1st Avenue in the East Village last night after our supper at Momofuku. We ate very well. Raw scallops with horseradish and radish sticks, smoked trout with watercress, trout roe and crispy trout skin, char-grilled octopus with raw summer squash, pork buns for him, oysters buns for me, tiny heirloom potatoes dressed with beurre blanc, and then fluffy, whipped tofu with dulce de leche and salty peauts. Nigori sake to drink.
Now off to Wave Hill, via rail. There is something very satisfying about saying to someone, Meet me at the clock in Grand Central.
As always, reading your blog has satisfied me. My need for the garden, fine food and the city. As per my gypsy soul, I have once again uprooted myself to Columbus, North Dakota - 12 miles from the Canadian border. In the middle of nowhere. A post office, a bar, and a cemetery. What I thought would once satisfy my need to be a hermit - I was wrong. There is little fresh produce, little selection of meat, very few spices...all 90 miles to the south nonetheless. And so I read your blog and await my next destination. Reading your blog keeps me sane and I thank you :)
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