Anne, Leigh, Candy and I had dinner at a sushi place in Prospect Heights last night. In fact it was the second night in a row we had dinner at a sushi place. I ordered the Mega Godzilla – a roll with soft shell crab, eel and avocado. A regular Godzilla roll leaves out the soft-shell crab. But news of the pension deal back home caused me to go Mega.
The night before it was with my brother-in-law, sister-in-law and nephew at another sushi place on 7th Avenue in Park Slope.
A very sushi Thanksgiving.
Having our kids and their families living in Brooklyn gives us much to be thankful for.
Yes. It is true that we would be happier if they lived in the same city as us. But having them in Brooklyn has its benefits. They have Bill De Blasio as Mayor and not Rahm.
And they have access to mighty good eating. Not that I have complaints about food in Chicago. A new French bakery is scheduled to open on Milwaukee Avenue a few blocks from our house in Logan Square with an unlimited supply of eclairs.
But here in New York we were faced with the wonderful win-win choice of where to get Thanksgiving dinner appetizers. Russ and Daughters for chopped liver and pickled herring? Or Di Palo’s for burrata, smoked mozzarella and olives?
I decided on Italian. The wait at Di Palo’s was over 45 minutes. Down the street was Alleva, which calls itself the oldest Italian cheese shop in America. No waiting. I stocked up there.
We stopped for lunch at a hipster cafe in Williamsburg – as if there are any other kind. When I got up to go to the bathroom one door had a picture of a horse. The other had a picture of a male and a female.
Since I wasn’t a horse, I chose the unisex.
The door had no lock. That caused me to have some anxiety. But since I was standing with my back to the door rather than sitting facing the door, I decided things would be okay.
Our Thanksgiving dinner will be made up of the four of us this year. Our family is dispersed with Thanksgiving dinners in Chicago, Minneapolis and Mohunk.
Our Brooklyn wing of the family will dine on ham, macaroni and cheese, green beans, glazed carrots and a promise of nothing with kale prepared by the finest of chefs who is one of my daughters.
And my daughter-in-law ordered pies from her friend who owns Pie Corps in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.
Driving from Williamsburg to the Fairway in Red Hook yesterday I was ranting about the pension fight back home.
Candy had been reading about the troubles in the Dominican Republic and Haiti.
“Yes,” I said. “The thing about the United States is that no matter how f****ed up things get for people here there are places in the world that are even more f***ed up.”
I’m not sure that is something to be thankful for.
Since there are those here that are working really hard to level the playing field.
But, still. There is family. And friends. And those who join us to fight for what’s right.
And no kale at dinner tonight.
I’m always thankful for that.