Hell's Kitchen and NYC's Midtown West

Thanks to the good graces of my SMIL (son’s mother-in-law) and her son and his partner, last night I reveled in good company, a great Mexican dinner and a delightful margarita in Hell’s Kitchen at Ariba! Ariba! It was the perfect spring evening to sit at a sidewalk table and catch up with them. Not to be overlooked was the passing parade of New Yorkers eager to get out and enjoy the season.

We had to lean in to hear each other over the sounds of passing conversations and traffic, but that only added to the ambience. Somehow the crowds and the noises and the dogs pulling their owners along the sidewalks added to the party atmosphere.

Also known as Clinton and Midtown West, this part of New York has been the setting for many novels by writers from Ayn Rand to Mario Puzo and Clive Cussler. It was also the backdrop, I was told, for West Side Story.

Close to the Broadway theatres, the area is now home to many actors and has undergone renewal and resurgence as a trendy part of the city since the 1990’s. It is vibrant and diverse, offering every imaginable cuisine in a series of tiny restaurants with tables spilling onto the sidewalks.

I was curious about the name, Hell’s Kitchen. However appropriate the cooking reference might be, as evidenced in all the restaurants, a little research indicates that where the name originally came from is hard to pin down. Most references point to the neighborhood’s rough past when it was home to gangs and “the most desperate ruffians in the city,” according to author Herbert Asbury. His 1927 book, The Gangs of New York, inspired the Scorcese film of the same name.

One colorful fable about the origin of the neighborhood’s name says that a rookie policeman, witnessing a riot in what was then a violent and unstable part of the city, said to his veteran partner: “This place is Hell itself.” The veteran replied, “Hell’s a mild climate. This is Hell’s Kitchen, no less.”

However the name came about, the area today is full of life and good food, entertainment and, luckily for me, proximity to so many options. It is within easy walking distance of great theatre, the Museum of Modern Art and Central Park. It’s close enough to the Hudson to hear the sounds of boats passing. Every block has an abundance of architectural diversity and a multitude of languages are spoken along the sidewalks and in the shops.

This morning I went out early in search of a needed pharmacy item, trekking from one drug store to another before successfully my quest a few blocks away. My ride down in the elevator was enlivened by the excited squeals of two young neighbors anticipating a special outing today. I shared the sidewalks with those eating their breakfast as they headed for work, others in exercise garb beginning their day. I passed the neighborhood precinct where a shift change had uniforms parading in and out.

As one of the first customers in the local pharmacy where I finally ended my search, I had to duck under the half-raised security gate to enter. Apparently some electrical problems had affected their building overnight, so things weren’t working quite right. The basement storage room was dark and the clerk gamely went there with a flashlight to get what we needed. New Yorkers are nothing if not adaptable.

In a corner coffee shop where I stopped to buy breakfast pastries, I ran into someone that I had worked with years ago in Atlanta. Now successful in network news, he might not have remembered me from our brief working acquaintance, but he was gracious nonetheless.

I’ve written before about things I like about New York City. I think that above all other traits this city has for me to admire is the sense that anything is possible here. Despite the rigors of living in a relatively small area with millions of other people, the sheer electricity of the experience is energizing.