When I got my letter of acceptance from Penn State five years ago, I remember thinking, "Holy Smokes! I'm going to get to see snow for the first time in my life. I'm going to get to see the leaves in all their fiery hues, just like the stunning photograph on my wall calendar". I was bursting with anticipation.
I landed in State College on a cool summer night. As we rode home, I was struck by how dark and quiet it was the whole ride home. The air bore smells freshly cut grass and of manure from the farms. We could listen to the crickets without having to strain our ears.
Having been brought up in a city which only gets hotter with every passing summer and suffocating and bursting at its seams, it felt nice to have some space at last. The first few months marked my infatuation with small town life. The familiar sights and sounds, the peace and quiet, the friendly people. This pastoral bovine existence; I could get used to this, I thought. But all that changed on a fateful December day...
The whirlwind of a first semester was over all too soon; time dissolved in long tea-filled study sessions with new friends, scrambling to find used furniture, wild partying and roommate squabbles. Thus, while still catching my breath after my exams, I set foot in Lafayette Street in the New York City China Town neighborhood at four in the morning on a frigid December morning. I was asleep during the bus ride there and only looked up when I was forcibly ejected from it, by a rude driver who wouldn't get my luggage out because I didn't have change to tip him. I was suddenly amidst all the things I had left behind in India. Trash on the streets, dust, blinding lights, smells that reminded me of home. Add to that the spine-bending skyscrapers, and most importantly, restaurants that were open past nine in the evening. Suddenly, I missed all that. I didn't even realize I did. I didn't realize how antiseptic and numbing the 'perfect little-town' existence was. I realized that I was young again, filled with life. Filled with feeling. I craved to constantly be on the move, to be a part of the pulsating city life. Over the next few days I went about the cliched tourist experience in a frenzy; stopping now and then to pick my jaw up. I came across landmarks from my favorite sitcoms. I was in love.
When I returned to State College after that trip, my relationship with the small town began to sour rapidly. I started complaining about the very things that I had loved about it - the quiet, the smells, the familiarity, the lack of things to do. It was all beginning to infuriate me. I vowed to go to the city as often as time permitted. And I did. Over the next year or two, I made seven or eight trips. I discovered new neighborhoods, new foods, new kinds of people. I met my husband on the bus to the city, and together, we have come back several more times. We have had dreams of making the city our home one day. Of starting a cafe' bookstore one day like our beloved Webster's cafe back in State College.
But in the course of five years and numerous trips to the city something changed. Suddenly the fascination wore off. The long periods in the subways got to us. The constant exhaustion we felt, got to us. We also came to realize that to live in the city means working crazy hours and living in a tiny cramped apartment somewhere. If we wanted to live in slightly more spacious dwellings we'd have to move to (gasp!) suburban New Jersey and have to make the tiring commute everyday. Somehow, that didn't seem too appealing to us.
But also, in these five years, we have learned to love the rustic charm of small town life. We have taken up hiking, camping and experiencing the quiet joy of being outdoors. I have discovered my culinary abilities and the lack of restaurants doesn't seem to bother me anymore. We still need the occasional injection of city-madness, but we can only take it in small doses.
We recently went to the city to celebrate our anniversary. After subway hopping for three very rainy days, and several gastronomic indulgences under our belt, we returned home. On our way back, when we saw the "Welcome to Pennsylvania" sign, we exchanged a knowing smile. It was good to be home.
One of the best things about summer in State College is the downtown farmers market on Fridays. It is still quite early in the season; so not all of the vendors were around. But I did manage to bag a pint of fresh strawberries that were devoured over the sink as they were being rinsed. I also made strawberry-cherry frozen yoghurt for dessert. It is the perfect way to end a cool summer night. We planted some mint in our balcony last month and they are now flourishing. As a last minute inspiration I added a few chopped sprigs to this zingy-fruity dessert, which took this to a whole new level.
We Netflixed (yes, it is a verb in our household) Woody Allen's Manhattan to begin our weekend. It is a lasting tribute to this magnificent city; every frame crafted to perfection. I want to watch it all over again and wrap myself in all its black and white splendor. My favorite scene is the one with Allen and Keaton sitting facing the Brooklyn bridge, only their silhouettes visible. A young Meryl Streep as Allen's bisexual ex-wife just took my breath away.
I landed in State College on a cool summer night. As we rode home, I was struck by how dark and quiet it was the whole ride home. The air bore smells freshly cut grass and of manure from the farms. We could listen to the crickets without having to strain our ears.
