It's the end of a long week, my last week as a full-time New Yorker.
And though I'll be back often, I know there are things I will miss.
Like this -
Carrie had been packing stuff all day, and I'd been on the job since 7 AM and had just capped off a twelve-hour day.
We didn't feel like cooking.
In about twenty minutes, a deliveryman from the neighborhood diner is going to show up with french onion soup, a pastrami Reuben sporting extra kraut, a tuna melt and an order of well-done fries with ketchup on the side, from which Carrie and I will assemble a tasting menu.
It's all going to be really good, and it's no more expensive (delivered, tip included) than two people eating comparable fare at Applebee's in suburbia.
I have had epic meals at fine restaurants in New York City. I will remember the 2004 summer tasting menu at Babbo when I am sucking my gums in front of the fireplace (I hope!)...
...but what I'll really miss are the neighborhood places.
When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. - Hunter S. Thompson
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