We’ve been living in New York City for a whole year! Rodents scare me less. I now understand the phrase “live-in super,” and get what a perk it is to have access to one. I’ve learned not to make eye contact on the subway, and accept it not as rudeness, but as the way New Yorkers give each other privacy in a super crowded city where you’re afforded little solitude. I’m quicker to anger now, and faster with a retort, especially with rude people on the streets, and I don’t see any of that as a bad thing. I see friends more often here than I did in LA, and think it has something to do with the trains, but I’m not quite sure.
Gone are the days of the biannual Costco trips to buy the 48-pack of toilet paper (I miss this more than I thought I would). I don’t blink twice when I see $3.50 tacos on a menu anymore. I have NO idea what a gallon of gas costs today. When we first moved from LA, my tender driving feet ached at the end of every day. These days walking a mile a day is whatever. It’s also known as: getting home from the A train.
The other thing that’s changed in my life is pizza, pizza, and more pizza. If you were to take my weekly taco intake in Los Angeles and swap it out for pizza in New York, you’d have a good sense of its new place in my life. (I should add: I used to eat a lot of tacos when I lived in LA.) K and I don’t discriminate–we love the cheap slices as much as we enjoy the fancypants gourmet pizzas. We’ve liked Lucali, Rubirosa, Sottocasa, Roberta’s. But I don’t have time for any of that Holy Grail of NYC Pizza crap. At a certain point it’s all terrific.
The slices in this photo are from My Little Pizzeria on Court Street, which has a small plastic bucket of fresh basil leaves on the counter for your own taking. Perfect addition to fresh from the oven reheated pizza.