I had breakfast with my neighbor this morning. She had bread from She Wolf, pastries from Little Spain and fruit from the farmers’ market. She loves food as much as I do. I stole pastries from my cafe and paid with my own cash money for Harney&sons cranberry tea and my ever favorite slab bacon, from Greenpoint.
We used to just know each other to say hello, but then there was a situation which put me on the lamb, which put me in the position of knocking on her door, to ask if she were by chance, looking for a temporary roommate.
Her answer was, “No. I am not looking for a roommate, and I will never want a roommate. But you are welcome to stay.”
No questions asked. I stayed for three weeks, until I figured out a permanent crib.
We both wake up at the crack of dawn. We would find each other in the kitchen and make our own coffee and drink it together, and sometimes I would steal pastries from the cafe then too. I cooked for her a few
times, but not enough.
Now, we are friends; so now I can make it up to her. I will just keep cooking.
Always good to have cooking in your pocket.