72 Perfect Hours Upstate

A formula for an unbeatable escape from the city

My brother moved to Tivoli, New York in 2012, and lived there for the better part of a decade. Between college and post-grad work, he spent years tucked into a beautiful corner of town, overlooking the Hudson, with the sounds of trains passing every few hours. I never spent quite as much time in Tivoli as I would have liked, only visiting a time or two while he was still in school, attending his graduation, and spending a few weeks there one summer to help on the farm he was running for his bosses. The times I visited, though, made clear that this was a special place—my brother cooking dinner on his rooftop patio, the magic of Fortunes Ice Cream in the summer, the pervasive peace and quiet.

Moving to the city, I, like many other city-dwellers, began to crave weekends with a bit less noise and a bit more air. Once drawn to the Berkshires for the nostalgia of summer camp years, the Catskills began to call to me in a similar way. Sometimes for work, sometimes for play, sometimes for no reason at all, I have had some pretty amazing trips driving up the Taconic Parkway to find a little extra room to breathe.

Last weekend, I celebrated my birthday in a small house with my friends in Catskill. All I wanted to ring in the occasion was to cook a big dinner and lay on the couch. I know every New York food person has posted about heading upstate and the many things to do, but we more or less cracked the code for a formula to recreate the magic every time. It was the best 72 hours, and I left with no notes, only asterisks where I wish we had more time.

This week’s letter is going to be too long for your email because there are a lot of pictures—be sure to view the whole thing on the Substack app or browser!

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Saturday, March 8

By 10am, coffees from Villager were in hand and we were on the road, a relatively short drive ahead of us with an incredible lack of traffic on a Saturday morning. After a pitstop at Walmart for Nerds clusters and film, we made it to Hudson around 12pm and headed straight for Mel—I was desperate for a Blueberry Einkorn Muffin, and we were all ready for more caffeine. With tomato pies, jalapeno-cheddar pretzel croissants, and cappuccinos in hand, we headed to Talbott & Arding—Disney World for provision-lovers full of pre-made food, gorgeous produce, and any speciality oil, dip, and cheese you could dream of. Marley was in need of a gluten-free treat, we needed some last ingredients for dinner, and obviously some tulips for the table.

We checked in to our adorable AirBnB, unloaded groceries, and headed back into town. We started at The Antique Warehouse, which, if you haven’t been, is worth dedicating two hours to. It is precisely what it claims to be: a sprawling maze of antique vendors with impeccable taste, records and blouses hanging in corners alongside full-size taxidermy giraffes, mid-century lighting fixtures, and beautiful leather couches. There is a lot to see, and it is worth taking your time to get a closer look at everything.

We headed to Kitty’s for a brief pitstop and a snack (iced teas, raspberry crullers, a crisp apple), and then to Grapefruit Wines for a few bottles of Pet-Nat for the evening. The wine store, with sleek light-birch shelving and late-afternoon sun illuminating walls of wine bottles, felt like a candy store. Before leaving town, we visited a few of my favorites: Nina Z for vintage trench coats and lace-trim pants, Old Books for… old books, IPSUM for blackberry candles, Meridian for men's clothes I can’t afford but like to look at, river shoppe for fancy combs and everything nice-smelling, and Little Rico for a ginger shot just because.

We got home and I got started on dinner, much of which I had prepped the day before and brought with us. I am clinically inept at gauging the correct quantity of food for any number of guests, and this meal was no exception. All I knew was I wanted a veggie-forward feast to serve my friends. I ended up with a lot of dishes, all but one of which came from The Cook You Want to Be, one of my most used cookbooks of all time.

The menu:

My absolute favorite marinated olives with citrus peels, bay leaves, coriander, red pepper, and fennel

Blistered Jimmy Nardello peppers with fresh mozzarella, and the infused frying oil drizzled over top with Maldon

Borani esfanaaj—an Iranian yogurt dip with spinach, walnuts, and sizzled mint

The Estela chicory salad with hazelnuts, manchego, and a very involved vinaigrette

Pomegranate spoon salad flush with fresh green herbs, serrano peppers, and cucumber

Fried halloumi with sesame and honey

Caramelized koginut squash with a golden raisin agrodolce and pistachio za’atar, and all served with a loaf of olive and sunflower seed sourdough from Mel.

it is important to have friends that will photograph your food as you plate it

I also made myself a birthday cake—a lemon-poppy layer cake with a meyer lemon soak, and olive oil swiss meringue buttercream. It was perfect.

We drank and ate and gossiped sitting on cushions around the living room coffee table, until we had to give up on the food-for-20 I had prepared and went to bed.

Sunday, March 9th

7am wake-up (previously agreed upon, without realizing it was also daylight savings and we had opted to wake up at what our bodies thought was 6am) to head to Big Towel for a 2 hour session in their little cabin saunas. We braved the cold plunge—some of us more successfully than others—and deeply confused our body temps. Very good start to the day.

