Archive for Bed Stuy

Ms Dahlia’s Cafe and N-Diya Spa- Bedstuy Represent

Posted in Food, Guide to What's Good with tags , , , , , , on November 30, 2009 by thebrooklynsocialite

Lately, there have been two noteworthy openings in the hood. Bed-stuy, Nostrand ave, right next door to each other in fact. One boasts food for the soul and the other can provide physical healing, among other things. The first is Ms. Dahlia’s cafe on Nostrand between Hancock and Halsey, right by the A. They have great coffee, including decaf espresso, yes hood, you finally answered my prayers, and there’s more, they have a self-serve, massive cinnamon shaker! I have a not so secret cinnamon addiction so this suits me just fine. They also have a fairly priced collection of food items that are not a. Chinese chicken b. Jamaican patties or c.pizza, so this is exactly what the neighborhood needs.

A few sample menu items include:

Bagels and Balthazar breads with spreads

Belgian Waffles

Homemade Biscuits

Omelets

Sandwiches/ Soups

Sweets: including Cupcakes and excellent pie!

They also have some pretty amazing Cucumber Lemonade. I recommend it!

Here is a pic of the two lovely owners:

And one of my friends, Decaf Latte and Cinnamon.

As for their stupendous neighbor, I can only continue to rave. Safiya at N-Diya, gives great massages and for the best prices around for miles. $95 gets you a 60 minute Aromatherapy massage and you can get a facial for even less. She makes all of her own products using super natural ingredients. Shampoo without sodium laurel sulfate and leave-in conditioner made out of rosemary, lemongrass, and coconut oil. Trust me it smells great and it works. I know this sounds like an info-mercial, but it’s all true! Check them both out and let me know what you think xR

Country Living

Posted in day off with tags , , , , , , , , , , on May 14, 2009 by thebrooklynsocialite

Hunh, I just wrote this whole post and then when I published it it was blank. What’s up with that? WordPress gods swoop down into the country and save me. That’s a command. Not being heeded it seems.

Nevermind, I will just have to start over. My last post was about how strange it is to be in the country. It’s like the polar opposite of my actual everyday life. Rather than dance parties, there is a local brasserie with live harp music tonight. Instead of constant speed, chatter, noise, vibrancy, there is just silence, interrupted by the occasional lawnmower or bird song.

This location is bringing out the chef in me though, soon this is going to morph into a recipe blog, but not yet. I’m holding out, remembering the days of social activity and not letting that woman at the garage sale call me a mom, and get away with it. She really did, it must be the mini-van that I’m driving. Not mine of course, part of the house sitting bundle, I even feel weird using it though, it’s funny, I feel like Where would I go? and Isn’t it a waste of energy to drive? Definitely not a middle of American, surely guilty as charged, I’m a City Folk.

I tried buying baubles at a antique shop and watching hummingbirds and little caterpillars. Actually, these acts were all fun, but I had a visceral feeling of being out of place. Am I allowed to sit around and do nothing but enjoy being alive? That is so faux pas in NYC, let’s face it. Running around, being creative, or trying to make money, or be smart or whatever, that’s kinda the flow in the shitty isn’t it. It’s ok to say yes.

I say this not disparagingly. I miss the place like really a lot. Seriously though, I am even beginning to long for the invasions of space and the irritating little noises and disturbances. They come with vitality, expression — Life. I miss Brooklyn.

Obama, Obama, Obama! Chisholm72, Santos Party House, Madiba

Posted in film, Guide to What's Good, Party with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 6, 2008 by thebrooklynsocialite

Every morning I hypothetically kiss the ground of this wonderful piece of Earth called Brooklyn. Clearly, I love it a lot, but yesterday it literally kissed me back! Although Obama has long since been declared president of Bed Stuy, last night it became official, and I couldn’t have been happier. My friends were crying, fireworks went off in the park, strangers hugged me enthusiastically and Brooklyn kissed me back!

Wait, I started too soon, let’s go back to the voting booth. There I was standing for too long, when the old woman at the registration table shouted, “Pull the lever!”. Right, I knew that, pull it twice and in between exercise Agency. Or as Obama would say, “Yes We Can.” I floated out of the booth feeling like something of a rock star, and washed into the Activate party at Tom and Jerry’s. The charm of post-academics quickly wore thin, and after an hour I was ready for Stranger than Fiction.

Chisholm72 was truly an inspiring film. I would love to talk more about it soon. I told the director Shola Lynch that she was on my good list and better get ready for an interview, seems like she was amenable, so more on her and the film later. For now, I will just say that Shirley was deeply inspiring, especially in these times when we are re-investing in Heros. The first black congresswoman, and from Brooklyn, who presided over Bed Stuy (really!), Chilsholm was also the first woman to seriously run for president. A great speaker and a true believer in paving the way for systemic change. She stood up for the Black Panthers, Native Americans, feminists, poor people and Black Americans. In sticking with our recent themes, Shola’s next film will be about Angela Davis.

After the film, I arrived back in Brooklyn in time to chill over a drink and a television set at Bonita’s, the swanky cool Mexican fusion joint on Dekalb which is closely affiliated with No 7. The verdict came in so early and by that insane landslide, you know what happened next (Brooklyn kissed me back). The street revelry spilled back into a bar, this time Madiba. We had to watch the acceptance speech. Champagne was popped, whiskey was inhaled, the restaurant owner sincerely thanked us all for sharing this historic moment with him and as the confetti started to settle, we knew that the party must not stop.

We hit Santos Party House. Oh my God, it was hot! Q-tip was DJing, as if that weren’t enough, Busta Rhymes was suddenly spinning and talking to us. Was this for real? We had a black president, Busta Rhymes was in the flesh spitting the word, a person I went to High School with identified me (somehow in my state of drunken revelry) and everything was fine. Yes I said, I believe.