(G-rated!) we cabbed down to Greenwich Village
and walked and walked. Much more my scene than the
Upper East Side, I must say! (Even if the one-bedroom
apartment sells for a cool million.) Families with strollers,
funky hippie chicks, denim & boots and caffeine.
We supped at Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill -- nouveau Mexican.
Bustling, crowded, humid, with impeccable service
and equally impeccable cuisine. My chopped salad
contained kidney beans, garbanzos, tomatoes, kalamata
olives, generous chunks of Jack cheese and neat tiny squares
of multi-colored crispy tortillas. Traditional with a twist!
Very satisfying. As usual, my friendly husband chatted it up
with our fellow diners, and we met a delightful young couple
from Puerto Rico, as well as some locals. Other than the fact
that we were visibly elder in this crowd, dinner was fantastic.
(When did we become not twenty-something? Or at least
thirty-something? Okay. I'm going to stop right here.)
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