Yesterday’s travel was complicated by horrid weather and even more horrid construction around LGA.
“When will you have an end?!?”, cried Julius II. I hope the new airport is a masterpiece of design. I’m not holding my breath. I understand that it’ll gain a runway.
45 minutes to get by bus from the terminal to the place where you now grab taxis.
And now for a massively important question.
Last night I went with a couple to a “red sauce” restaurant. Both of them are of Italian or Sicilian heritage. There ensued a discussion of terminology…
SAUCE or GRAVY?
Is that sauce or is it gravy?
Above, is what is billed as “Eggplant Parmisan”. I have to engage in a form of mental conditioning and preparation for these restaurants and remind myself, “I’m in America… I’m in America… Don’t compare it to Italy… You are not in Italy. They are not pretending we are in Italy.” What really gripes my cookies is when restaurants put on airs and try to pass themselves off as “authentic” when the only thing that is authentic might be that they reproduced on an industrial scale something like the cook’s grandmother, who had never set foot in the old country, remembered from her childhood in Howard Beach or North Beach. So, once I was able to throw the switch in my head for American mode, I was good and enjoyed the food.
BUT… the question remains.
So, SAUCE or GRAVY.