Weekends

The first workday that follows the end of DST is always pretty grim. Sunset tonight is only moments away.
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Ten courses at a wedding reception Saturday night at the Golden Unicorn on East Broadway in the Inner Borough. One of the people at our table didn’t eat seafood, so the poor guy had to sit through five (or was it six?) courses munching on the candied almonds. That was well over an hour of watching other people eat. Weirdly, two large flatscreen televisions were on the whole time, showing football, other sports, and once, when I glanced up, the hideous visage of Donald Trump (take about urban blight!).

I made vanilla syrup, red wine mustard, and apple sauce as my gift for the wedded couple (as if they wanted more food after ten courses!), in reusable glass containers, in a recycled paper basket. Yes, my own little protest against the orgy of gifts that weddings have become.
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If I’d been on-line this weekend and read my own comments, I would have known that two fellow Brooklyn bloggers were planning to come to the Audubon bird walk Sunday morning. So I got to meet Amy Amarilla and Leah Bluebird of Happiness in real life. As you might guess from their websites, they are good people, and I hope to run into them again.
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After a look at all those Marathon maniacs running down 4th Avenue, OHS and I brunched at Stone Park Café in Park Slope; fancy ($$) but awfully good. One black mark: no hot chocolate. It was also well before noon, so they had to remind me that we still have blue laws in NYC (no mimosas before noon on Sunday, even for heathens).
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On Saturday, at Union Square, I found some Grade B maple syrup. Elusive stuff, darker, smokier, and worth hunting out. I think I’ll be drinking it straight out of the mason jar as tomorrow's nail-biter approaches.