You were loud, crowded, dirty, cranky, moist, and sometimes you smelled worse than the insides of the shoes I wore every day for two months (without socks). But I shall never forget the kindness (and gelato) I found in your shadowed streets.

Forgive me, those of you who thought I fell victim to the notorious man-eating parakeets of Staten Island. But as hard as I tried to farm it out to a group of guys selling Circle Line tickets outside the Empire State Building, the truth is, this book can’t write itself. As I head into the final stretch I wanted to leave you with something to debate in my extended absence. One of the first things people would ask me when I told them I was doing this project was, “Well, Miss Hammer Toe, what’s the best building in New York, then?” It’s a question that’s impossible to answer because as everyone knows, there are ten. And here they are.

The Maritime Hotel: Maybe I’m a sucker for porthole windows. But when I saw this baby looming on the Chelsea horizon, I felt like my ship had come in.

Navy Yard housing: This is one of a long row of abandoned houses in the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Every time I happened to ride my bike past it, it was cloudy, raining or getting eerily dark. Coincidence? You tell me.

Palazzo Chupi: It’s impossible to capture the glory of this Julian Schnabel-designed building in the West Village because it’s like the architectural equivalent of a mullet: business on the bottom, wild pink orgy on the top. I came back here several times, just to make sure I wasn’t being too hasty when I decided that this was probably one of the most exciting things to happen in New York, like, ever. It is. As a woman walking her dog by me when I took this picture said: “Holy crappers.”

Bayard-Condict Building: Grab yourself a slice of Two Boots pizza (right across the street), position yourself on a bench, and pay this foamy, frilly lady some serious attention. At first I was sad that such a gem was stashed away on this tiny strip of Bleecker. But then I realized it was better this way because it was our little secret.

124 E. 19th Street: Tucked into the “Block Beautiful” near Gramercy Park is this single family home. You can go right up and look in their windows to see the entire inside, too. It’s topped with one of the precious little stepped-gable roofs I got excited about every time I saw in New York, because I thought to myself, wow, this really is New Amsterdam.

What My Father Gave Me: Yes, I’m counting Chris Burden’s Erector-set skyscraper as a building! It’s as big as other structures on this list. But I’ll also count the elegant slab of the GE Building behind it, with the best observation deck in town. Spend your afternoon in the open-air Top of the Rock. You’ll get a great view of the tourists wedged into the tiny cages atop the Empire State.

Secretariat: The Lever House is pretty but UN’s site on the East River makes for one of those stop-and-gawk moments as you’re walking around New York. I came up the stairs onto Tudor City, stopped in the middle of the street, and almost got hit by a car. That’s how good it is.

Barclay-Vesey Building: Please allow me this one semi-sentimental entry. I remember during the 9/11 coverage, as steel and glass buildings splintered like toothpicks, one building that seemed to be holding steady in the midst of it all. Its slanted profile and series of setbacks gave it some kind of weird Babylonian temple vibe, which was even creepier with smoke and flames swirling around it. Of course we know now that this building, widely considered the first Art Deco skyscraper, was heavily damaged. But it has been restored, right down to its delicate hibiscus carvings, which sure do look awesome next to the new WTC7. A true survivor.

Westin Times Square: Someone is going to revoke my design writing license for claiming this as one of the best buildings in New York, but I don’t care. No architectural statement is so perfectly suited to its surroundings. I want to have a dress made out of this.

Dennett Place: I think I’ve said everything that can be said about these amazing little apartments in Carroll Gardens. And that’s not even the half of it.

See you back here in a few days.

Visiting Staten Island is a secret NY journey you must experience to appreciate the city. For one, it starts with a free cruise through the sparkling blue waters of New York Bay, a body of water rivaled only by the Caribbean in beauty.

Once on Staten Island, however, it’s best to keep your wits about you. For example, beware the vicious man-eating parakeets.

But if you look hard enough, you’ll find houses you’d never see on Manhattan.

Or magical cottages seen only in fairy tales.

I think I wandered back a hundred years but eventually I found my way back to the ferry.

And on the way home, I got the world’s best view of New York. Smiling tourists included.

More Staten Island and other islands.

I was feeling a little down the other day and I knew there was only one thing that could cheer me up: Going to Little Italy.

But not the Little Italy you’re probably thinking of; I’m talking about the one in the Bronx.

Arthur Avenue has more than a dozen Italian food shops and restaurants that have been passed down from family members for over 100 years.

Plus there is an incredible indoor market where you can stock up on everything from cappicola to cannoli to these beautiful green Cerignola olives.

Everything is fresh, legit and delicious.

There are tons of restaurants but this was my favorite concept. You walk up to the counter, tell them what kind of fish you want, and they pile it on a plate with lemons. Top it with one of a dozen condiments they have out and eat it right there.

Of course I had to stop for gelato. This was pistachio, but please note that it’s not fluorescent green. It actually tasted like nuts.

More international flavor.

When I lived in Hollywood my address was followed by 1/2. Everyone always asked, what does that mean, you got half of an apartment? You know, like a John Malkovich kind of thing.

The houses located on Dennett Place in Carroll Gardens get full integer addresses, but half doors.

Are you just supposed to duck when you go through them?

Or are they secret portals that lead into another person’s subconscious? Thanks to Sarah for pointing out this small wonder.

More one-size-fits-all Brooklyn.