Sunday in New York City

The end of a whirlwind trip

After Rachelle and Raul's wedding, I stayed with Rachel and Noah for my last night in New York. They built me a nest on the floor of the bedroom: a mattress topped with blankets, a plush comforter, and plenty of pillows to sink into. Noah told Rachel and I bedtime story about two little pinkie mice — which upon Googling appear to be newborn mice. But for Noah's purposes, pinkie mice were more like pinky mice — mice the size of your pinky. The pinky mice were named Kelsey and Rachel and they lived in a French bakery or some such wonderfulness. I dozed off shortly thereafter, so the details of our mouse-sized adventures is lost on me — but I do know they were sweet and perfectly suited to a bedtime story. 

In the morning, the real Kelsey and Rachel went to a real bakery for a baguette and pastries while Noah cooked us a Spanish torta made with sliced potatoes & onions, eggs, and cheese. Yum! That's definitely one to attempt at home someday soon. Shortly after our delicious brunch, the three of us headed out into the city — Noah to tape rummage sale flyers around the neighborhood, Rachel to show me a thing or two of Greenwich Village, and myself to enjoy New York in the fall before my all-too-early flight back to Milwaukee. 

We stopped into a shop that sells dozens of flavors of salt — and gorgeous flowers. Because, you know, salt and flowers are like peas and carrots. But really it was a charming shop, as were the many others we explored: a card shop (where I wanted everything and therefore walked away with nothing), a tea shop with great glass jars of tea leaves, and a cheese shop (*Note: Send me there to die).

All along our journey, Noah taped flyers to street signs and lampposts. We were on our way to Washington Square Park, which I'd never been to before. There, Rachel and I naturally had to take a pic in front of the miniature Arc de Triomphe — a nod to our days spent in France. 

Before hitching a ride on the airport-bound subway, my friends made sure I got myself a "New York slice" — something, to my memory, I'd never had before. That was some tasty cracker-crisp crust! When can I go back for seconds?