also somewhat retro. Besides, it was more than 50% off at Lord and Taylor in the ‘burbs. I repeat: 50 % off!

Maybe some have the strength to walk away from the dressing room in this kind of situation, but I kept twirling around dreamily. So what if the top was loose to the point of indecency? I knew I had a secret sizing weapon (and no, this didn’t involve implants or stuffing of any kind…) I knew I could count on Sophia of Sophia’s Expert European Alterations here on the Upper East Side on 75th between First and York.

Sophia has come to my rescue for pants, skirts and even two bathing suits. Her work is excellent. I learned to sew in 8th grade Home Economics class, so I can mend a hole here and there, but who has room in their apartment for a sewing machine? And I’d be afraid I’d ruin a garment as delightful as this.

Sophia Dramitinos was born in Athens, Greece and has been altering garments here on the Upper East Side for over 25 years: 12 years at this location and 13 years at Lex and 82nd. Her mother, who was a seamstress as well, first taught her to sew then Sophia apprenticed with a busy designer and dressmaker before moving to the United States.

Now, she commutes from Astoria six days per week. Her hours are Monday – Friday 11-6 and Saturday 11-4.

Since she does no advertising, her customers come to her entirely from word of mouth, and not just from the Yorkville area, but also from Madison, Park and Fifth Avenue. She says, “Customers like that they can bring their clothes directly to me and I’m the one actually doing the work.” She told me that she gets a lot of botched jobs from dry cleaners. “If they send it out after the fitting, you don’t know what you’re going to get.”

In fact, she’s had regular customers who have been coming back to her for alterations for 25 years. She says she’s worked on everything from Halloween costumes to wedding gowns to blue jeans. She gets a lot of bridesmaid dresses and also works on furs.

I asked if she happened to notice if more people were coming in to make their old clothes new again, due to the recession. She answered with a shrug and a smile. “Well, I was going to close this year and work out of my house, but more people started coming in so…I changed my mind.”

I, for one, am hoping she keeps her doors open and her needles flying for years to come. I highly recommend you keep her in mind for any future handiwork you may need, whether it’s an old garment in need of updating or a new one with the tags still attached. I picked up my dress yesterday and it now fits like a glove. I also dropped off another dress (also green, also on sale, and also positively dreamy) which needs just a little tweaking…

The Big/Huge/Gigantic UES Barnes & Noble

While waiting for the train last week, I saw an advertisement across the subway platform for the new Barnes & Noble on 86th and Lexington. It said something like: “A New Upper East Side Landmark.” I had noticed that the one further east on 86th closed and heard it was being replaced. I am a bit of a bookworm and therefore a bookstore devotee, but “landmark”? Hmm, we’ll see about that.

I prefer smaller, independent bookshops…you know, those little places that are getting squashed by monstrous megachains? On this note, among many other hold-outs in this fine neighborhood, I highly recommend Crawford Doyle Booksellers on Madison between 81st and 82nd and of course Shakespeare and Company on Lexington between 68th and 69th.

Hard to believe that Barnes & Noble, which now has more than 700 locations, had humble beginnings in 1837 in an Illinois print shop owned by Charles Barnes. In 1917, his son, William, went on to partner up with a G. Clifford Noble and open a bookstore here in New York City on West 15th Street. I searched out these historical tidbits perhaps to somehow personalize the place and justify the fact that I’ve given into this gigantic corporation's convenience and ability to stock lots of titles.

I was curious about this new one, so I finally visited this weekend. I was on the market for a new pocket thesaurus. This is a critical Informer tool, and my current one was barely holding itself together despite numerous spine surgeries - Book nurse, please hand me more tape…

The new B&N location opened in June and is right next to the also brand-new H&M. The front entrance (or, at the suggestions of my new thesaurus, shall I say vestibule? Threshold?) is sleek and leads to a foyer paneled with a three-sided mural depicting true Upper East Side landmarks – The Cooper-Hewitt, the Whitney, Yorkville, the 92nd Street Y. Front and center is a huge screen announcing upcoming events.

I rode the escalator down to the main level, which opens up like a vast cavern. The expansive space is impressive from a New York real estate perspective. At 55,000 square feet, it doesn’t feel cramped or jumbled (which is how, only in comparison, I’d now characterized that previous location). I’d say these proportions are practically suburban. It feels kind of like a mall. I could argue both sides of this equation: though this amount of space seems a tad excessive and sterile on one hand, it’s also nice to not be bumping into other customers and bruising your thighs on the corners of book tables (or maybe that last bit is just my own klutzy/clumsy problem…) Since this location is mostly underground, there isn’t any natural light in the place; I suppose the huge, round polka dot-like light fixtures above are a small consolation.

