Comfort in the Familiarity
We stay because Anatevka is our home... And how do we keep our balance? That, I can tell you in one word: Tradition!
- Tevye, Fiddler on the Roof.
When they live with their parents, children are, at least somewhat, bound by the traditions and habits of their parents. Now, to say they're 'bound' implies unwillingness on their part, which isn't always the case. My parents, for example, were huge Scrabble players, but since I enjoyed the game too, our nightly games were a happy tradition that I enjoyed participating in. The tradition of visiting relatives at Christmas was a fun tradition because I enjoyed spending time with my extended family.
The West Village
When a child moves away from home, the structure of those traditions falls away. It's nobody's fault, of course; it's just that my parents aren't around to play Scrabble each night and visiting my extended family now requires a plane ticket. Since I've moved to New York, I need to find new traditions to take the place of the old ones.
Some of these are naturally taken care of -- the reason they call room-mates 'family' is that they fulfill many of the same roles: I eat with them and interact with them on a daily basis. It's why NYU always (rightly) touts freshmen dorms as 'home away from home'.
Even so, there are some traditions that can't be filled. These are new traditions that I get to create. Followers of my old blog and my Twitter are probably aware of my love for the cafe La Cucina. Obviously, the food there is good, but I think the appeal of going there a couple times a month wasn't just the food or the ambience, it was the community and the tradition -- seeing the same people, sharing a laugh, and finding comfort in the familiarity.
I'm in the middle of trying to find a cafe like that here in New York. Obviously, there are hundreds (if not thousands) of good cafes and restaurants in Manhattan, but I'm looking for somewhere with that same brand of closeness that held La Cucina together and gave it its charm.
Cafe Minerva
I think I've found it in Cafe Minerva, at 302 W 4th St. It's a 13-minute walk from my dorm through the endlessly picturesque West Village. I've been there twice since I moved to New York, and I can see it becoming a regular haunt of mine. Obviously, I can't eat there every day, but like La Cucina, the occasional treat is what makes it special.
Adulthood is all about greater degrees of responsibility and autonomy, but one of the more nuanced parts of becoming an adult, I think, is the realization that your spare time is your own. It's yours to do with as you please -- spending it doing what you want with who you want.
That's exciting.
(Brief anecdote on the subject: I was hanging out in my dorm one of the nights last week when a friend texts me at 10.50pm asking me if I'd like to do something that night. We ended up grabbing food at a salad bar in Union Square and chatting until 2am.)
