I’m visiting New York—the Big Apple—after 10 years. Am pleased to report, it’s as juicy as ever.

My lovely, long-lost cousin Mihir Shedde and his wife Kanika warmly welcome me to their ultra tony apartment in Upper Manhattan. It is airy and Zen-like, overlooks a patch of green, and it has a large private terrace—uff! It turns out I’m his aunt—family trees were never a strong point—but I’m in no mood to be auntified just yet, so cousin it is for the moment. They are a cool, DINK couple—double income, no kids—and they treat me to jazz at an unexpected venue, the local Ethiopian restaurant, Massawa. A series of young musicians—they look like they were NYC students, playing the keyboard, trumpet, trombone, doing vocals—and they’re astonishingly good.
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