Having been brought up in a city which only gets hotter with every passing summer and suffocating and bursting at its seams, it felt nice to have some space at last. The first few months marked my infatuation with small town life. The familiar sights and sounds, the peace and quiet, the friendly people. This pastoral bovine existence; I could get used to this, I thought. But all that changed on a fateful December day...
The whirlwind of a first semester was over all too soon; time dissolved in long tea-filled study sessions with new friends, scrambling to find used furniture, wild partying and roommate squabbles. Thus, while still catching my breath after my exams, I set foot in Lafayette Street in the New York City China Town neighborhood at four in the morning on a frigid December morning. I was asleep during the bus ride there and only looked up when I was forcibly ejected from it, by a rude driver who wouldn't get my luggage out because I didn't have change to tip him. I was suddenly amidst all the things I had left behind in India. Trash on the streets, dust, blinding lights, smells that reminded me of home. Add to that the spine-bending skyscrapers, and most importantly, restaurants that were open past nine in the evening. Suddenly, I missed all that. I didn't even realize I did. I didn't realize how antiseptic and numbing the 'perfect little-town' existence was. I realized that I was young again, filled with life. Filled with feeling. I craved to constantly be on the move, to be a part of the pulsating city life. Over the next few days I went about the cliched tourist experience in a frenzy; stopping now and then to pick my jaw up. I came across landmarks from my favorite sitcoms. I was in love.
When I returned to State College after that trip, my relationship with the small town began to sour rapidly. I started complaining about the very things that I had loved about it - the quiet, the smells, the familiarity, the lack of things to do. It was all beginning to infuriate me. I vowed to go to the city as often as time permitted. And I did. Over the next year or two, I made seven or eight trips. I discovered new neighborhoods, new foods, new kinds of people. I met my husband on the bus to the city, and together, we have come back several more times. We have had dreams of making the city our home one day. Of starting a cafe' bookstore one day like our beloved Webster's cafe back in State College.
But in the course of five years and numerous trips to the city something changed. Suddenly the fascination wore off. The long periods in the subways got to us. The constant exhaustion we felt, got to us. We also came to realize that to live in the city means working crazy hours and living in a tiny cramped apartment somewhere. If we wanted to live in slightly more spacious dwellings we'd have to move to (gasp!) suburban New Jersey and have to make the tiring commute everyday. Somehow, that didn't seem too appealing to us.
But also, in these five years, we have learned to love the rustic charm of small town life. We have taken up hiking, camping and experiencing the quiet joy of being outdoors. I have discovered my culinary abilities and the lack of restaurants doesn't seem to bother me anymore. We still need the occasional injection of city-madness, but we can only take it in small doses.
We recently went to the city to celebrate our anniversary. After subway hopping for three very rainy days, and several gastronomic indulgences under our belt, we returned home. On our way back, when we saw the "Welcome to Pennsylvania" sign, we exchanged a knowing smile. It was good to be home.
One of the best things about summer in State College is the downtown farmers market on Fridays. It is still quite early in the season; so not all of the vendors were around. But I did manage to bag a pint of fresh strawberries that were devoured over the sink as they were being rinsed. I also made strawberry-cherry frozen yoghurt for dessert. It is the perfect way to end a cool summer night. We planted some mint in our balcony last month and they are now flourishing. As a last minute inspiration I added a few chopped sprigs to this zingy-fruity dessert, which took this to a whole new level.
 |  |
Strawberry-Cherry Frozen Yogurt Serves: 2 Prep time: 2.5 hours Active prep time: 2 minutes | |
|---|---|
| Ingredients | |
| Greek/Plain Yogurt | 3 cups |
| Honey | 2 Tbsp |
| Fresh Strawberries | 5-6 chopped |
| Cherry Preserves | 2 Tbsp |
| Lemon Zest | 1 tbsp |
| Lemon Juice | 1/2 lemon |
| Mint | 5-6 leaves choppe |
| Method 1.Combine everything in a freezer friendly dish. Use your ice-cream maker or do what I did. Just toss in the freezer; keep mixing every half an hour until set. Note This recipe is adapted from this source; but I omitted the fresh cream to keep it healthy. I am fairly sure that not everyone likes the tartness of Greek Yogurt. So I recommend using regular yogurt instead, but then I'm not sure how creamy it may turn out. | |
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