I didn’t see you or you or you on my walk from Canal to the Met although maybe I did and just didn’t notice what with the bustling crowds who seemed to possess pre-Thanksgiving jitters and was that really early Christmas blues?
After the three Vermeer’s in a blissfully empty room and a few rooms of Buddhist sculpture from Southeast Asia, it was lunch at Rotisserie Georgette with many people I rather care about. We feasted on duck cracklings, a couple of creamy pates, rilletttes, consommé with foie gras dumplings, roasted guinea hen and a roasted duck a la orange, chocolate madeleines, and a tart tartin.
We walked back to Canal, sensibly.
A drink at the terrific bar at The Lafayette.
Dinner, what again, at il Buco Alimentari. The place was utterly slammed, it being Saturday night, and we found ourselves upstairs, a first, in an enjoyable environment where simple pastas deeply delicious satisfied the group utterly.