Author Archives: Yvonne

Lyman Orchards Corn Maze and a bi-annual Costco pitstop

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I don’t recall ever doing a corn maze during the fall growing up. I remember going to pumpkin patches, but the only corn maze I ever remember going to was out in Long Island in 2011 with some friends — at night. That corn maze was supposed to be spooky and “haunted,” and the only lights we had were via flashlights we were given or our own phones. Chris brought us to Lyman Orchards today in Middlefield, CT, for a corn maze and an apple stop. The theme was very fitting for us given what we’d recently eaten: it was Connecticut pizza themed! Kaia loved running through the corn maze and insisted on always going ahead of us and being first. She would also always squeal with high pitched delight every time she saw a corn on the cob that had its kernels peeking out. It was a really fun fall activity, and made even more fun by watching how happy and engaged Kaia was the whole time. Although I didn’t have a “bad” childhood, when I look at her and see how happy she is with all the experiences we’ve given her, it almost makes me relive my own childhood again just seeing how much joy she is experiencing. I love seeing her get excited about the leaves, the different seasons, and the different seasonal activities.

And of course, one last stop before we headed back to New York was at Costco! I loved the Costco experience in South Windsor, CT. Even though it was a Sunday, it wasn’t even remotely crowded. It actually felt quite quiet. There were barely any lines at checkout. The sample stations were quiet and not bombarded by endless hoards. The restroom was an easy in and out for us. And when we had a little lunch at the Costco food court, Chris easily got us a table and seats.

Here are some of the biggest highlights of what we discovered today:

Tim Tams (Australian formulation — WITH GOLDEN SYRUP ): Chris was very excited to see these, and of course, he added it to our cart to “tide him over” longer until he gets his Arnott’s haul replenished.

Kirkland Signature Belgian Chocolate Biscuit Cookie Tin: Chris’s favorite and present to himself each fall Costco trip we go on. 🙂

A WHOLE DUCK: For just over $16 grown at a farm in Indiana. I may finally use those duck class skills I learned a few years ago and get to work!

Wild chanterelle mushrooms: We haven’t scored these since the pandemic era. Chanterelles tend to grow in the fall and have a subtle but delicious earthy flavor. When they are in peak, they can go for anywhere from $28-50/pound, which is too much for me to stomach. I got two pounds of these babies today for $12.99/pound weeeee.

Nielsen Massey Vanilla Bean Paste: This brand always comes up in food forums I’m in where professional pastry chefs discuss products they love and absolutely need. I figured I’d never buy it because it was so expensive. But then Chris spotted it at Costco next to the vanilla extract and vanilla beans. I initially skimmed it over because I didn’t see the brand name. But when I did, I did a double take and scrutinized it to death, then Googled it to make sure this was the same product. A 10-ounce bottle of this magic was $19.99. For pricing reference, if you buy an 8-ounce bottle on Williams-Sonoma, it’s currently going for $47.95. What a deal! It’s best to use this product for baked goods where the vanilla flavor really needs to shine… and where you want to “see” the vanilla bean flecks.

Mrs. Meyers Hand Soap Combo Pack: Okay, so I’m kind of like Martha Stewart in that I do really like certain hand soaps over others, and Mrs. Meyers never fails. I almost got the same holiday scented set as last year until we came across the pack that includes the Tomato Vine scent, which I’d been curious about for a while because I’d read it had a near cult following!

We also got some good deals for clothes for Pookster, including a four-piece rainbow top and bottom set, a Minnie Mouse sweater, top, and pants set. And as the clothing section at Costco just keeps getting better and better, we also found some nice onesies that were Winnie the Pooh and Simba themed for some recent babies who have joined the family. It was a massive Costco haul this time, but I have zero doubt everything we got will go into good use (or into our bellies!).

More autumn leaves, Mark Twain House and Museum, and skeletons galore

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I’ve never been a big Halloween person. When I was young, I never got to have fun or elaborate costumes. I basically was a pumpkin for years on end because my parents didn’t care for Halloween, nor did they want to pay for us to have different costumes every year. But while I don’t really care for dressing up myself, I do love seeing other people’s Halloween decorations in front of their homes. In New York, we mostly see it when we go to the outer boroughs. Or in Manhattan, you can see a good amount of Halloween decorations at brownstones on the Upper West and Upper East Sides.

