Soy Lattes on the 32nd Floor

A window with a view has me waking as a cat.

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I perch near the window, eyeing the world below. 32 elevator clicks closer to the sky.

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I woke to a second day in New York to salt-crusted sesame bagels and a foamy soy coffee. Tired eyes from a night on the town. Broadway stalking with a few drips of artistic cocktails.

My dad, sister and I left the hotel to find baked goods at Sullivan Street Bakery. Cold air warranted our ski caps and fleece boots. We found the warmth of fresh baked bread at a cozy secondary business location via taxi.

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Quaint. A few shelves. Christmas fairy lights next to cookbooks and doughnut bites. I picked a wrapped cake wedge flavored with oranges and olive oil. The crumbs melted on my tongue. We left laden with loaves of whole wheat porridge and Italian loaves.

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We braced the cold for Xi’an Famous Foods. A winding line through two kitchens and out to the street. Reasonable for noodle ribbons homemade as a grandmother’s chicken soup might be. Thick, soft and soaked in piping broth.

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My order: Ns5. Coding for seitan with vegetable broth, potatoes, cabbage and a mild chili garnish. Golden and soul-warming.

Striding back to Times Square. Past Celtic pubs, scarf enthusiasts, and dogs pattering on crosswalks.

We left New York as we’d arrived. By a red minivan weaving through lines of cars. Past Central Park through the Lincoln Tunnel.

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On to Newton, New Jersey. . .

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