SiMPL #014 Sights, Smells, and the People Who Shape Our Stories
Exploring the Little Details That Make Big Memories
What we see, smell, hear, and taste isn’t just a fleeting experience—it’s how we make memories and shape the way we see the world.
New York City became the perfect backdrop for this idea. From the smell of nutmeg at a Christmas market to reconnecting with old friends, this trip wasn’t about landmarks—it was about the moments and sensory details that linger long after you leave.
But let’s leave the philosophy and psychology for later. Now, a story.
Ah, and while you’re reading, start thinking about a memory you have. There will be a challenge—a test, if you will—later on.
Bryant Park: First Landmark
Ellis and Ken were our first meet-up in New York, and honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better introduction to the city. Bryant Park, with its holiday market in full swing, was the perfect backdrop: warm lights, the smell of baked apple pies, and a steady stream of people.
Ellis, one of Mafer’s good friends from college, hadn’t changed a bit—or so I thought. Well, except he’s way more buffed now. It seems he’s taken the gym even more seriously since the last time we met.
Meeting his husband, Ken, just added to the fun. Together, they gave us our first real glimpse of Manhattan at its core.
Our little group navigated the tourist traps—because you have to get those out of the way first—before indecision inevitably took over. What’s the cure for indecision? As I’ve said before: stick to the usual. And in New York, “the usual” meant burgers.
Ellis led us to a spot in Hell’s Kitchen where we had a fantastic meal, and the conversation flowed effortlessly. Life updates, old memories, and the city’s infectious energy all blended into an unforgettable evening.
By the time we said goodbye, I realized something: the people you meet—or reconnect with—can completely change how you experience a place. Bryant Park wasn’t just a tourist stop anymore; it was part of a story.
The journey started even before we landed in New York…
A Conversation at 30,000 Feet
Some encounters begin with a smile. Others start with a medical emergency.
We were flying somewhere over Cuba when the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, first in Spanish, then in Portuguese, and finally in a very, very bad English. “Is there a doctor on board?” The first call was calm, but by the third, it had become urgent. A doctor finally stood up to tend to what turned out to be a passenger having a panic attack.
As the situation unfolded, the guy sitting next to me leaned over and, in a non-American accent, asked, “What’s happening?” That was Marc.
Marc had just come back from a vacation in Panama, and as we got to talking, it was clear he’d enjoyed every bit of it. We started chatting about bakeries, wine, restaurants, and, of course, New York—where he was heading. Turns out, he’s a Liverpool fan, which made the conversation even better since we could trade stories about football, food, and travel for what felt like hours.
Before we landed, we exchanged contact info, and he gave me some fantastic tips for my New York trip. From must-visit bakeries to hidden ramen spots, his advice would end up shaping some of the best—and most delicious—moments of my stay.
New York wasn’t just about new faces; it was also about reconnecting with old ones.
Can You Be at 52nd and 1st by Noon?
After my day exploring the MET, I found myself walking through Lower Manhattan, trying to make time before my next stop at the Tenement Museum. I spotted the Williamsburg Bridge and decided to take a stroll up to enjoy the view. People were jogging, cycling, and going about their routines, while I took in the city’s buzz.
Halfway across the bridge, my phone buzzed. It was Graciano:
“Hey, let’s meet for lunch. Mark’s in town too. Can you be at 1st Avenue by noon?”
Plans? Changed.
I turned back, hopped on the M102 bus, and made my way uptown. I arrived at 52nd and 1st a little early, and found a small patisserie nearby for a quick coffee. The smell of fresh croissants wafted through the air as I jotted down notes about the morning. Before I knew it, I was sitting with Graciano and Mark, the “Manchester lads,” catching up over wine and fantastic food.
It had been 16 years since we’d last hanged out together, but it didn’t feel like it. We laughed, shared stories, and reminisced about our university days. Social media might have kept us connected all this time, but nothing compares to sitting across the table from old friends.
As I looked around the table, I realized how much life had changed us—yet somehow, we were still the same at heart. It wasn’t just lunch; it was a reunion that made the city feel a little smaller and a lot more personal.
And speaking of connections, Mafer had one of her own waiting for her in New York…
Katz’s Deli: First-Timers and Family Bonds
Katz’s Deli was a must on our list, and it didn’t disappoint. For my wife and me, it was one of those iconic food stops we had to experience. But what made it even more special was sharing it with Luigi—Mafer’s cousin.
After over 20 years of living in New York, this was Luigi’s first time at Katz’s. Yes, really. As someone who’s spent decades in the city, he had never crossed the deli’s threshold, and you could see the curiosity in his eyes as we walked in.
The atmosphere hit us first. The bustling energy of tourists and locals, the clatter of trays, and the sight of towering pastrami sandwiches being served at breakneck speed. It felt like stepping into a time capsule of New York food history.
