An update on the restaurant situation in New York: this evening, Sant Ambroeus on Madison Avenue was packed as ever, but there were no specials. For the first time in all these years that I frequent Sant Ambroeus: no specials. The bourgeoisie is suffering.
But watching the other tables at Sant Ambroeus tonight, I have to say that these people were brave, they managed to survive without specials; they just ordered another glass of wine.
I also visited my apartment on 37th Street. Below 39th Street everything is still dark. Below 39th Street Manhattan becomes a ghost town. The neighbor above me managed to listen to music, I guess old-fashioned batteries did the trick, and the old lady on the ground floor was sleeping with the door open.
I still hope to leave NY tomorrow on an Air France flight.
Tomorrow also: enough about Sandy, tomorrow it’s time for John Cheever.