Here is a view of the Christmas tree at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The display of Neapolitan figures around the tree this year is incoherent at best. However, I did like the pig crossing the bridge and the monkey with the cymbals. More on them later.
The Met – drat them – eliminated the nice metal buttons, which I enjoyed getting during my visits. Now they have these dreadful stickers. People put them on a board on the way out of the building.
Want some pastrami? I’ve got your pastrami right here. On rye. With a smear of spicy mustard. Pickles on the side. I now have another thing to dream about.
Yes, back to the Met. How can you not love a room that has a painting by Duccio?
On Christmas Eve/Day I must have panettone and prosecco. It’s my tradition founded on an experience I had many years ago now. R.I.P.
Fighting my way into Grand Central Terminal during the Christmas shoppers/tourists season.
On the Triborough Bridge… okay… the RFK.
How much is the skinned-goat in the window? The one with the curtailed tail? Bonus: a large metal tray of tripe.
Grilled soul in lemon…er… that would be sole. It’s a Greek thing, not an Infernal thing. If it’s Greek, it’ll probably involve lemon.