I seem to be doing brunch a lot lately. It’s winter, and weekend mornings do not yet lead naturally to coffee on the back porch or walks in the park. It’s February, and we need our friends, the comfort of steaming plates of eggy things, and the morning light pouring in. My sister The…
There’s all kinds of art to be found in New York. There is music, soaring out of the subway tunnels: African song; jazz sax; four part gospel harmonies; my niece The Red Headed Busker, singing her own pop melodies and hip hop inflected urban hymns. There are art galleries, for sure, with their uneven…
I’ve always believed that love stories should be written about friends. The sweetness of their casual love, the juiciness of their gossip the thrill of sharing a meal. There’s no ceremony, no legal process no champagne when someone enters your life and becomes a lifelong friend. But there is often celebration. And meals. Lots…