Darlings... I miss you so much. I feel awful that I simply don't have time to write here anymore because right now The Man is sticking it to me (but paying for it, so I'm not complaining). Alas, I feel like I abandoned my baby and haven't fed him in weeks. So without further ado, a digest of my cultural life this week:
Passover: Great dinner at my friend Cathy's, who is the queen of brisket and macaroons and everything in between. We acquitted ourselves nicely with some singing in Aramaic and much talking about the meaning of the seder and more talking about food. Cathy has adopted my grandmother's recipe for gefilte fish veracruzana style which is a feast for the gods (sorry, the God). And so her seders remind me of home. Yum.
Also, I happen to be invited to an Easter Sunday feast as well, so the stuffing isn't over yet.
I will post separately on my going out to the theater, but I have something to say about the Grand Central Station Oyster Bar Lunch Counter: God Bless it!
As I am working in midtown these days, I find the lunch counter an oasis of real food in a wasteland of delis. Also, the place is probably one of the few left that actually feels like New York. It feels like you are inside an Edward Hopper painting, which is a good thing.
One big bowl of clam chowder (I favor the Manhattan one) will set you back a little over 5 bucks and it comes with a little warm roll and butter and some crisps and it rocks. The waitress today actually offered to give me another roll, I must have looked ravenous.
The fried oyster po-boy is also quite good and humongous. The place is civilized, urbane and very old New York. I adore it. If it disappears, I will rend my garments.