sunday funday

lately, when i haven't been sleeping or washing my hair or at work, i've been rehearsing for dog days or in traffic on the way to or from rehearsing for dog days. even though i'm pretty much in love with that opera {seriously, you guys, see it}, the rehearsal hours are not conducive to checking off the brooklyn-based tasks on my fun-genda, which has tripled in size since i moved here. 

so when today's rehearsal became an unrehearsal, or, a day off, mr. nfh and i immediately took to the road on our bikes {and my new bike seat! which cost the equivalent of two black label burgers but whatever} and ate brunch*, and then brunch again**, and then lunch***, and then kind of lunch again****. we made pumpkin risotto omgomgomgomgomg pumpkin season omg risotto season, and stopped at mast brothers for a little chocolate tasting. 

it was the best! we even tried on hats.

-yeh!!!

*bergen bagels has become my favorite for sunday salmon.

**because you should always judge a pancake by its title: parish hall's johnny cakes

***similarly, because you should always judge a sandwich by its title: saltie's scuttlebutt

****an emergency how-are-we-gonna-bike-up-this-hill granola bar?

morning magic

my mornings are typically spent at home: writing articles, studying music, editing photos, testing recipes. it's my little bit of playtime before i head to an office, and lately this has included more oatmeal than even a picky five-year-old could fathom.

but today i called in sick for my own morning. we'll call it an executive decision. i got out my favorite dishes {the egg cups from zaanse schaanse, the cheese board from amsterdam, the plate from *hehe* staten island}, stirred a bit of halva spread into my yogurt, and took the extra bit of time to sprinkle just the right amount of salt and pepper onto my medium boiled egg.

i'd say it was magic. the kind you can't plan. the kind that seems to be happening more and more these days. maybe it's the brooklyn air?

after a second {or third} espresso, i put on my sweater* to be on my way to manhattan, but not before stopping at a little bakery for half of a miche and a chocolate chip shortbread.

-yeh!

*someone gimme a barf bag, i could puke in excitement over this newly arrived sweater weather.

p.s. love this giant 

faraway rockaway

slightly earlier than what one would call "just before sunrise," i sat alone in my kitchen with an iced coffee and the ann romney speech. 

a noise came: outside my door, in the pitch black, there was an invitation to bike to the coast. we were to leave at that very moment. 

ok. absolutely.

obviously. 

we biked into the day, biked biked biked, over the bridges/past the woods/towards the sun, to a beach with surfers and seagulls and the perfect spot for fruits and croissants.

32 miles and a peanut butter m & m emergency later, i emptied the sand from my shoes and dashed to work.

it was one of the more perfect mornings, i'd say.

-yeh

problem.

the problem with being in love with my new apartment is that there are just too many fantastic looking restaurants that i can't be arsed to try on account of why shouldn't i stay in my sunny kitchen all day and cook all of the things that pass through my stream of consciousness? corn muffins with bacon and apples for donny and mo? ok. almond chocolate meringues? yes. brunch for craig? oh yes absolutely omg yes craig was in town and we ate eggs and split a pumpkin whoopie pie.

and then yesterday a thought arouse that was something along the lines of: i am going to be single for as long as i live in this apartment because with the amount that i love this place, how can i possibly love another thing, such as a human being?

perhaps this is what we call "taking this too far."

-yeh!