So last week I watched an episode of The Food Detective, and they were reviewing pizza in New York. The comparison was that it's the water that makes the pizza so d@mned good up there, and I have always agreed. So the experiment was that a pizza-man made three exact pies, but used water from New York, Los Angeles and Chicago.
There were 4-5 judges, and ultimately the NYC pizza won out. Proving that it truly DOES matter where the water comes from. So when you hear down here in NC that the owners of such-and-such pizzaria are from Brooklyn, or so-and-so grew up in Little Italy (or even in Italy, which is a whole other pizza altogether) or Staten Island, tell them that's all well and good, but it just doesn't cut it. And the bagels don't either, by the way!
Second, I finally watched the Sex & The City movie after all this time. Although I have never been exactly in the shoes (literally, I mean WHO HAS?!?) of Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte or Samantha, watching this movie made me wax nostalgic (is that even the right saying?) for the old days ... just a little bit.
I remembered the nights of traipsing around Manhattan, wearing too little clothing, bad shoes and having had too much to drink. I remember sitting in old man bars and ordering another, knowing I'd need to take a cab home and checking my back pocket to be sure I had enough cash. And I remember walking arm in arm with my closest friends, or those who fit that spot at the time, and laughing, talking, singing ... making our way through the city to find the perfect diner for that middle of the night, sober me up a bit, breakfast before the sunrise.
I miss those days, just a little bit, every now and again. But not nearly enough to go back to them. And while I will say that a night out on the town would be a blast, so many of my old haunts are gone now, as are many friends, so it just wouldn't be something I could even attempt to recreate.
I'll just leave that to Carrie and the girls.
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