A few days after our return from Mexico this past April, my sister Janet and I took part in a small family reunion. There were nine of us ranging in age from seven to mid-80s, three generations in all. 

We grew up often visiting our dad’s oldest brother and his wife and kids in the D.C. area, and remained close to our cousins John and Naomi as we grew older and the age gap eventually lost meaning. We’re crazy about John’s son Leo and looked forward to getting to know his two young sons. We hadn’t seen them since the younger of the two was an infant. 

Our cousin Naomi suggested a mini-vacation of five days. We met up in… New York City! Leo had done a stint in the city while in grad school and his boys had never been there. John and Naomi and their spouses hadn’t been to New York in many years and were eager to explore it again. 

I took on the task of researching both kid-friendly restaurants and places to visit that would also be comfortable for the elders (some of whom have hearing issues). Not so easy.

I knew to skip attractions such as the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty, where people line up for hours and hours, and the enjoyment of each can depend heavily on weather conditions. I wanted to steer clear of inherently touristy places and have the gang get to know various areas of the city instead. And at $28 a pop, I was astounded at the price of admission to museums and ruled them out.

I knew the Lego store would be perfect for the young boys and thought the hour-and-a-half Circle Line Boat tour around all of the boroughs—which includes getting close views of the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island and various bridges—would suit everyone, and it did. I suggested to Naomi that she find a hotel in the pleasant and convenient neighborhood of Chelsea rather than Times Square, which is chaotic and full of tourists. 

While finding activities in which we could all participate was a bit of a challenge, meals were not. We all love food and New York City is known for its restaurants. I put together a list for us to choose from, including two places for which Leo was nostalgic: The Second Avenue Deli (opened in 1954) and Ess A Bagel (known for its incredible bagels and many varieties of flavored cream cheese). 

Our first dinner together was at a lovely Italian restaurant called Le Zie on West 20th Street, not far from our hotel. We all liked what we chose from the menu and gave each other tastes of what we had ordered. The prices of food (and drink) in the city have skyrocketed, but at least the food was delicious.

For breakfast the next morning we took everyone to Coppelia, a favorite old-timey Latin American and Cuban luncheonette on 14th Street. The menu is eclectic and vast. Two people had Cuban sandwiches, which consist of pressed toasted bread with roasted pork, ham, Swiss cheese, and pickles. I had waffles with three pieces of fried chicken and maple syrup, liking the juxtaposition of sweet and savory. Leo had huevos rancheros and one boy had an enormous stack of wondrously light pancakes with fruit, and the other had buttermilk waffles with berries and whipped cream. 

At the end of the meal, the older boy excitedly asked the table to vote on whether or not we wanted to return for breakfast at Coppelia the following day. Though it didn’t come to be, every hand was raised that morning.

The days were exhausting and jam-packed with activities, though not everyone stayed together all the time. We broke off when it suited us and regrouped later in the day. The Lego store was heaven for the two boys and they could’ve spent days there, but Janet and I had had enough after about eight minutes. We left and ran some errands and rejoined the others for lunch. 

The Second Avenue Deli was disappointingly not the same one I remembered from my youth. We were still given two types of pickles and a big bowl of cabbage slaw, minus mayo and quite good, but the pickles were soft and lacked the familiar taste and crunch. Those who ordered pastrami sandwiches on rye or matzo ball chicken soup (known as Jewish penicillin for its restorative qualities) made out well, but Janet ordered a mediocre mushroom barley soup for the ridiculous amount of $12.50 and a tasteless potato pancake with applesauce ($9) that was devoid of any of the usual caramelized onion bits that make it flavorful. I made the mistake of ordering a round, baked potato knish (also $9), which was even more tasteless than Janet’s pancake. 

One boy’s goal, it was discovered, was to eat as many types of pasta as he possibly could on this trip, and he insisted on ordering the deli’s overcooked, bland macaroni salad swimming in mayonnaise—and relished it, to my horror. 

At the end of the meal, a waiter brought over a large plate of New York’s ubiquitous black-and-white frosted cookies, though the deli’s version was white and, oddly, turquoise frosted. The boys’ hands flew up to the plate and into their mouths before we knew what was happening and the sugar rush that soon took hold of them was truly scary. Leo had to walk them around the block repeatedly while the rest of us walked slowly back to our hotel. 

We always disbanded in the evenings, as everyone was bushed and the boys were barely able to stand up after so much walking and visual stimulation. Once or twice folks went out for a slice of pizza, but Janet and I skipped dinner in favor of reading, writing in our journals, or watching television and sipping cocktails. 

On our last morning altogether, we went to Friedman’s, a restaurant I had placed on my list because the menu was broad and it was a short walk away from the hotel. I saw mac and cheese on the menu and suggested it to the pasta lover who could not have been more pleased. I opted for Asian pan-fried vegetable potstickers (dumplings) with two sauces and a cup of creamy tomato soup, while the others ordered more typical breakfast fare. 

The day before the rest of us were due to depart, we split up. Leo wanted to show the boys his old haunts, including the apartment building he had lived in when in college, Grand Central Station (with its stunning ceiling), and lunch at Ess A Bagel. Chuck, Naomi’s husband, urged her to spend the day with Janet and me. We took the subway down to Little Italy and then Chinatown, where we walked around until we were famished and went to a dim sum restaurant where dishes of various Chinese delights, such as all kinds of dumplings, braised vegetables and noodles are served on little plates for sharing.

It was special for the three of us to be together, and Janet and I came to the realization that even though a handful of days in the city cost us a tidy sum, we really love these cousins. All are warm, funny, caring and affectionate. And they sure like to eat.