During my walks, my zealous documentary nature (camera to face, staring at addresses, taking feverish notes) made many people think I was doing something much more suspicious than researching architectural walking itineraries. I think most people believed I was a private investigator or insurance adjuster as they watched me warily back through their windows. But other people, and rightly so, believed I was some kind of talent scout for America’s Next Model-Slash-Deliveryman. I made a promise to those people, and I’m delivering on it now.

First, this Fed Ex guy in Brooklyn. When I shot the brownstone next to him he made a face like he was hurt. “Why don’t you want to take a picture of me?” he asked. Before I could say of course I did, he had put together this pose of jovial hand gestures, while his friend, obviously more shy in front of the camera (or perhaps unable to make clear hand signs in gloves) just giggled and looked down. “So are you gonna make me famous or what?” he asked as I started to walk away. At the very least, I said, I could put him on my blog. “Make me famous,” he nodded, as if that was all it took.

Another row of brownstones, this time in Harlem. This guy from Oz Moving (that’s ozmoving.com should you ever need “the wizard of moving”) actually put down his boxes just so he could pretend he was just happening to strike this laid-back pose on the sidewalk by the time I walked by. “What’s that gonna be in?” he asked. “GQ?” I wish, I said, but it’s just for my blog. “Well, all right!” he said, and started humming as he hoisted his boxes back up into the air. The boy’s got talent.

More famous photos.

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.

A few days after I noticed an especially high proliferation of a certain frozen treat along Bleecker, New York Magazine ran a story taste-testing those very treats. (Besides the gelato locations they name, there’s also a “yogurt alley” further south on Bleecker, where Red Mango stares down Pinkberry. Always pick Red Mango.) Anyway, according to NY Mag, the hands-down winner was Grom, an Italian company that has two locations in New York, many more in Italy and absolutely zero in Los Angeles.

The gelato isn’t out in the open at Grom, rather it’s packed into these silver tubs they say make the temperature more accurate (as you know, the secret to great gelato is keeping it at that perfect barely-frozen consistency). So you can’t quite see what you’re getting into; you just have to trust that it’s great because it’s made in Italy, whipped and frozen on site and packed into these pretty silver cylinders. All of this they will tell you as you hem and haw over the Italian-named flavors. My friend Allan chose pistachio. I panicked. There were five different kinds of chocolate.

In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I paired apricot (a flavor I’ve never had before) with Crema di Grom, which has—take a deep breath and clear your palate before reading further—meliga di Battifollo biscuits and Ecuadorian chocolate. I’m a sucker when baked goods and frozen delights collide and with gelato you don’t always get options laid out before you like Cold Stone Creamery mix-ins. This was the right choice with the piquant apricot:  a fancy, transcendant Dreamsicle. And just look at that texture!

I’ve been championing il laboratorio del gelato as New York’s finest, with its simple, seasonal ingredients and the innate charm of being served out of a window on the Lower East Side. The ultraluxurious Grom experience is the opposite:  totally West Village glam. Illustrations around the room explain their dedication to only the most high-class, responsible ingredients from Amalfi Sfusato lemons to the purest Guatemalan Genuina Antigua coffee. Although I had to look at a big poster of a biological egg yolk while I was eating. The chicken-to-gelato connection should not be made.

I will say that Grom has certainly elevated the local gelato market. But is it the best? It’s difficult to say. 15 more visits and I’ll know for sure.

More gelato & everything else.

I think this building should be condemned. There’s serious metal fatigue in all the load-bearing members, the wiring is substandard, it’s completely inadequate for our power needs, and the neighborhood is like a demilitarized zone.

At 1:40 p.m., at the main branch of the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue, ten people witnessed a free-floating, full-torso, vaporous apparition! It blew books off shelves from twenty feet away and scared the socks off of some poor librarian!

Are you, Alice, menstruating right now?

Who’s the stiff?

No! Nobody ever built them like this! The architect was either an authentic wacko or a certified genius. The whole building is like a huge antenna for pulling in and concentrating psychokinetic energy.

Let me in, let me in, somebody let me in!

Wait for the sign, then all prisoners will be released! You will perish in flames!

Has it ever occurred to you that maybe the reason we’ve been so busy lately is because the dead have been rising from the grave?

If I’m wrong, nothing happens! We go to jail! Peacefully, quietly. We’ll enjoy it! But if I’m right, and we can stop this thing…Lenny, you will have saved the lives of millions of registered voters.