I'm in New York City and true as the myth, there are as many stories in NYC as there are people -- more, in fact (although Newton and Watertown do alright for themselves given their comparative size). Just off the bus, we were hungry and much to our delight there on the corner stood the Stage Door Deli (its name a play on the famous Stage Deli that I remembered from the early 1960's). Bustling in from the wind and the cold, we were pleased to find a corner seat near the window. It was still early and folks were hovering over their steaming hot cups of coffee, lingering after breakfast in an effort to avoid going into the cold wind and swirling snow flurries. (It was a Saturday, yesterday, and no one had to rush off to work.) The waiters here were not Jewish men with numbers tatooed on their arms from the Holocaust, but rather pretty blonde women with slight Russian accents . . . And the food was almost as good. For old times sake, I couldn't resist ordering a Reuben -- and I wasn't disappointed. . . my husband and I ending up packing up half of our platter of food (except for the dill pickles and fresh, not over-mayonaised coleslaw which we scarfed down with the first half of our platter of corned beef and cheese and rye), stuffing into our suitcase for future sustenance the wrapped half-sandwiches which had survived our hunger.
I have been enjoying your posts, but alas not daily because of a hectic schedule. Today, home again from a business trip, I caught up with your Egyptian diaries, recipes and other accounts, and also the comments you have posted on my blog. The Egyptian diaries have been a real view of the country as seen by you then - wow! I was scared at your donkey fall, and then read your comment about falling with a bicycle on Cape Cod - a real warning to stick with your own two feet!
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