So I’m at work in Connecticut, eating some chow mein noodles. You know, the crunchy kind that you get for free when you order Chinese take-out. I glance down at the package and see the big steaming-bowl logo that’s on the noodle factory kitty-corner from where I live. I look at the address on the cellophane and — sure enough — I’ve been eating snacks made in my neighborhood for weeks now. Kooky.
Speaking of my neighborhood, lovely East Williamsburg, I noticed a listing in Paper today (the issue with sinfully delicious Jude Law on the cover) that there’s a club near my house called Cima that does a big Body-&-Soul-esque house party on saturday nights. In East Williamsburg!
Jeez, maybe we’ll get a decent place to eat sometime soon. If there were one good café or diner in my area, I would be there ALL THE TIME.