This trip, we’ve already seen endless massively large skeletons everywhere. Skeletons as tall as twenty feet have towered over people’s lawns. At March Farm where we stopped by for some apple cider donuts and photos so Kaia could frolic amongst the pumpkins, there was a huge tractor that had “run over” a skeleton. While we pointed this out to Kaia, she did not seem to mind much, as she was enjoying nibbling away at her first apple cider donut that she did not have to share.

During our coffee stop this morning before the Mark Twain House and Museum tour, we parked next to a car that had a skeleton in the front passenger seat. He had both his hands up… as well as his two middle fingers up! The Mark Twain House and Museum tour was fun and informative, though I will say that while the inside was quite elaborate that I enjoyed walking around its grounds just as much given all the fall foliage. It’s like the house was made to be flanked by these gorgeous autumn colors. The tour also kind of made me want to read Huckleberry Finn again… Maybe this time if I read it, I’ll do the audio version.

Maybe next year when Kaia has better fine motor skills, I’ll actually go get us a pumpkin that we can carve and light up — it will be Kaia’s first jack-o-lantern. Though I also did not do much of this growing up, when I’ve done this with friends or at work festivities, this has always been really fun and creative. Plus, there are so many tools available now that make pumpkin carving safe. It wouldn’t be like what my dad did when we were kids — he used an extremely dull (AND DANGEROUS) chef’s knife to cut poorly shaped triangles and squares to make a jack-o-lantern!

Long weekend in Connecticut for leaf peeping means tasty New England stops along the way

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Since Kaia’s first fall with us as a baby in October 2022, we’ve been doing a fall leaf peeping trip somewhere around the Northeast of the U.S. by car. The first year, we were based in Wilmington, Delaware. In 2023, we went to Springfield, Massachusetts, but unfortunately were a little too early given global warming; most of the trees were still pretty green. Then last year, we went upstate to Albany, New York, and the surrounds. We’ve found that we need to delay this trip to late October to see more of the vibrant autumn foliage. This trip was definitely timed perfectly: everywhere we drove, we saw so many brilliant shades of orange, goldenrod, and crimson.

Along the way, we stopped in Darien, Connecticut, to pick up some goodies from Flour Water Salt Bread, a local Connecticut bakery known for making every single item they have out of sourdough. When we popped in, I was pleasantly surprised to see generous baskets laid out on their counter of samples: vegan chocolate olive oil cake, pumpkin snickerdoodle, coffee cake, and chocolate chip cookie. This is nearly unheard of in New York City; if you want a sample, you can go ahead and fork over $5-9 for your desired pastry and “sample it” that way! Even their cookies are made with sourdough, which was quite shocking to me; I don’t know when the last time, if ever, I’d had a cookie made from sourdough! We settled on their sun-dried tomato focaccia (which Kaia picked almost all of the tomatoes off of to eat and left just the bread for us…), their salted caramel kouign amann, and a hefty loaf of their classic sourdough bread (made with ten percent upstate New York freshly milled flour).

After Flour Water Salt, we headed further north to New Haven, where we had lunch at Zuppardi’s Apizza. It is one of the well known New Haven pizza institutions, and it definitely lived up to its reputation: we had their signature tomato sauce pizza with mushrooms and homemade fennel sausage, plus their delicious white clam pizza. While I remember the other New Haven pizzas having a crispy and chewy crust, Zuppardi’s definitely seems to be more on the crispy, crunchy side, which I had no problem with and really enjoyed. I did notice that there did seem to be more sand residue on these clams than at Modern, which we went to last spring with Chris’s parents, but I guess that’s the “cost” of eating clams on white pizza.

It seems weird to say this, especially as someone who lives in New York City and loves New York City pizza, but in this very moment, white clam pizza is definitely my favorite pizza. Most people think of New York as the pizza capital of the U.S., but I may have to agree with a lot of these publications that say that maybe the real pizza capital of the U.S. is actually Connecticut! It’s rare to find white clam pizza in New York City, and if you do, it will inevitably be quite pricy. So while we are here, I’m thrilled to indulge and get my clams on pizza fix.

