Just a couple of chicks clucking in the henhouse, me and A. on the Upper West Side, a Bronx-Brooklyn compromise, hot coffee and eggs, A. had the porridge. What do you think the porridge is like? she asked. Like oatmeal I said. The disdain! But our waiter said it was one of my favorites (likely story) so that’s what A. ordered, supplemented with the rice pudding parfait and a large hot chocolate. Go big or go home.
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