Upper West Side Story

Pollack's shop is one of several vintage and couture fashion boutiques that draw hipsters to his neck of the urban woods. A closet of clutter, Allan & Suzi brims with feather boas, go-go boots, "space-age" mini-dresses and vintage Emilio Pucci -- bold fashion that has attracted the boldest stars, including Madonna and Robin Williams.

It's 11 p.m. and Goldsmith comes through Homer's screen door with a clap. He tosses a bag of candy corn to one of the girls behind the counter and her eyes light up. For many of Goldsmith's teenage employees, pouring milkshakes at Homer's is their first job, and he takes care of them.

Homer's and many of the late-night spots along Amsterdam Avenue are extensions of people's living rooms. One evening during the 2004 presidential campaign, Goldsmith received several calls from people wanting to know if he'd be showing the presidential debate on his plasma screen. He did -- whatever his customers wanted.

A good televised political fight is an event to drink to in this neighborhood. Charged and jittery, like Super Bowl fans, the feisty literati who reside here pack into the no-frills Raccoon Lodge at 83rd and Amsterdam to experience the highs and lows together, elbow to elbow. They live in the dark corners of the Upper West Side's watering holes, usually swaying to the sounds of live jazz. Politically and socially aware students move in the shadows of Columbia University's neoclassic halls, perched on the hilltop of Morningside Heights. They flash their plumes in casual debates over coffee and linzer tortes at the Hungarian Pastry Shop at 1030 Amsterdam, across from the steps of St. John the Divine, the largest cathedral in the world.

Inside St. John's endless nave, there are more tokens to humanism than to Episcopal theology. Its 14 bays are not dedicated to saints but to worldly things including sports, art, law and education. The altar is decorated with painted enamel vases from Japanese Emperor Hirohito, gilded chests from the King of Siam and two 12-foot menorahs.

While St. John's is impressive in its enormity and interesting with its artifacts, the interdenominational Protestant cathedral, Riverside Church, is arguably more elegant. The Gothic church was built by John D. Rockefeller in the 1930s when he was denied a seat on St. John's board because he was not an Episcopalian. Situated at 122nd Street on Riverside Drive, it borders Harlem to the north and east and, to the west, Riverside Park -- a four-mile ribbon of green, running the entire length of the Upper West Side shore.

But even in the winter months, you can find enticing food outdoors year-round. On Thursdays and Fridays, farmers throughout the state sell their produce in an open-air market in Tucker Square, a cobblestone wedge near Lincoln Center at 66th Street and Columbus, as part of the city's Greenmarket program to promote regional agriculture. These organic foods make for the perfect hotel-room picnic: "drippy sweet nectarines" and "super-duper crunchy empire" apples -- as their cardboard signs advertise; buckets of fragrant basil; and "anything you can think of turkey" from Ben Thompson of DiPaola Turkey Farm in New Jersey.

"At Thanksgiving there's a line around the corner," he says, opening a cooler to show a customer what's left. Only a few links of turkey sausage sit at the bottom.

Meanwhile there's a feeding frenzy at the Bobolink Dairy and Bakeyard tent, because cheesemaker Nina White is giving free samples of a pungent baudolino made from milk produced by cows that feed only on grass and hay. "We do something revolutionary," White says. "We let our cows out."

She is the picture of a country woman in her forties -- little white apron over a floral skirt with delicate pink rosebuds, brown ankle boots and strawberry curls pulled into a bun -- but she used to be a dancer. When an elegant, elderly woman steps up to the table, they converse in French.

"She had a sample on her way to the movies," White explains, as she slices a sticky wedge off the hunk of cheese. "Now she's buying some on her way home." Perhaps the French woman hasn't heard about the Whole Foods Market a few blocks south at Columbus Circle. Or maybe she just prefers to do her shopping in the sunlight.

For Details on New York's Upper West Side, see Page P11.