I read this New York Times "City Room" post and the ensuing comments with much bemusement and a little bit of empathy. No, New York hasn't "broken my heart," but as an outsider like Mr. Solomon, albeit one with more lightbulbs and fewer carrot-topped vixen problems, I, too, have noticed favorite and unfavorite aspects of the city. Favorites include the chill in the air very early in the morning in autumn while you're walking to yoga and the only people around are either very creepy, very sweaty due to jogging at as breakneck a pace as they could jog and still be jogging, or very friendly in that blue-collar way in which one person greets another with an utter lack of pretension while holding a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee in his work gloves and warming one hand in the pocket of his cement-stained jeans, because when one of you is wearing work gloves and cement-stained jeans and the other is wearing a ratty bandanna barely containing her crepuscular frizz and exuding a sweetish odor of yoga sweat, pretension is pretty much impossible, and a peculiar sort of anonymous warmth takes its place.
In related news, they finally turned on the heat in our building today, so despite the fact that I like the ambiance of the new library study level, I am in my toasty room rather than the frosty library.
So today called for a warm meal, but I also wanted something light. I've written before about Andy's rosemary bread, specifically about how exceptional the texture is. I omitted the Italian spice and swapped out the rosemary for teaspoon and a half of cumin seeds, and I cannot adequately describe the goodness of the results. You know those old Yoplait commercials about how "it's so good" with the two oh-so-chill girlfriends? That good. A warm chickpea, edamame, cucumber, and feta salad dressed with lemon juice, pepper, and a touch of mint rounded out an early dinner.