Aimee’s back in the city!

Last night, we saw Picasso at the Met; the exhibit was full of boldness and energy, and afterwards all we were compelled to do was wander —aimlessly and noncommittally— for a bit; we’d seen enough beauty to last the night. And then there were fresh, cool plates of sushi on Amsterdam: meaty & sweet rock shrimp with avocado, fatty tuna with scallion, a perfect vegetable tempura with some secret sauce or other, steaming salted edamame and ice cold beer.

The two of us walked through a green and purple dusk in Central Park to reach our perfect plates, and all I can say is last night was warm and quiet, lazy and slow, a textbook summer night.

Today was warm and perfect! Breakfast was followed by coffee at the Hungarian Pastry Shop, where we talked granola ideas for the Grainery and soaked up some sun and bought a baguette for with lunch.

Once home, there was a philosophical discussion on god & science, rational vs. religious thought, the meaning of the universe; we stood by the sun coming through the kitchen window and chewed on the topic, slowly and thoughtfully— as we had chewed on our lunch. That wheat berry and lentil salad came out pretty wicked, hearty and effortlessly satisfying; balanced: floral—not sharp— from the lemon, with an essential herbaceousness lent from the oregano, a subtle spice from the cumin and dried chile.

The table was cleared and I smiled because she brings meaning to my life.