Knowing breeds of dogs seems a more satisfying pasttime than recognizing cars.
It’s being able to define and sort out the categories that gives me pleasure. Once upon a time, it came from identifying a Saab.
I spent the better part of an afternoon at a party talking to a man about his champion dog. From the photo I ventured. “He looks like an Airedale,” though my new friend had told me the breed. He is a patient man, so he told me “Airedales have that black saddle.”
Memory is an odd companion, and like a puzzle, the picture in my mind clicked.
We spoke of his champion’s character, and I said, “He’s a perfect dog.” He answered “No one is perfect. He’s a great dog.”
It is probably obvious to you and to my besties by now that, if we go out somewhere, I am likely to report on it.
Or find something interesting in the outing. At least interesting to me.
For instance, guys, last night we tried Tacombi, a place usually very accessible, and it was full. Packed. I know, maybe it’s Taco Tuesday, and that 6:30 is not an early bird hour. The happy diners here were young and loud.
M. and I moved on to the Beach Cafe, at her suggestion. This is more her nabe than mine, while I do live close by.
The happy diners at the Beach were older and settled in, but we got a booth made for a bigger party than we two. By 7:45, or so, the restaurant had pretty much emptied out.
What happened to the City That Never Sleeps?
The Beach has a neon ad over the bar that says Burgers til 1am.
We were pretty dubious and even snickered on our way out.
BTW, Tuesday is for tacos here as well although they are co-opting the cuisine.
The bag says The Container Store. The tagline says
WELCOME TO THE ORGANIZATION.
Bloomingdale’s country has several new interesting hi-rise neighbors to the flagship store
It was in one of the several dining rooms at Bloomingdale’s that I met D for lunch. My notation post our get-together was «lunch with D was heavenly.« Should I have journaled «divine?«
I had what I always described as a Bloomingdale’s habit as a teen. The store was midway between school and where my parents, who were my ride home, worked. That made it the perfect stopover.
For years, if you needed a break during your shopping trip, there were only 2 places to visit. 40 Carrots, a yogurt emporium was downstairs. [There were always lines for that treat.] The fancier restaurant, tablecloths and all, named Blue something, was on 7.
All the options upon our visit were more casual if upscale. We hit two on the same visit. The adorable Studio 59 has a limited menu, with the exception of a cocktails list. The breakfast was excellent. On to Flip, the burger joint (get it, flippin’ burgers) off the Men’s department. It checks off every box: Very friendly. Very tasty. Plenty of variety. Very cute.
Of course, my journal comment wasn’t about the (good) food. It was most definitely about the good company and sprawling conversation we, D and I, shared.
Let me expand on this particular Mexican restaurant.
They deconstruct a delicious street food and serve it in a paper coffee cup. This touch kind of preserves the feel of a «off a food truck« delicacy when you dig in on the mix of flavors. The corn has been de-cobbed, as it were, for ease of eating. Aka, it’s not as sloppy a dish at table as when you walk through a street-fair.
There’s an industrial feel to the location (ours is on the UES), and I see from their website that they favor this look. Other Tacombis have converted garages into dining rooms. It’s a style. I love it.
All The Best 