October 1, 2012
M.I.F.C.
If you were observing me surreptitiously last week, the week following our weekend trip to Stratford (for those that missed the update: alone. As in: childless), you'd see me periodically stopping and moving my mouth a little.
(Also: You'd be creepy.)
I was remembering the food. The glorious food.
The Spicy S.O.B. Burger at Boomers. The bread, the duck ceviche, the crispy duck leg, and the beet sorbet at Bijou. The steak tartare at Mercer Hall.
Oh. I just want to go back.
And don't think we just ate. We napped too. At three in the afternoon.
...
It was heaven. Worth saving up for. Worth waiting eleven years for.
But you can bet we're not waiting eleven more.