Lynn and I had brunch at the Breslin restraurant in the uber cool Ace Hotel in the Chelsea section of New York. The interior had all the trademarks of the kind of brawny bohemianism that places like Freeman's have stamped NY hipster culture with of late: Dark, rugged interiors, a bar that looked like it could have been in My Darling Clementine, and a clientelle with handlebar mustaches and the slim silouettes of a professional gunfighter.
Our waitress with her distinctive eyeware, cut-off jeans and white, lace leggings was attentive and accomadating to a degree that was almost humorous. We had herbed Ceasar Salad with anchovies and croutons (a savory treat to snap me awake from an eventful day and night) and Lynn had egg whites with curried lentils. Best of all was the plate of otherworldly greens that the waitress gathered up in the kitchen for us. She explained how they were so amazing by way of saying "We have a woman who goes out on her bikes and forages for these in some of the markets around."
|Greens foraged exclusively for Lynn...|