Now, you know that phrase “I’ve got a guy”? I think it was a Seinfeld skit. Well, my friend Bill was feeding me inside information, and it turns out there’s a local hack for Katz’s. I’ll keep the details safe from the public, but let’s just say we ended up sitting down and ordering from a table, bypassing the usual chaos at the counters.
We ordered one sandwich each, and from the very first bite, it was clear—this wasn’t just food; it was an experience. The layers of pastrami, the way it melted in your mouth, the tangy burst of mustard—it was enough to make you blush. Pictures of that sandwich should come with an NSFW warning. Honestly, food porn doesn’t even cover it.
Luigi and Mafer were deep in conversation, catching up on two decades of life apart, but I was having my own moment. I’d call it a culinary affair, but Mafer knows me too well. By the time I finished my sandwich, I casually reached for half of hers. She didn’t protest. That’s love—or maybe just understanding when it comes to me and good food.
This wasn’t just a meal. It was a moment—a reunion between family members reconnecting after years, shared over what might just be the most sensual, satisfying pastrami sandwich I’ve ever had. For Luigi, Katz’s wasn’t just a first; it became part of his New York story. For me, it became one of those unforgettable sensory experiences that ties a place to a memory forever.
Wait, What? You Also Live in NY? Since When?
The day before, after meeting up with Graciano and Mark, I posted a photo of the three of us having lunch together. It was a simple post, more about nostalgia than anything else. But the next morning, a familiar name popped into my messages: Adam.
“Hey, are you in New York? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Turns out, Adam—one of my old friends from Manchester—was also living in New York. “Let’s meet up,” he suggested. I told him we’d be in the Flatiron District that evening, and just like that, plans changed. Again.
Now, remember how I’ve mentioned “I’ve got a guy”? Well, he recommended the happy hour at Crown Alley—a hidden gem with $8 drinks, one of the best Old Fashioneds in town, and $1 oysters, thanks again Bill. A steal, even compared to Panama. So, when Adam arrived, it became the perfect spot for a proper catch-up.
At first, it was all updates and pleasantries—work, life, the usual. But as the drinks flowed and the vibe of the place settled in, we slipped back into the easy camaraderie we’d had during our Manchester days. After a slight mix-up with the drink order (classic us), the night took a nostalgic turn.
“Let’s go barhopping,” Adam said with a grin.
Challenge accepted.
The Flatiron District came alive at night, buzzing with bars and hidden dives you’d never spot during the day. Each stop had its own story: this one where Bob Dylan supposedly played; that one where a scene from Highlander was filmed. New York, as always, didn’t hold back on its history.
By the time we parted ways, I was having a blast. It wasn’t just a reunion; it was a reminder that some friendships, no matter the time or distance, pick up right where they left off.
But New York wasn’t done surprising me. If anything, the city saved its most colorful characters for last.
Crazy Encounters in a Crazy City
New York isn’t just the city that never sleeps—it’s also the city that never fails to surprise. Beyond the friends, food, and sensory overload, it was the unexpected run-ins with some of its more… colorful characters that made the experience uniquely New York.
Flatiron Coffee Guy
One morning, Mafer and I decided to start the day with a peaceful breakfast in the Flatiron District. I was sipping my coffee, enjoying the moment, when a man began approaching each table, asking for money. His story was vague—something about his daughter—but when he got to our table and I politely declined, his tone shifted.
Let’s just say, if he’d been a wizard, I’d probably still be dealing with the hex he threw my way.
Bus Stop Shouter
Another morning, as we waited for the M102 to take us to breakfast, I decided to give Mafer a quick primer on New York’s bus system. We hopped on, found seats, and not even a minute into the ride, chaos erupted.
From the back of the bus, a man started screaming, “Let me out! LET ME OUT, MOTHER—!” pounding on the doors like his life depended on it. The smell hit us before the shouting stopped—let’s just say he hadn’t boarded the bus to catch a ride. In his mind, he was in a cozy bathroom and he released… ehm, a weight.
The scene escalated, complete with the bus driver throwing verbal jabs that almost turned into a fistfight. Welcome to New York mornings, I guess. At least I’d already had my coffee.
Rockefeller Plaza Rastafarian
And then there was the guy at Rockefeller Plaza—a Rastafarian whose hair was less “style” and more “modern art installation.” His braids were painted silver and twisted into hoops that perched atop his head like something out of a sci-fi movie.
He didn’t say much, but his presence? Unforgettable. As we strolled past, it felt like the city itself had conspired to give us one last surreal moment before the day ended.
Between the bizarre encounters and the sensory overload, New York had one last lesson for me: it’s not just a city; it’s a living, breathing narrative. And every sense has its part to play.
