We made it downtown around 3pm on Saturday, so we just walked and wandered before our 7pm dinner reservation.
|My 324th photo of something aqua, just from this month alone. Photo of Amalie? Nope.|
|"Where's the straw, Ron?"|
Ama wanted to try Farmacia (the same place Leslie and I did brunch with mom the weekend before), and everyone enjoyed it. Afterward, the four of us walked all the way up Market to 19th while discussing the misery that is undergraduate fashion these days (Ron is the only one of us who doesn't work at a university, although Nick's days are numbered since he just turned in his dissertation the other day). Most lamentable for women are 1) jumpsuits (personally, I think there's a right way and a wrong way to do a jumpsuit--the tailoring needs to be perfect--but I was in the minority) 2) the high-waisted/ass-cheeks-hanging-out-the-bottom-shorts that college girls are wearing all over the place and finally 3) those ass-tight teeny-tiny strapless dresses that girls wore to all the spring frat formals ... you know the kind: basically it's a tube top, but it's three inches longer than a tube top so that it technically, but barely, covers your bits and pieces and somehow does the job of a dress. I'm using the word "dress" extremely loosely here. Extremely.
The next morning, Ron slept in--like way in--and then we headed out to brunch. Next time, I definitely want to try Mercato, but Garces Trading Company didn't disappoint. We expected it to be crazy insane and maybe we would only have to wait 45 minutes for a table (it was a gorgeous morning) ... but it was pretty quiet inside. Maybe everyone was down the shore?
|I'm sure by now both Erin and Laurie have noticed the smudge on my lens (or, maybe, the mirror?) and it's driving them FREAKING INSANE.|
|For the second course, I had the Spanish frittata...|
|... and Ron had a scrambled egg thing and ordered fries too. We took home a lot of what we ordered, but not the pastries. We ate them ALL.|
|Ha! It says "Focus" right in the middle of the shot--just caught that.|
|Love this guy with his dog.|
|Since when is there a statue of Willow in Rittenhouse?|
Ron went upstairs and I went to a bunch of stores that I knew he didn't care about--I spared him the agony. When I came back, we headed off to the Magic Gardens on South Street because I had heard Leslie talk about it a few times. I had no idea what it was about--we just showed up.
|Went and found Amalie's new apartment. I knew the front of the place was blue, so I had to peek in the front window to confirm it was the place with the big painting over the white fireplace.|
|This is Halloween, one of the coolest jewelry stores anywhere. You have to ring the bell to get in--I skipped it this time.|
I honestly didn't know what to expect when we arrived there. Basically, this guy took a ton of random junk and stuck it into walls. Ta-da! That's it. You just sort of wander around and you find that you end up on a scavenger hunt for stuff--there's no actual list (that I know of), but you notice stuff stuck in the cement and it makes you look around for more stuff like it.
|I have a blue hand just like that peach one ...|
|Longwood has a fountain with fish like this one ...|
|They have a museum with a bunch of papier mache sculptures too. Is it sad that I looked at this one and felt like I was looking in a mirror? People: It's a bittersweet symphony if you know what I mean.|
|Metaphysically, I believe this is true but practically speaking, we all know it's not.|
The Magic Gardens are on South Street, so we kept walking east. Unfortunately, it was pretty hot out, South Street (as usual) was crowded and just as lame as I remember it being in college (I guess I thought it would be different?), and somewhere around 3rd and South I realized that ye ole bunion foot hurt really bad and that we were a bazillion miles away from Leslie's apartment. And it was really hot and crowded. Did I say that already? I was freakin done. But we walked aaaaaallllll the way back to Rittenhouse and up the four flights of steps to pack up our stuff and catch the train home.
Lucky for me, we had bought the macaron plate at brunch and asked them to wrap it up to go. When we finally made it home, washed away the sweat of the day, and soaked the bunion foot in an ice bath, we broke them open:
|Sea salt caramel, pistachio, chocolate, lemon, raspberry, and lavender in the center. Don't know if I could pick a favorite.|
The next morning, the first thing I saw was this:
And we had the whole day off--not a bad weekend.
Leslie's going to Chicago in June ... guess someone should stop by to water her plants while she's away ...