Anyway, a wall labeled The Current Scene features attractive coffee table books of all kinds. And a nearby kiosk shows off children’s books with especially adorable covers. Ahh…books. These kinds of thoughtful displays remind me of when I set up the shelves in my girlhood bedroom to resemble a bookstore. I’ve always revered books, of course for their content, and also as objects.

Here’s the thing, and perhaps this is nit-picky of me, but when you look/gaze across the expanse, the main signage you see is not "Fiction" or "Literature", or "Self-Help." Instead, the words, “Movies, Music, and Audio Books” glow especially bright. Harrrumph! If you’re concerned that “the book is dead” (or dying) then you best shield thine eyes.

Oh well. Due to a dearth/scarcity/shortage of more book-centric signage, it took me a while and yet another escalator ride to find the reference section. Once I did, it pleased me to see the plural of thesaurus written out: this isn’t something you see everyday. I am pretty easily entertained.

Continuing the oversized theme, the café area is spacious. I noted, however, that the tables are not particularly big and therefore not conducive to the long stays to which I am prone (with laptop, manuscripts, coffee, and “thesauri” all spread out…). The checkout line was notably quick and painless, thanks to those nifty numbered cashier stations and automated announcements/prompts reporting which one has just become available. This is a major improvement over the last B&N location – waiting in that extremely cramped, claustrophobic line under the escalator would induce panic attacks in even the most hardened New Yorkers.

Did we need a whole new Barnes & Noble on the Upper East Side? Not really. Is it nice in a showy, clean, but not-exactly-a-landmark kind of way? Affirmative. Will I be back at some point? Despite myself, probably...yes.

Stumblebums on UES

I love the public displays of creativity here in New York: artful fashions, street performers of every ilk, and people just generally letting loose. You never know what you might see around the next street corner. This is especially true downtown. Though I have a special place in my heart for the Upper East Side, I do find that this is probably one of least “random” and more predictable quadrants in Manhattan.

So I was delighted this past Thursday night to stumble upon something wholly unexpected. I was on my way to meet up with a friend at Vespa on Second between 84th and 85th. This restaurant has solid Italian fare, but what really keeps me coming back is the quaint, bi-level garden out back and that adorable polka-dotted Vespa parked out front.

I was rounding the corner at 86th street when I saw a tuba bouncing along above the heads of other pedestrians. The tuba is remarkable to begin with. The way it winds around its owner makes it look like a thick brass snake with a big solitary ear for a head. Soon, the instrument stopped moving and started playing directly in front of the sidewalk diners at Mustang. The tuba was at first accompanied by drums and a trumpet. A few pedestrians, including myself, stopped to watch the trio, and some of the diners started bee-bopping in their seats.

A couple measures in, the long-haired, goatee-ed trumpeter swapped out his instrument for what looked like a megaphone and started singing in a style that was part Louis Armstrong, part Tom Waits, and (due to the megaphone) part construction site supervisor. Just as the customers were really starting to get their groove on, the funky trio was on the move again. They stopped briefly down the street for the benefit of the outdoor guests at Swig who were equally entertained by the impromptu entertainment.

Before they continued their parade, I caught up with them long enough to snap some quick pictures and find out that they call themselves the Stumblebum Brass Band, comprised of Jesse Wildcards on tuba (also called a sousaphone), Smidge Malone on trumpet and vocals, and Jonny Ballz on drums. They praised the Yorkville/ Upper East Side area as a great family neighborhood. Jesse Wildcards said that as of right now, they “travel all over the city but hope to one day travel all over the world” with their music. To hear them and see some of their upcoming gigs, visit their myspace page here. Or just keep your eyes and ears open as you round that next street corner…

Mysteries and Marvels at Vermicelli

It was a weird night. My friend and I planned to meet on the Upper East Side to catch up: she’d been on a trip to very distant lands and I was anxious to hear about her adventures. She suggested Vermicelli, a Vietnamese restaurant on Second at 78th Street. I rushed in, feeling guilty that I was a few minutes late, but she wasn’t there yet.

