37 Minutes

An idea Mitchell and I have been floating around has been driving into the city and just kind of surveying it during this pandemic. We finally got around to doing it this past Sunday, the first time Long Island’s seen temperatures in the mid-seventies this year so far.

I was a little concerned about whispers that roads were closed in the city. That it’d be difficult to navigate around. I hoped that perhaps we might have a chance to park and stretch our legs in Central Park if the parameters of responsible social distancing were met.

It took 37 minutes of easy driving cruising at about 70 mph to emerge from the Queens-Midtown Tunnel and reach Murray Hill. Unsure of where our destination should be, we punched in Times Square as our first stop.

For most cities, the energy would probably be aptly described as bustling; however, for arguably one of the most iconic cities in the world, there was a marked absence that still lingered.

We reached Times Square easily. In juxtaposition, a few years ago, we accidentally wound up going through Midtown on our way to a food allergy convention in New Jersey. This GPS miscalculation cost us nearly an hour to go one mile. On Sunday, we were able to drive around and admire Times Square from multiple angles before finding curbside parking easily.

After Times Square, we still had some time to kill before our pickup order from Marea was ready. We meandered through Columbus Circle and drove the entire perimeter of Central Park. I asked Mitchell if he thought we could check out Central Park but his response was a firm no. The crowds were thick enough that social distancing would be difficult and about a third of the pedestrians we saw weren’t wearing masks.

By the time we finished circling Central Park in our minivan, we’d reached Columbus Circle again with Marea in the vicinity. Marea is my third Michelin starred restaurant experience and it didn’t disappoint. Their version of a lobster buratta salad was otherworldly. I handed the small takeout container to Mitchell while we were stopped at a red light and wilted inside a little as he nonchalantly shoveled several forkfuls in his mouth. He likes to tease me for my apprehension to share food, especially if it’s something I like. The octopus fusilli was a real treat. I’ve never had octopus melt in my mouth like that.

By the time we reached Brooklyn, Mitchell announced that yeah, he’d like to stop by our go-to Italian restaurant on Long Island too because the Marea portions were too small for us to share. One of his lifelong aspirations (and admittedly mine too) is to be able to dine out and not be cognizant of menu prices at all. But for now, he’s PGY3 and we are very much aware of what a splurge Marea was.

Even with our detour to get Mitchell more food, our entire trip took less than two hours. During normal, pandemic times, I’d probably allot two hours just to get from Long Island into the city to reach Ava’s allergist on the Upper East Side on time. I’ll chalk up our little city excursion as a silver lining.

In discussing silver linings, I will say the dark clouds themselves still pass through and cast their shadows here and there. My friend who lives in Chicago lost his mother recently to COVID-19. I had sent him a condolence card. He reached out to thank me for the card and we got to small talk. I shared our experience at seeing so many people without masks around the city. He replied that he had a similar experience with seeing folks without masks in Chicago and plainly stated, “I don’t want to keep doing this, I have a funeral to plan.”

Mitchell thinks we will experience at the very least another wave of COVID-19 cases that’ll threaten to drown our healthcare system and essential workers. I hope and pray that that condolence card I purchased for my friend will be the only one I need to purchase for a long time.