At Home in Park Slope

by Elisa Phillips

Brooklyn, New York, specifically Park Slope, feels like home. It has that comfortable old sweater cozy feel that strokes something deep inside me. I have never lived in Park Slope, but yet when I visit, it feels as if I am in my neighborhood. When in fact, I am really in my best friend’s neighborhood, the place she calls home.

In truth, I have visited Park Slope four times and I have fallen in love. The charming neighborhood stores and the great little restaurants and shops welcome me with open arms. Hardly noticing that I am a foreigner in their midst.

It is Friday and I am wandering the neighborhood, not knowing where it is I am going. Heeding my best friend’s advice, “Park Slope is a grid and YOU cannot get lost”, I walk up the block and turn right, determined to explore and just let myself sink into the rhythm of life in the city. I have no agenda, a first for me. Normally I come to the Big Apple and I have a list of things I plan to accomplish and I map them out and I attack the list with zeal. On this day, I walk, aimless and planless and free.

This trip, I was content to just be. In fact in the 3 days I was in the city, I stayed in Brooklyn. I did not make the trip into Manhattan at all.

The sky was a bright blue and I was out and about after a long cold Ohio winter, dressed in a few layers and a bright green sweater. Feeling the fresh air and soaking up the sunshine, walking on the street and counting the doors, in the row houses and brownstones. Some buildings so beautiful like peacocks, with bright inviting doors in hues of pink or blue and others more drab, but each individual and different and wonderfully so. Each with a story to tell of home and hearth and family and parades of yesterday and the windows very much the eyes and ears which illuminate the apartments and homes of the people who truly do call Park Slope home. I was merely an observer, a visitor for a few days and yet, I felt at home. I could see myself living in one of these buildings, with a pink entry door. I could see myself walking these streets searching for coffee each day.

I treated myself to a delicious café au lait, in a tiny little coffee shop, whose name escapes me. Then I wandered in and out of little shops and window shopping, soaking up the fresh air and the beautiful cloud dotted sky.

Then my empty stomach took charge of my jaunt around the neighborhood. I did not have to look far, I saw the bright red sign and immediately knew I had to go inside and check out The Perch Café. A cross between your grandmother’s kitchen and a little French bistro, Perch is long on style and big on taste! I had the best chop salad that I can recall. Piled high with mixed greens, bacon, chicken and very ripe tomato and avocado slices. I sat on a banquette and enjoyed the view and wrote for well over an hour. Peaceful and yet energizing. I was not the only one availing myself of the great vibe. One of the things I am learning to enjoy, the longer I indulge in the “café culture” is there truly is something to the vibe and energy of the coffee shop and the café, from an artistic perspective. My time at Perch proved that. That and the young lady behind the counter was very cute and her sense of style matched the casual elegance of the café perfectly.

After my lunch, I wandered a bit more before heading back to read and relax and wait for my friends to end their work day.

Before dinner, my friend and I walked to the pet shop with her dog and we stopped in the wine shop for some wine. Picada y Vino (http://www.picadayvino.com) is a cute wine shop, with an amazing selection and a wonderful vibe. That evening in celebration of their 6 month anniversary, they were sampling some rare and wonderful wines. A generous taste and some chocolate, my kind of shopping and relaxing rolled into one.

I think for me, as I get older and settle into my middle years, I am drawn to people and places which exude passion. I am trying to live every day with deliberation and I love to see others succeeding at the same. I love to see a woman’s passion for wine, become her business and a thriving one at that! It is empowering and it is exciting. By proxy, I suppose, my purchase makes me apart of that, more so than when I go to a corporate owned venture and feed the corporate coffers.

The next day, I went to DUMBO (DOWN UNDER THE MANHATTEN BRIDGE OVERPASS) to a pop up flea (market.) It was wonderful. In two empty store fronts, this charming crafting and flee market has grown and it is a true destination for many Brooklynites. In the summer it is outside, but in the winter it is inside and I think it was wonderfully charming. All full of men and women, who are creating their own commerce and or living out their passion for life through their art or their craft. The buzz of energy in this space was wonderful also.

After that it was back on the subway and after a few stops we indulge in more shopping on Atlantic Avenue, a mix of chain stores and locally owned boutiques.

I still do not know why I feel so at home in a place I have never lived. In truth, I am not sure I could really make my home in New York, but for that tiny slice of time, enjoying the culture and the energy, I felt as much at home as I have anywhere. Is it the escape from real life which is clouding my mind or is it perhaps, there where no one really knows me, I am free to just be?