one of my last days in New York was an epic fall day, brunch at the Breslin with Rachel, grapefruit with ginger sugar and tiny slivers of mint, poached eggs on a bed of spicy lentils and a hunk of grilled ciabatta. walked it off for 40 blocks on the gorgeous stretch of Riverside Park in Woody Allen’s New York, the Upper West Side.
trotted home to rest my weary legs, my weary everything; such sun and wind and long walks and late mornings can only call for a nap. or, as I was want to do, a cup of tea.
then it was all the way down to the East Village for samosas from a Pakistani deli, where my friend Devika ordered for me in fluid Hindi, and we went to a bench and ate out of plastic containers; melting fried dough with tamarind and mint chutney, a lovely spicy-sweet mash up nestled happily within a generous, restorative dollop of smashed black lentils and chickpeas. we drank sweet chai, and talked like we had known each other for a long, long while, when we really only just met. one of those instant-connection-they-just-get-it friendships, so easy and comfy. and it was the last and first time we will hang out in New York, and we were eating wonderful deli food in the crisp air, in the East Village, and it was utterly New York, and how sad and how wonderful, that such friends can be made so quickly and in such a transitory manner.
some other fall suppers, by my lonesome:
a plump roasted chicken breast with sweet, stewey tomatoes that were roasted alongside in the pan; the heat and the fat and the juice collapsed them, rendering the rough chop a wonderfully haphazard tomato sauce to bathe the chicken in.
an omelet that tasted rustic and humble, and made me think of damp ground and warm tea: three eggs filled just so with sauteed mushrooms, potatoes, onions, and tomatoes, and arugula, some grated parmesan.
tonight: a simple and deeply satisfying stew of corn, tomato, and rice with subtle heat and that magical base of bell peppers, onion, celery; a crisp green salad; pieces of crusty bread torn off a loaf of French bread almost as big as me (literally!) spread with cold butter. friends, I am in New Orleans, and it is beautiful. I will keep you posted.
