A blistering, hot week in NYC. Having spent a few weeks in India in August (!), I was reminded of the silence that envelops people when they’re surrounded by heat. During this past week in NYC, most people seemed to cope with it by regarding air conditioning as the holy grail. You seek it, find it and worship it. The day’s plan was to run from your apartment’s a.c. to the taxi/bus/subway a.c. and into your office/shop/studio/unemployment center/Y/library a.c. and then repeat the process at the end of the day .
New York City Restaurant Week is officially from July 22 to August 16. Counting on my fingers, I get 19 days in NYC’s restaurant week. Whatever. A friend and I went to a Russian restaurant that began its restaurant week a week early and had blini with red caviar, braised short ribs and apple strudel. What? you say. In 100 degree weather you’re eating for the Arctic not for the Sahara. Too true. The next day I felt like a human furnace, but it was so good while I was doing it.