Penguins are very fluffy animals. That much (and more!) I learned from "March of the Penguins," which I saw yesterday, on the steamy Upper West Side. Baby penguins are incredible. Not quite as wonderful as polar bears or huskies, their fellow snow-animals, but still very soft, from what I can tell. But the problem I had during the movie was all the talk about how "it's been four months since the penguins have eaten," and so on. Well, all I'd had for lunch was an "almost-no-fat cranberry spice muffin" from the City Bakery, so I was really identifying with those penguins. Not because of their monogamous egg-production (I produce eggs on my own just fine) but because, gosh darn it, I was hungry! So afterwards I wolfed down a slice of spinach-and-tomato pizza so quickly that I was officially named Queen of the Upper West Side and given a pair of Naot sandals and a lifetime supply of organic granola from the Fairway as prizes. OK, no prizes were awarded, but my dining companion appeared to be impressed.