Where would Phoebe go?

I had lunch today with my mother and aunt at Sant Ambroeus, which used to be Fauchon, which in turn used to be Sant Ambroeus. I have no idea how either real estate or the restaurant business work, so all I can say is that every so often the awning changes, though the place otherwise stays more or less the same. I think this might have counted as "doing" lunch, since the place is geared towards ladies who lunch, and at the next table were two women with perfectly blonded hair, each with a crisp-looking baby carriage and a large glass of wine. I had a delicious salad (and quite a bit of my mother's still-more-delicious salad). Bread, though, was available only upon request, which is probably because it's so rarely consumed.

Yesterday, I took many subways around the city. At one point a guy was sitting next to me with a "UChicago" bag. It was a Graduate School of Business bag, though, and the guy was listening to an iPod, so I didn't give him the same "yay, Chicago!" cry as I might have otherwise. (I gave a hearty shout-out a week or so ago to a man in a Stuyvesant Class of 1973 shirt.)

Today I was on 125th Street, which now has its very own Citarella. 125th has definitely surpassed Canal in terms of gentrification, which is surprising given that the latter is bordered by SoHo and TriBeCa.

The most wonderful place in the entire world is Chickpea. To put it another way, Chickpea is the most wonderful place in the entire world.