Jeans with belt loops for my very verbal and demanding toddler

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As Kaia has gotten older and more verbal, she’s been expressing more of her wants in terms of actual things she wants. In recent weeks, she has explicitly says she wants a Hello Kitty pink dress with sparkles, a birthday hat (I’m assuming it’s the cone type?), a play kitchen (hmmmmm, I am not sure about this one– we have a real kitchen. Is this really necessary?!), and new ice cream hair clips. In addition, she’s actually said for months that she wants to wear jeans. Earlier in the summer, I made the mistake of going to Uniqlo, being a practical toddler mom, and getting her faux jeans, as in, “jeans” that did not have an actual zipper, fly, or belt loops, but were simply denim in appearance with an elastic waist. When I told her I got her jeans and unveiled them, she was not happy. Her disappointment was written all over her face.

“But it doesn’t have belt loops!” Kaia cried, staring at her new “jeans” with the most horrified look on her face.

Yep, that was a failure. She ended up still wearing them fairly often (because we made her and had already removed the tags). But alas, I’ll have to give them away now because they were already running short back then for 4T (how the hell did this happen at Uniqlo?) and now, they are basically like cropped pants on her. This is definitely not good living in a place like New York City where we experience four seasons. And yes, we are currently in fall and quickly transitioning into winter very soon.

So as I usually do for her once a year, I did some online shopping this month with all the seasonal fall sales and got her a few things she needed. And I happened to find jeans with a “faux fly” and REAL belt loops, so I ordered them. And when they arrive, we shall see very soon if they live up to her standard of what “jeans” should be!

(One of) the most enjoyable conversation topics: cross-cultural differences

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I love talking about food, culture, travel, books, food, cooking, and more food. But when I think of the best and most interesting conversations I’ve had with people I am just getting to know, one of the most exciting ones is most definitely about cross-cultural differences. Although I have not always been passionate and loved what I have done for a living, I know I’ve been really lucky and privileged to meet a lot of genuine, kind-hearted, and truly good people in the last 17-plus years of full-time work. I mean, work life is how I met the love of my life — my fuzzball Chris. And it’s also how I’ve met some people I am lucky to still call friends today. What has also been lucky is that although all the companies I’ve worked for have been American companies, the last two have had global offices, so I’ve been able to meet people who were born, raised, and live in other countries that I previously had known little about.

I met up with a friend and former colleague from my last company who happened to be in town from Amsterdam today. I hadn’t seen him since pre-pandemic — in November 2019 in Amsterdam, so almost exactly six years ago. This was before COVID-19, before the world shut down, before he got married and had two kids, before I got laid off, started a new job, and then went through IVF and had Kaia Pookie. We did the best we could to cover what’s happened between our respective lives in the last six years since we saw each other, though we had loosely kept in touch over Whatsapp throughout these years. He told me that while he would be in Manhattan, he was also meeting up with another friend he’d made recently, an American he met while in Uzbekistan last month. This person was very friendly, and they got along really well during their travels. And he had said to him that if he would ever come to New York that he’d like to meet up with him. And so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to message him to ask because he really did plan on coming.

“So, I never know what to think of Americans when they say things like that because most of you don’t mean what you say,” my friend started. “If a Dutch person says they want to meet with you while you are in town, they definitely mean it. I’m very direct in that sense, as Dutch directness is a real thing. But Americans? Americans say all kinds of shit they don’t mean, and then I’m left wondering if they really mean their offer!”

I laughed at this because I know exactly what he means. People here always say stuff they never follow through on: “Please keep in touch (this is actually code for: let me stalk you silently on social media/LinkedIn especially so I can see how you are doing personally/professionally, but I have zero desire to interact directly with you live).” “Please reach out when you are in town, and we can grab coffee.” “Let’s get lunch when you’re around!” Personally, I’ve messaged former colleagues and people I thought were work friends when I’ve been where they are. And when it came to making plans, a number of them have just not responded or responded initially, and then when it came to setting a firm date and time, stopped replying. And that’s when I realized, okay, I made the effort, but they don’t want to make the effort, and therefore, I’m not going to try anymore. It is what it is; I accept it, stop thinking about it, and move on.

