Greenwich Village, Part Two. Finally.
After cupcake appetizers from Magnolia Bakery, we ate lunch at Pommes Frites, which of course is French for french fries. And that's all they serve, french fries, with 50 different sauces to dip them in. Pomme Frites is another tiny little store front with a line of people out the door and down the street, waiting to order at the little counter just inside. You get your french fries in a twisted cone of white paper; the tiny tables in the back of the store--where maybe eight people, total, can sit to eat inside--have tapering holes drilled in the top, long worn smooth from holding the fry cones upright. They are delicious fries, wonderfully seasoned and salty and crispy on the outside. I dipped mine in garlic-flavored mayo; Emily had melted cheese.
We blew through three or four bookstores too--small ones, whose owners must necessarily be experts at title selection. Biography Bookstore was one, and Three Lives Bookstore. I bought a few things, of course--could not resist a postcard of the Tic Toc Diner from earlier in the week, and since I had my debit card out it seemed silly not to buy Lopato's nice chunky collection of New York writings.
The few pictures I took of the Village don't do it justice, but they captured the beautiful day for me in part, anyway.
This is the park where we ate our Magnolia cupcakes (which I seem to remember promising someone, possibly my boss, that I would bake this weekend. Oops. Bringing home a Boonzaaijer "Extreme Chocolate Torte" for my husband kind of made me forget about baking)
Update from Sunday: I did bake the Magnolia cupcakes, and they are delicious but I am exhausted. I SO respect people who work in bakeries. I still haven't made poor Veronica her underpants, but they are cut out--nice pale clue batiste from the Bernina store, so fine I may have to sew them by hand.
