If I don’t click my Louboutin’s across a tarmac once a month, I get antsy, so thank god for Billy Joel’s “Turnstile” album. Lightening struck Joel while “taking a Greyhound” on the Hudson River line and a red-eye can do wonders for a gal needing some East Coast roots.  And yeah, a necessary dose of New York’s finest “fuggedaboutit” attitude. No business trip to hitch a ride with Husband? Not a problem! I did the next best thing, speed dialed #1, aka Mr. Best, my number one go to guy. That “Fractional Ownership” contract was executed and I was ready to spread my wings for a gastronomical adventure like no other.  The minute my red heels hit New Jersey’s terra firma, (don’t fret, just Newark Airport ), I knew the next five days would be fast and furious. Only one answer…Red Bull & Vodka!

Cocktails at Todd English Restaurant near Broadway, made me feel blushed even before hitting the garnish. That swank sake splashed concoction had an edge that could knock the sash off your Kimono. Surprisingly, at the last minute we nabbed front row seats to the play “The Mountain Top” starring Angela Bassett (a wonder to behold) and Samuel L. Jackson. But Best had his own surprise up his cashmere sleeve.  Soon we were driving up an impressive 2 mile entrance to Natirar, home of the once and famous King of Morocco for dinner. Take the influence of Virgin Airlines maverick Sir Richard Branson and two farmers from Vermont and you’ve got something even the Queen would embrace.       (I forgot to pack my tiara and princess slippers!)

Securing a spot at the Chef’s table without a reservation made Mr. Best feel like “Sully” landing that plane in the Hudson River. Calm, cool, collected and an absolute stud. Upon greeting me, Chef David C. Felton of Ninety Acres kissed the air above my knuckles. (Damn, recognized again.) With the freshest ingredients from it’s own organic farm, chef explained every dish in a tantalizing 5-course tasting menu.  Tender grilled octopus and littleneck clams with white beans, oregano and lemon made for excellent starters. I saw the twinkle in Best’s eye as he leaned over a plate of Natirar’s Berkshire pig, organic carrots and Oak Grove brussel sprouts. Pheasant with bluefoot mushrooms & beets satisfied my urge without having to reach for control top pantyhose the next morning. Once dessert arrived I contemplated the tragedy of leaving half of it on the plate vs depositing it directly onto my hips. I left it and instead plotted my return with Husband. Having a great meal served by people that care in a place that Henry Hudson himself came to over 400 years ago…priceless. While exiting, these stalker eyes captured a cognac room….hey, it might have been a long, luscious meal but there was always room for a nightcap.  I like to go dancing after dinner, but feeling the cumulative effects of local wine, cognac and fatigue, the only place this gal was dancing to was off to bed…