It is a clear 51 degrees, dropping to 43 overnight. On the stove is a slowly reducing ragu of veal from the osso buco, its sauce and vegetables, added to the quick pseudo Sauce Espagnole of fine onion, bacon, a little flour, red wine, and veal stock, that I began around 6pm.
A basket of tangerines is on the table, apple pie is in the oven, and tomorrow we will tramp through the woods of Prospect Park, searching for things to eat. We were told to bring lunch which means...picnic! Yes! I have rolled white asparagus in soft white wonderbread with a slick of mayonnaise (Hellman's), and tomorrow will fry bacon for the wholewheat focaccia we found, warm, at Sahadi's. With thin slices of onion and arugula, a cube or two of feta, and some Kir secreted in our backpack, we will have a fine lunch.
The haul from Sahadi's this afternoon: wild boar saucisson, Greek (hi Ellen) and French feta; Labneh, which is incredibly delicious; powdered almonds for Ajo blanco; oats and dried cranberries for granola; cornichons for the saucisson; and loquats for old times' sake. They are fine, but not nearly as sweet as the ones I stole from Mrs du Toit's tree in Paul Roux Street when I was little.