Following the Footsteps on the Path Less Traveled
This weekend, I did something that I rarely do - I didn’t plan a thing. I let those around me dictate my happenings.
On Saturday morning, my boyfriend brought me to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Born in the tree-heavy city of Atlanta, I am always looking for an excuse to escape into nature, so he hit the nail on the head with this one. I wheeled around the various outdoor spaces, each a world of its own - the Japanese garden with a solid red gate reflecting off of the pond it stood in, the Shakespeare garden with flowers named after the playwright’s famed characters, the fragrance garden where visitors are invited to touch the plants and the name plates have titles written in braille. We made our way around the map, quite literally stopping to smell the roses every step of the way. It truly felt like I had left the busy city for a peaceful safe haven. The accommodations throughout the gardens made the visit even more enjoyable.
Watch my video review of the garden here.
After working our way back to the information center and through the gift shop (with a $40 candle in hand - it’s a really delightful smelling candle), we went to Cafe Mado up the street for their famous brunch. Upon entering the restaurant, we were greeted by a variety of smells, sights and shouts from the open-concept kitchen to the left. The cooks smiled at us before quickly returning to their seemingly complex projects. Towards the customers, the staff showed a welcoming yet professional presence. Towards each other, I observed a sort of high-anxiety competition, where they all must prove their place over one another. Similar to how I imagine the staff feel in The Bear… which I have not yet watched (I know, I need to get on it). That being said, it felt very New York. The dishes, however, were very French-inspired.
We ordered the butter bean dip to start. A little more fluid than a hummus, it was lick-the-plate delicious. We had to ask for another order of the bread to accommodate the amount of dip.
Next out came the pork belly with yellow peaches. This dish was surprisingly fantastic to me. I love an unexpected punch of flavor, and the peaches held a spice that paired perfectly with the thick cut of pork. Placed on a bed of cooked green beans, the plate had me feeling how I imagine Remy from Ratatouille felt when he tried the strawberry and cheese combo.
Then came the star of the show. The Tony. Named for Anthony Bourdain, who wrote in his 2016 cookbook Appetites that his favorite sandwich consisted of fried mortadella and provolone, inspired by a meal he had in Brazil. If you know me, you know I am a mega-fan of Bourdain. It is not just that I look to him as an idol, I feel a soul connection to the late adventurer. I would do almost anything to have a meal with him, but for now, this take on his favorite sandwich at a Prospect Park cafe will have to do.
Imagine you’re slightly hungover and craving greasy, filling food from the bodega. With a Coke. Diet Coke if that’s your thing. One bite into the breakfast sandwich, and all your pain is gone. It’s just you and the sandwich. Now imagine a gourmet take on that experience. That was the Tony. Thankfully I was not hungover, and sadly I did not have a Coke to sip on, but I was transported to another place and time, a gift Bourdain gave us over and over in his many works. Of course his favorite sandwich would have that power as well.
Quick moment for the masa pancakes. I didn’t like them as much as the rest of the spread, but they sure were pretty. I was expecting more of a sweet taste than the tortilla chip flavor I got.
On Sunday morning, I was refueling at my favorite local diner when my phone pinged. I received a reminder from one of the guests at my blog launch event for a Disabled In Action meeting happening later that day. I originally found out about Disabled In Action through my research on the Mother of Disability Rights, Judy Huemann. After being denied a teaching role because of her wheelchair user status, Judy sued and what-do-you-know, ended up a teacher. She also became a star in the disability rights space - helping to organize campaigns that eventually led to the creation of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). In 1972, with the help of some other disabled activists, she started Disabled In Action, a civil rights organization focused on breaking down barriers across the board - whether it be transportation, housing, education, etc. - for the disability community. I had been interested in joining DIA since I first learned about it, and after meeting several board members at the Disability Unite Festival in Central Park as well as my own event, I finally had the opportunity.
The meeting was a wonderful introduction to the disability rights space of NYC. I saw some familiar faces, and made some meaningful connections. We discussed the latest news affecting the community, then had two of Mamdani’s staff members visit to gain feedback on the fast and free buses initiative. I listened much more than I spoke - I wanted to gain a sense for those around me, learn from their experiences and understand where the greatest problems lie. I watched a healthy, but powerful, discussion unfold on who deals with what - every single person facing a different mountain. Yet a commonality amongst us all - to make each climb easier. To make the playing field of New York City a little more even.
Some of the members who spoke with me after the meeting expressed concerns over my coming back and staying involved. They mentioned needing some younger energy in the room. I might not have shown it so outwardly, but a fire was ignited in me to take up a much louder presence. In this way, I felt connected with Judy, and I understood what it means to stand for a mission much greater than oneself.
Same as Bourdain, I’ll never have the opportunity to meet with Judy Huemann. But I’ll be damned if I don’t play my part in continuing their legacies. Because of Bourdain, I know there is a world out there waiting to be experienced. There are foods to eat and people to meet. Because of Huemann, I am able to show up in my wheelchair and be accommodated by every restaurant, business, and venue with legal protection.
But I am neither Anthony Bourdain or Judy Huemann. I’m Grace, and I’m disabled and hungry. These legends might’ve paved the way for me to be here today, but there’s much more road to be traveled.