I slid into the long banquet that runs the length of the restaurant and leaned against one of the elongated pillows that hang from a pole, cleverly emulating chair backs. Little did I know that this would be a night of many questions and this was the first one: why doesn’t every restaurant set up the seating like this? These pillows are adjustable, comfortable, and they look cool.

I ordered a Black Opal Shiraz then perused the menu for a few minutes. Maybe I’m not all that well-traveled – I’ve never been to Vietnam, or anywhere in Asia for that matter – so I was confused: isn’t vermicelli more of an Italian thing? Apparently not. I suppose it’s a matter of nomenclature: in one part of the world it’s pasta and in another part it’s noodles. All the vermicelli dishes sounded delicious, as did the curries and the fish dishes.

Soon, an intriguing bowl of snacks arrived. They were puffy as pillows. When I asked the affable manager, Alan, about these, he told me they were rice crackers with oyster flavor. Served alongside was a peanut sauce with pineapple. I wondered: how rude is it to start in on the complimentary comestibles before the rest of your party has arrived?

My friend was now 20 minutes late, which is uncharacteristic of her. She hadn’t responded to my “I’m here” text or my voicemail. I second-guessed myself: had I gotten the place wrong, or the night? At about 25 minutes, I wondered if she was okay and texted again. Granted, New York City can create all kinds of delays, surely I’d hear from her soon…

At 30 minutes, I sipped some more wine, then finally bit into one of those puffy crackers. It dissolved into my mouth in a pleasing, almost-wafer-like way… the sauce was sweet and savory. I leaned back and tried not to worry about my friend. Instead, I worried that my new sweater was was a bit too tight. And did I remember to snip off the price tag?

Before long, I’d eaten the entire bowl of crackers. Well, almost: one of them had attached itself like Velcro to my sweater sleeve… I detached it with as much decorum as possible and hoped no one had seen. Then I really threw all etiquette to the wind, pretty sure my friend would understand, and ordered the “Bahn Cuon” appetizer: steamed Rice Ravioli with chicken, bean sprouts, crispy shallots and…drumroll please…ear mushrooms. I almost asked about that latter ingredient then decided I’d rather not know the particulars.

I looked around me. With all this free time on my hands, I was really starting to question everything: were the walls more of a rust shade or a burnt sienna? Were those birdcage lanterns real birdcages? Ditto with the rice patty hats doubling as sconces. A steady stream of locals stopped in to pick up their take-out. I wondered what they did for their livings and if their kitchens were as tiny as mine. The bar had one of those uber-tall vases of blossoms. I love these: their height really lends a space a sense of grandeur.

My friend still hadn’t arrived when the ravioli did. They were delicious but incredibly slippery. Since the spoon seemed to be provided for serving and not eating, I was forced to wonder how long one should keep struggling with the chopstics before requesting a fork. In my case, not too long – I was hungry.

Alan told me that this place opened 10 years ago and is owned by Danny Chau. Both he and the chef are from Vietnam. Alan said that weekends very busy and during the week, a lot of customers come in for the lunchboxes. These are reasonably priced from 6.50 to 7.95 and include soup, salad, steamed rice and a vegetarian imperial roll. He told me that their most popular dishes are, naturally, the vermicelli dishes and also the Saigon Chicken, the Grilled Pork Chops and the Chilean Sea Bass.

At long last, my friend called (oh yikes, why did I have my phone ringer on so loud?) to say that she had been stuck in a work meeting where she couldn’t call out and that she was now on her way.

She eventually rushed in with her hair flying behind her, all apologies, and I, in turn, apologized for getting started without her.

I had by now done a thorough analysis of the menu so suggested that we order the “Cari Ga,” (pictured, left) curried chicken with sweet potato, carrot and coconut sauce and also try the "Bung Nuaong,” B.B.Q. marinated chicken in lemon grass, warm vermicelli, lettuce, mint, coriander and peanuts, to share.

The curry dish, served with rice, was extremely flavorful. It was a warm and comforting dish for what has thus far been a chilly summer here in New York. The vermicelli dish (below) was also great for opposite reasons: with its mint, lettuce and bean sprouts it was light and refreshing, kind of like a promise, like those blossoms on the bar, that the weather will still make a turn for the better.

After we settled into our meal a bit and exchanged a few facts about our respectively crazy days, I finally got to ask the main question I’d been waiting for all evening.

“So,” I said, “how was your trip?”