Sensory Details: More Than What Meets the Eye
New York isn’t just a visual spectacle; it’s a sensory feast. Every block, every corner, every unexpected turn offers something for your senses to latch onto—whether you want it to or not.
The Smells
Let’s start with the most polarizing of all: the smells. Near Times Square and 5th Avenue? A mix of burnt oil, stale cigarettes, and, let’s face it, some questionable weed. But venture out into Hell’s Kitchen, the Flatiron District, or the Christmas markets, and it’s like stepping into a new city. The air fills with the warmth of freshly baked bread, the sharp tang of coriander, the comforting richness of coffee, and the spice medley of ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon.
Mid-November in New York smells like a holiday card come to life—minus the burnt pretzel corners, of course.
The Tastes
You already know about Katz’s and its NSFW pastrami sandwiches, but New York doesn’t stop there. From one-dollar pizza slices that hit the spot after a long walk to danish pastries at Ole & Steen, the city is a culinary kaleidoscope.
One day, Mafer and I wandered into a taco stand near the Chrysler Building. Nothing fancy—just simple, perfectly spiced tacos paired with chilled, creamy horchata. There’s something about that cinnamon-laced drink that makes the whole meal feel like a warm hug. It wasn’t just food—it was a moment, one of those unexpected stops that ends up sticking in your memory far longer than it should.
The Sounds
Then there’s the soundtrack. For me, Biggie Smalls’ “Juicy” was playing on loop in my head—not because I was fulfilling some grand dream of seeing New York with fresh eyes (I wasn’t). But this trip had turned into a collection of moments that mattered deeply to both Mafer and me. For her, it was a lifelong dream coming true—taking a class with Ron Ben-Israel, the “Godfather of Wedding Cakes.” Just meeting him was a thrill. And for me, watching her light up with excitement was as fulfilling as if it had been my own dream.
Well, almost anything. For me, the real dream was tucked between two slices of rye bread at Katz’s.
But the city added its own track: the constant chatter of diners, the rhythmic clanking of subway trains, the hum of street performers, and the occasional shout of someone—probably angry at a bus driver.
All these sensory moments—from the smell of cardamom at a Christmas market to the sound of laughter with old friends—reminded me of something simple yet profound: our memories are shaped not by the big landmarks but by the tiny, vivid details in between.
Small Details Define Big Memories
Through these stories, I’ve shared my experience of New York—16 smells, 11 encounters, and 10 vivid places. This is how we humans experience life and create memories.
In the last newsletter, I talked about perception—how it’s built from fragments of moments that stick with us. Now you can see how perception is shaped by all these small, seemingly insignificant details: the smell of cinnamon, the laughter of an old friend, the unique quirks of strangers we meet along the way. These pieces create a personal definition of a place, an experience, a memory.
This isn’t just about New York or even travel. It’s about how our senses, emotions, and connections make every moment uniquely ours.
Here’s a Challenge for You
Think of a place you’ve visited before—a vacation spot, a childhood hangout, or even a favorite coffee shop. What do you remember about it? Is it the smell of the air, the laughter of the people you were with, the colors, or the little incidents that made it special?
Now, here’s a challenge: What did you remember? Who did you think about? If this brought someone—or a group of someones—to mind, share this newsletter with them. Let them know how they’re part of the memories you still cherish.
Because every memory shared is a story worth telling—and maybe it’ll remind them of something too.
Book Recommendation: Holmes, Marple & Poe: The Greatest Crime-Solving Team of the Twenty-First Century
I know what you’re thinking—Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, and Edgar Allan Poe in the same story? How does that even work?
Last year, I fell victim to Amazon’s relentless marketing algorithms. This book kept popping up every time I turned off my Kindle, like some literary version of a song stuck in your head. Eventually, I gave in and pre-ordered it.
When it finally arrived, it became my first read of 2024. And you know what? It didn’t disappoint. It’s not the best book I’ve ever read, but let’s be honest: not every book has to be a masterpiece. Sometimes, you just want a fun, engaging story—and this one delivers.
The plot is playful yet masterfully executed by James Patterson, bringing together detectives inspired by the styles of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, and Edgar Allan Poe. They’re struggling to open a detective agency in—you guessed it—New York City.
What I loved most were the short, cliffhanger-filled chapters. They made it impossible to put down, even when I was just planning to read a chapter or two before bed. It’s what I like to call an “airport book”—a fast, entertaining read that’s perfect for trips or weekends.
Fair warning: if you’re a die-hard fan of the original characters, you might feel a bit protective. Patterson’s versions are more homage than carbon copy. As someone who grew up loving Sherlock Holmes (and only later developed an appreciation for Poe), I felt the resemblance but appreciated the creative spin.
If you’re looking for something light and fun with a touch of nostalgia, this book is worth a try. Just don’t go in expecting deep literary analysis—it’s all about the entertainment.