Probably the place I most regretted giving up when we abandoned NY for
Maine, and the place that I most look forward to on my trips back, is the
West Side Market, an all-night joint on Broadway between 110th and 111th
Streets. In the 6os and early 70s when a store was considered hip if it
carried 10 imported cheeses, Westside had 30. They sold cilantro, arugola
and boc choy before Martha Stewert was out of diapers. They even carried
three different brands of home-made macaroons!

Now they have expanded greatly; cheeses by the hundreds, produce that a
provincial like me has never heard of, smoked fish, a hundred different
coffees and 5 different brands of baguettes.

But it is just as confounding today as it was back then to figure where any
particular thing might be placed in the store. Its just as surprising that
the NYC Dept. of Health (or whatever its current incarnation is called)
hasn't stickered the place and locked the doors. And it is still a place
where the chaos on the shelves is mirrored by the chaos of its large and
noisy staff and its diverse and oblivious patrons. The place is usually
just as mobbed at three in the morning as it is at three in the afternoon,
and one still has to make one's way constantly around little groups of
people standing deep in conversation as if they were standing on a street
corner.

The Alna Store is a great place to catch up on gossip and news, and its
daily lunch specials regularly include meals that couldn't be found
anywhere in Maine 20 years ago. Treats in Wiscasset is a pretty good little
gourmet shop. But I sure do miss walking the dog at two AM, tying him to a
parking meter outside and going into Westside for some chocolate ruggala or
natural pistachio nuts.

Bruce