This is Highly Recommend, a column dedicated to our very opinionated editors’ favorite things to eat, drink, and buy.
On the days I can’t physically remove myself from the sticky, sweaty, totally unbearable reality of a New York City summer, the best I can do is remove myself mentally. On those days, you’ll find me hiding away in the closest oasis: The backyard at Saturdays NYC, an iced Americano in hand, pretending I’m somewhere else.
It goes like this: Mugginess reaches its peak. I wake up in a sweat, leave my apartment, and head straight for Crosby street. I swing open the door of cool-kid SoHo surf shop, walk straight to the barista, get my drink, and then b-line it to the back door, past all the racks of breezy tie-dyed camp collar shirts and tailored linen pants. Waiting on the other side is paradise—by New York standards, at least. A walled-in patio lined with comfortable wooden benches and an army of plants. The lushness of the ferns, trees, bushes, and flowers intensifies as the summer drones on, crescendoing into a jungle of vegetation by August, just when the heat is at its most oppressive. These green things provide some shade from the sun, but just as important are the tall brick walls block out nearly everything else—sounds of rowdy Soho tourists included.
It’s enough to make me feel as though I’m anywhere but a block away from the crowds stampeding down the sizzling asphalt of Broadway. And in the heat of the summer, that’s really all I need.