NYC Day 1: Of Borscht and Buttons

Anyway, the way I figured, I could sit on my duff in my apartment or I could say, “Screw you, Paris, and all motorcycles!”, and get up and around. There are no scenarios right now where I don’t have some pain, so I may as well have some pain and some fun.

Fun was had last night, at the supper wherein my friend Fr. Murray was appropriately honored.   It was also a great fundraiser for a good pro-life group founded by Fr. Benedict Groeschel.   I knew lots of people and lots of people knew me.  It was a pleasure to catch up and to hear new names and stories.

This morning I decided, “Heck yeah! I’m going for some Borscht!”, and so I did.   The Uber network was a little wonky, so it took a while to take, but I got downtown to Veselka, a favorite stop of mine for the aforesaid…

I started with a bowl of the usual.

Then had a cup of the seasonal Christmas Borscht and half a sandwich with a little piece of kielbasa to boot.

Uber’s network was completely down by the end of lunch.   You could get nothing on their map, couldn’t set locations, could see cars.   So, good ol’ two finger whistle and a cane wave  to a yellow got me home just fine.   I checked out the Uber network map: down.

There’s a new app for cabs that can function a bit like Uber, with calling cabs, on the phone pay, etc.

Back to the rectory to rest.   I was picked up by friends for supper.

Which drink is mine?

I was impressed by the simple butter lettuce with vinaigrette.    The leaves were stacked large to small and dressed along the way.  When cut it gave a nice “wedge” like appearance, but so not like iceberg.   Nicely done. I’ll file that away.

At some point in the last 36 hours, someone gave me one of these buttons.  I won’t say where or when.   It’s missing the final Ò but the intent is clear.

So far so good.   While I won’t be able to do all the things I would like, with careful pacing and prudent use of transportation I can do some of the things that I would like.  We mustn’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.

And there’s always next time.

About Fr. John Zuhlsdorf

Fr. Z is the guy who runs this blog. o{]:¬)
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  1. JustaSinner says:

    Does Veselka’s still have the Giant Meat Plate for under twenty bucks?

  2. SanSan says:

    YAY! Thank you Jesus. Prayers answered!

  3. JonPatrick says:

    Uber unfortunately is another one of those things that separates the technological haves from the have-nots. Since I have a Betamax phone whereas the rest of the technologically proficient world has a VHS (older readers will understand the analogy) I can’t get the app. Nor can anyone who has a simple flip phone for basic communication. I do eventually plan to convert but it means giving up my cherished keyboard for the dreaded touch screen. Oh well technology marches on and things that were once luxuries are now necessities. Sorry for the rant.

    Re the butter lettuce, there does seem to be more of an interest lately in different kinds of lettuce since the recent Romaine scare has driven it out of many restaurants. I only mourn the loss of the Caesar Salad, with anchovies of course, the only proper way to have it.

  4. RKR says:

    Cafepress also has Viganò bumper stickers, T-shirts and such, all with the correct diacritic.

    I made lots of borscht this summer with a bumper crop of beets from my garden. It is not only tasty but one of the most beautifully colored foods!

    Glad you were able to make the trip.

  5. Suburbanbanshee says:

    Borscht is so good! And heck, beets also fight inflammation, helps your blood move oxygen and get iron, etc. So your body was telling you something very sensible when it asked for two bowls. (Probably made good use of the bread and sausage, too. Real stick to your ribs food.)

    Stay warm and keep up the gentle exercise! Hope you feel better soon!

  6. Julia_Augusta says:

    Always have the Lyft app on your phone as an alternative. Most drivers use Uber and Lyft.

  7. Semper Gumby says:

    Glad to hear Fr. Z made it to Fr. Murray’s dinner in time and is enjoying NYC.

    That image above might not be the Uber network map. It seems to be a satellite photo of Tracer Bullet outside the Met, happily chain-smoking his way through a pack of Lucky Strikes.

  8. I read somewhere that, on account of its structural integrity, butter lettuce makes a highly effective hamburger bun (for those of us who need to not eat (ordinary) bread).

  9. Semper Gumby says: Tracer Bullet

    I looked for him today at the usual secret drop place (near the hot dog stand). He must have gone to pick up more heaters. Maybe Friday, same place.

  10. Semper Gumby says:

    Fr. Z: A letter to you from Tracer Bullet, written on water-soluble paper.

    Padre, we got those heaters all right. Eighty fell off the back of a truck on the way from the docks to the Soviet and Nazi consulates. Too bad. Vito Corleone’s boys are now handing out those space heaters to poor families from Little Italy to Harlem.

    Don Corleone is thinking about Confession, again. But he wants to talk to you first Padre, Friday at noon, Central Park.

    Padre, at 11am join a Central Park Walking Tour near the Met. Never mind the Masonic balderdash you’ll probably hear at Cleopatra’s Needle, keep a low profile. At Belvedere Castle keep an eye out for the Consigliere, wearing a camera around his neck and carrying three sack lunches from the Met hotdog stand. He’s no palooka and he knows you’re no rube. The Consigliere said there would be no goons, henchmen, or hatchetmen there. So this meeting is probably on the level.

    But, I spoke with Lt. O’Malley, don’t phone him. He and his bulls will be at Belvedere Castle in plainclothes. They’re a meteorology professor and students touring the Castle’s weather station. Just in case there’s any funny business.

    Padre, when you meet Don Corleone you might want to first warm things up and congratulate the Don, his nephew Sal won the cannoli-eating contest at the San Gennaro Festival.

    Next round of boilermakers is on me, Padre.

    Your servant in Christ,
    Tracer Bullet,
    Ace Private Eye

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