Cold

I thought I'd post some snow for Johan, who says he is hot, in Koringberg. Johan, dit was minus vyf grade celsius terwyl ek hier gestap het. Ek hoop jy is beindruk! (Look for Johan and Peter's beautiful house in Visi's print version of Issue 75/November-December.)

I took a day off, yesterday, and rode to Brooklyn on the 2, and then crunched my way through the new snow and old, familiar streets to Cobble Hill. I was carrying  a pouch of freshly ground spices in my bag, and an order for a double batch of boerewors, from Los Paisanos. First I stopped at Stinky to buy malt vinegar for the recipe, and perhaps I also scored some saucisson, New York-made salami and a square of duck rillettes. At Union Market, I stocked up on garlic-stuffed olives for Vince. Back at Paisanos I placed the sausage order with Ivan and acquired two boxes of my favourite, Filotea egg pasta.  Over at Sahadi's I bought a dozen boxes of spices, several pounds of Danish Supreme coffee and a warm baguette, and gave the cashier a recipe for her family's dinner. She wanted something quick and easy. One pan: chicken pieces, can of tomatoes, handful of black olives, loads of lemon juice and garlic. 450'F. One hour and 15 minutes. Go.

And then I rode home, on the 2 that was empty till Wall Street where it suddenly turned into a holding pen for every New Yorker downtown. At 110th I gave my seat to an elderly lady.  At 116th her son thanked me. At 125th we three stepped off the train together and he kissed her goodbye at the frozen bus stop up top, and then went back down into the subway station.

I walked on home, and showed the Frenchman the things I had brought back from the other side of the world.