The highest rapid transit station in the world.

This micro-industry of Latino cuisine along Red Hook's Ball Fields represents a victory in a food fight with the city.

While it now takes more than a dime to open an account this historic Brooklyn bank still displays the opulence of the gilded age in which it was built.

Michael Jackson got Bad and Crocodile Dundee walked on heads in this iconic Brooklyn subway station.

This beautiful Brooklyn monument over a crypt memorializes a grim and largely unknown story from the American Revolution.

A popular European tradition makes its way to the states on one of America's most famous bridges.

A decommissioned military complex that's now a modern industrial park.

How a century-old glass factory in Queens became a concert venue and arts center.

The crown jewel of the Queens Museum is a nearly 10,000-square-foot architectural model of the city originally built for the 1964 World's Fair.

The remnants of two World's Fairs are here, complete with a 12-story globe, a mini-Manhattan, and a UFO-shaped pavilion.

The mosaic Star of David at the front of this store hints that it's no ordinary Italian grocer.

Protecting the future of some of the rarest and most misunderstood mammals of North America.

100 massive sculptures in the Hudson River Valley.

This stone gatehouse was once the entrance to a historic mountain resort, and it had a cameo in a cheesy cult horror movie.

One man's swirling six-acre monument of stone.

A gigantic 10-foot tall stone man.

An interesting look into 18th-century American history.

Golden plates containing what would become the Book of Mormon were believed to be buried on this New York hillside.

The largest guitar store in the world has been visited by some of music's all-time greats passing through upstate New York.

Rochester's signature culinary delicacy.

One of the largest festivals of flowers in North America takes place, appropriately, in the Flower City.

The home, museum, and death site of Kodak's influential founder.

Where the Millerites gathered to watch the end of the world in 1844—and left disappointed.

Called the “General Motors of the piano industry,” these buildings once produced as many as 700 pianos a week.