On my own in the Big Apple: Monday

I stayed for two nights with a friend from Camp Tel Yehudah. We'd met as counselors in 1979 and had stayed in touch over all these years. H has a terrific apartment on the Upper West Side, not far from the Hotel Excelsior. He took a break from a big project and we spent the afternoon and evening together.

We went to dinner at local bistro Cafe Mozart where I enjoyed a wonderful, Parisian-style meal of fresh bread, pate de fois gras and a big green salad. That allowed me to leave room for a sentimental dessert of fresh cannoli. In all the years H and I have known each other, he was always on the scout for the freshest cannoli. "Fresh" to H means the filling doesn't hit the shell until you place an order. Well, this cannoli was so fresh the shell crumbled into pieces when forked apart and the filling overflowed out each end. So delicious!

I stumbled onto the sofa bed and crashed until 10:30 the next morning.