Soy Lattes on the 32nd Floor

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


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


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.


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.


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.


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.


On to Newton, New Jersey. . .


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