A couple of times each year, I am lucky enough to visit Albany. The fervor and simplicity of the city, its neighborhoods of crushing poverty, the exquisite late nineteenth century architecture, the Hudson, which is one of the world’s greatest rivers, combine to enervate the spirit. It’s a stimulating place, what with being the capital of the Empire State, too, and it’s no wonder that people here carry on with dramatic appeal.
No trip is complete without a visit to Dinosaur BBQ, in nearby Troy. Troy was once home to numerous factories which produced shirt collars. This was in the nineteenth century, and having become the world’s leader in shirt collars, subsequent wealth led to the creation of magnificent homes, businesses, and public buildings. Wait and see if Troy doesn’t soon become a place like Portland, Maine.
Riddled with terrific cafes, people who stop and talk to strangers on the street, and more crushing poverty, the city is host the Dinosaur BBQ.
The original is in Syracuse, there are also outposts in Chicago, Buffalo, Baltimore, Stamford, Rochester, Brooklyn, and Harlem.
I’ve been numerous times, it never disappoints. A lively room, great prices, servers who are chipper, and delicious food. Racks of pork ribs, pulled pork, slow cooked chickens, mac ‘n’ cheese, baked beans, collards, and ice box pie. Sazarac rye, about 25 draft beers. And dinner is about $35 per person, including tax and tip.
Last night the room was filled with bikers; Indian families; an older couple, of which the man had on an elegant white shirt with cufflinks and the woman, in heels, sipped white wine; and, a mysterious couple of which the man was covered in tats and had a thick bull ring in his nose and the woman was slim and as beautiful as a model. He got up to use the rest room, and she immediately got the check and paid. What was the attraction? Were they in love?