We went straight to Circles for sourdough bagels (they had a gluten free bagel!!) and caffeine. I had a sesame bagel with cream cheese, shiso, chili crisp, cucumber, and smoked salmon (insane). We ordered most of the menu between us and walked away happy, though lethargic in a way that we couldn’t discern as relaxed or exhausted. We went back to the house for showers, reading, knitting, and napping for the better part of the afternoon.

Needing to mobilize, we took a quick jaunt to Catskill and got some salves and teas at Stinging Nettle Botanics, popped into Sister Salvage 2.0 and Toko Provisions (more provisions!) and then drove out to A. Therien—which accidentally turned into a work meeting—and fawned over the owner’s collection of archival books, artwork, and vintage furniture. Off-the-beaten-path, just as he likes it.

We went home, did a quick change, and headed out for a 45 minute drive to a very special birthday dinner—we listened to all our favorite songs as the sun started to take on its golden hue right above the horizon. It was a good moment. Dinner was at Stissing House, an all-time restaurant for me, from the inimitable

Clare de Boer

. Stissing House is a gem in Pine Plains, New York, a sophisticated and unfussy tavern in a 200+ year old house. Candles in cast iron holders and mise stations adorned with flowers fill each room, alongside wooden tables with white tablecloths and wood-paneled chairs.

Every meal here feels special—an ambience the city may try to recreate but will never quite achieve. Tables are full of laughter and ease, couples are dressed up for date night and friends are dining in jeans. A mountain of butter sits stoically on the pass, feet from a massive coconut cake waiting to be cut for its lucky recipients. Stissing House has mastered a menu that is rich and comforting, but not overbearing. Irresistible snacks set the stage—a warm broth served in a tea cup with a bouquet garni, a plate of shaved Jake’s Gouda (the best cheese in the world), bread with a healthy dose of salted butter, are all just a warm up. In-season vegetables get celebratory treatment—artichokes with aioli, beets with citrus and pistachio, little gems with radish and peas, scallops served in the shell with a never-enough portion of green goddess herby butter (dip your bread in what is left in the shell), leeks vinaigrette served in crumpled parchment paper with a goat’s milk cheese and whole grain dijon mustard—all part of Clare’s masterclass in simplicity and letting quality ingredients shine.

The mains, trout wrapped in bacon with butter beans, steak with horseradish cream and sauteed greens, a steaming and hearty pie – which last week was venison, but previously had been a delightful mix of white fish and potatoes, were all perfect. The big green salad—yes it is $20—is a must-order. Crunchy green leaves have no business being so delicious and fresh—a perfect reprieve from the richness and warmth of the entrees.

The wine is exceptional; both of our bottles were worthy of a photo to remember and purchase at a later date, and the cocktails are divine. And yet somehow, of all of this, the dessert always steals the show. I dream of Clare’s coconut cake, a pillow of a white cake with a whipped cream frosting, light and airy in a way I could never replicate. A rye brownie hot fudge sundae garnished with a maraschino cherry and fresh whipped cream, an almond pudding with an absolutely insane prune and armagnac ice cream, scoops of ice cream served in silver coupes—the coffee toffee crunch was even better than expected. There were no misses, and as always, it was hard to leave that table.

We went home, weary from our celebrations, and got some rest for our final day together.

Monday, March 10th

Instructed to stay in bed until summoned, I awoke on my birthday to my friends whispering in the kitchen, preparing (for two hours) the sweetest and most beautiful birthday breakfast spread I have ever seen. We feasted on berries and pancakes before cleaning, packing up, and heading towards the city. We made an afternoon of it, of course, stopping in Beacon for some shopping. Little King is one of the greatest retail experiences in the entire state, and I stand by that, we had coffee at Big Mouth, whose hippo mascot I adore, I got Jake’s Gouda for the road from Beacon Cheese Shop, and the best focaccia I have ever had at Ember & Grain, which later turned into a baller sandwich stuffed with leftovers and fancy butters and cheeses we had collected over the weekend. Finally, we made our way to Dia:Beacon.

It had been only a few weeks prior when I last visited, and I was already dying to return. A sunny, warmer than usual day at Dia is the best way I could have possibly spent my birthday. We wandered aimlessly for hours, admiring Louise Bourgeois’ spiders, Andy Warhol’s Shadows, Richard Serra’s steel sculptures, and Steve McQueen’s takeover of Dia’s lower level— a garage filled with slowly changing lighting and bass-heavy sounds reverberating through an echoey space. With our art fix handled, our wallets feeling a bit sad, and a quick sandwich fashioned in the trunk of the car, we made our way back to the city. It was hard to see the skyline as we came over the bridge; I was ready to turn right back around. The Catskills will still be there though, and I will always be excited to return.

The formula for an unbeatable weekend was: small and cozy AirBnB + car for exploring + one meal with fresh produce and good wine at home for every meal out + as much time for resting on the couch as for antiquing and art.

*The only two stops we didn’t have time for were Cafe Mutton (those crepes are stupid good), and Magazzino. Next time :)

Also on the docket for my next trip…

SILVIA

Eliza

MANITOGA

Olana