9/09/2007
Last post. Thanks
Dinner for two at Mercat
8/30/2007
8/24/2007
An evening at Shea Stadium
Just a small note about the delightful American fast food you can taste on your seat while you watch the game. Sitting on the row we took the advantage of the moment to taste the delicious and already mythical Nathan's hot dogs with mustard and relish. By the way, I can not say the same about the disappointing beer and the fries.
So that was my wonderful baseball premiere, I can't wait for more magic nights at the Shea!
8/10/2007
Happy Birthday
At the corner of the 3rd st. at 7th ave. I found a very cozy Italian restaurant called "Sette Enoteca e Cucina". They were offering a nice price-fixed menu for lunch and I took the advantage of the deal to have a fresh salad and a delicious dish of pasta in its quiet patio by the 7th ave.
After the gifts orgy we recovered energy at a fusion Japanese-Thai restaurant by the neighborhood.
The food was correct but not as remarkable as the night deserved, so we decided to culminate the feast with a sweet desert at The Chocolate Room. There we enjoyed one of the 10 best Chocolate Cakes in NYC (NYMagazine2006) and a real and tasty Coffee Espresso conveniently accompanied by "Death Cub for Cutie" music. The day ended as sweet as it started. And so, happy birthday!
7/31/2007
7/27/2007
7/23/2007
7/16/2007
7/04/2007
7/02/2007
6/07/2007
Comedy Cellar
6/06/2007
Stolen stones
6/05/2007
Memorial Day in Boston
5/10/2007
5/08/2007
Global meme
3/30/2007
MET Opera
3/27/2007
Salvador Espriu
Oh, how tired I am of my
craven old brutish land,
and how I'd like to get away from it
to the north
where they say people are clean
and noble, learned, rich, free
wide-awake and happy.
Then in the congregation, the brothers would say
disapprovingly: "Like the bird who leaves the nest
is that man who forsakes his place,"
while I, now far away, would laugh
at the law and ancient wisdom
of this, my arid village.
But I must never follow my dream
and I'll stay here till I die.
For I'm craven and brutish too.
And what's more I love, with a
desperate grief,
this my poor,
dirty, sad, unlucky homeland.