In Brooklyn

A squirrel thinking dark thoughts on Warren Street.

Hoo-wheeee.

I am Le Tired. Writing this Monday night, after a sleepless night on Sunday (the kind where your head refuses to switch off), fun helping Ellen Monday morning arrange greenery and boughs in flurries of snow on the 17th floor of a pink building. We were swaddled in many layers and walked like penguins; a quick burger at the Upper West Side Shake Shack outpost, back on Smith Street at Los Paisanos shopping for dinner Tuesday night when we will feed Ellen and Michael, as well as Sarah, then home, and then much writing - somewhere I roasted two Cornish hens for our supper and we drank some pink wine made in Red Hook.Then I wrote some more.

And here I am.

Meanwhile ponder this: Prunus subhirtella "Autumnalis", also on Warren Street, in temperatures below freezing. Very nice.

And this. People queuing to go down into a hole in the ground, in one of the busiest intersections in Brooklyn. It is a weekly guided tour of an abandoned subway tunnel.

Dinner menu:

Potted pig
Chicken liver pate
Cornichons
Nice bread
...

Roast carrot and orange soup
...

White winter salad - endive, fennel,  radishes, celeriac with hazelnut dressing
...

Slow-roasted shoulder of pig rubbed with summer savoury and fennel (both from the terrace), garlic and lime
Roast potatoes with sage (terrace)
...

Frozen Grand Marnier souffles a la Le Bec Fin
...

The End!

Hm. I wonder if I am crazy. We shall see.