Even on a rainy Sunday morning, Brooklyn Label is open at 9am. (One of the few in the neighborhood)
I saw a Pork Confit. And other omelettes, but DUCK always catches my attention.
Although I was happy to be eating and reading and taking notes in my favorite setting, all at the same time. And plenty of coffee.
And I was so distracted by my current thoughts, about how I cannot bear to TALK in the morning. Especially not to my Mom, who is so eager to talk to someone kind. She agreed to be married to my father, and he died. And I am left to take his place. And for that very reason, I cannot bear to be civil, to be in a relationship that I find to be a compromise. Not until I've had my coffee and eggs, anyways.
Also, that Greenpoint has tangible delicious ideas everywhere. The books bloom like flowers (except on these rainy days, when they hibernate at other homes, and where maybe they get read today). Books lay about everywhere, brilliant people, too clever for their own good. Clever and beautiful book covers. More beautiful for the serendipity.
Yesterday, between the bagel place and the Korean grocery, I found the history of Western Music, a (waterlogged from the bath )Jhumpa Lahiri on the doorway of that ever evolving storefront. And a book that was heartily recommended to me by my former boss. The last time I had seen this book (Hooked), I was still interested in letting my boss impress me.
Today, to my delight, I would discover a Tiny Library in the spot in the yard of the Reformed Church, where we used to serve coffee. Laurel and Hardy and Possessed, with Roz Chast cartoons reflecting people who loved Russian literature. (Which maybe will impress my current coworker?)
I was so distracted by these thoughts, and by the idea that the Bookstore is perfectly located for a visit. (Harry potter and the Evil Child-I thought that title was a joke). There was a line and I didn't buy the beautiful version of Hamilton for $45.
The pork was more delicate than I had ever remembered, delicious. And then I remembered that I had ordered the Duck. And as for Duck, it was delicious.
I saw a Pork Confit. And other omelettes, but DUCK always catches my attention.
Although I was happy to be eating and reading and taking notes in my favorite setting, all at the same time. And plenty of coffee.
And I was so distracted by my current thoughts, about how I cannot bear to TALK in the morning. Especially not to my Mom, who is so eager to talk to someone kind. She agreed to be married to my father, and he died. And I am left to take his place. And for that very reason, I cannot bear to be civil, to be in a relationship that I find to be a compromise. Not until I've had my coffee and eggs, anyways.
Also, that Greenpoint has tangible delicious ideas everywhere. The books bloom like flowers (except on these rainy days, when they hibernate at other homes, and where maybe they get read today). Books lay about everywhere, brilliant people, too clever for their own good. Clever and beautiful book covers. More beautiful for the serendipity.
Yesterday, between the bagel place and the Korean grocery, I found the history of Western Music, a (waterlogged from the bath )Jhumpa Lahiri on the doorway of that ever evolving storefront. And a book that was heartily recommended to me by my former boss. The last time I had seen this book (Hooked), I was still interested in letting my boss impress me.
Today, to my delight, I would discover a Tiny Library in the spot in the yard of the Reformed Church, where we used to serve coffee. Laurel and Hardy and Possessed, with Roz Chast cartoons reflecting people who loved Russian literature. (Which maybe will impress my current coworker?)
I was so distracted by these thoughts, and by the idea that the Bookstore is perfectly located for a visit. (Harry potter and the Evil Child-I thought that title was a joke). There was a line and I didn't buy the beautiful version of Hamilton for $45.
The pork was more delicate than I had ever remembered, delicious. And then I remembered that I had ordered the Duck. And as for Duck, it was delicious.
