It was very, very cold on Sunday in Manhattan. I dressed in layers-six to be exact, to get to French Roast on 85th and Broadway to meet a friend for dinner. Six layers of clothing tends to restructure a body. I didn’t care what I looked like. All I wanted was to be warm. How do those hardy souls who belong to the polar bear club in Brooklyn go out in the middle of winter for a dip in the ocean? That would be called torture to some of us. It was warm, crowded and comfortable at French Roast. We had a window seat and could watch the different ways people dress to ward off the cold. We thought the one way to ward off the cold was to have a hamburger and french fries. Salads and vegetables are usually the order of the day, but this just didn’t feel like a salad and veggie day. When dinner was finished and it was time to leave, well, we weren’t ready. So, we had to order dessert. Anything to prolong the stay.
Yes, it was very, very cold on Sunday.