I told him that at this point, I think he knows me better than to assume I am full of shit – this is where I am not like the American stereotype. If I say I want to see you, I definitely do want to see you. I will never suggest catching up with someone I am either indifferent to or flat out do not like.

He grinned. “I know, and that’s why I messaged you to see if you wanted to have a meal! Plus, I knew you’d recommend a good place because you know food!”

I think American culture could improve quite a bit by being more direct the way Dutch people are. At work, it can be especially painful. One of the things (of a long, endless list) I hate the most about American work culture is excessive politeness and small talk because then you are left wondering if they are asking because they genuinely care, or if they are just doing all this to put on a polite front to gain favor with you. But I suppose that is the fun in working with global organizations — learning to navigate all these nuances and making sense of it.

Third time to Staten Island this year

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I shifted a bunch of meetings today so that I could go to my friend’s place in Staten Island and work remotely while also cooking for her. She’s now 2.5 months postpartum; it’s crazy how the time flies. Her baby has increased his weight by almost 50 percent and is very responsive now. My friend is pretty much healed from her birth and getting around a bit more. She’s now returned to cooking, something she enjoys, and is also proactively trying to get outside at least once a day for a walk and fresh air. It’s been good to see her healing and looking and sounding more like herself.

I will admit, though, that while I am happy to go all around New York City and explore different neighborhoods, it’s not necessarily the easiest or most convenient for me to get all the way out to her neighborhood in Staten Island. It is not subway accessible; I either need to take an express bus (which is an extra cost on top of an OMNY card) or the ferry; then, I need to either get picked up by her fiance or take an Uber/Lyft to and from her place. Staten Island is not public transportation friendly at all; it really requires you to own a car and drive everywhere, just like the suburbs. It is the least New York City-like of all five boroughs. While I enjoy the one-off rides on the ferry and seeing Manhattan drift away, plus views of the Statue of Liberty, I am not a fan of her being this far away and removed from everything she loves about New York. But I suck it up because it’s her choice to be there. This is my second time visiting her in Staten Island since she gave birth. I saw her once in the hospital after birth in Manhattan.

She was chatting with me about a bunch of her “good” or “close” friends while I was over today. Since she brought them up, I asked her if any of them (or any other friend, for that matter) had come to visit her since I was last over last month. The response was negative. I was her only friend who had come. The only other people who had been over were Joe’s family plus her own mom. I just found this really surprising. Usually, friends would love to come see their friend after giving birth and just to see the baby. I definitely don’t expect any of her friends to come cook and clean for her, but I’d at least think someone would have come to see her at least once. I am sure it has to do with distance given where she is located. People are lazy in general and don’t like to make huge efforts for others unless there is some incentive for them.

Though she has been my friend for almost thirty years, I don’t see her as just my friend; to me, she is my chosen family, my created and chosen “urban tribe” that I read about in my college sociology class. I treat her the way I would treat my own family members. And I know she sees me the same way. We are always bonded even without blood. And so I am happy to cook for her and stuff her face with browned butter pumpkin cookies and Chinese chicken wine soup. And unlike a lot of other friends I have, she is always, always outwardly and obviously grateful for even the littlest things I do for her. And that’s one of the many reasons I adore her.

Browned butter and cozy kitchen delights

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As I’ve gotten older, I can definitely feel my metabolism slowing down. I can’t eat as much food as I used to. I definitely cannot eat the same sweet things I once ate as a kid or even as a 20-something-year-old. Some sweets I choose to stay away from completely (hello, candy in general and sour belts, which I was obsessed with as a little kid), and other things I have in very small quantities. Once upon a time, I could probably just sit there and eat five medium sized freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in a single sitting. Now, I can eat… one. And then if I have made them myself, I need to really space them out. And as we all know, homemade desserts have a very short shelf life (no preservatives!), and they can get dry quickly given they are all natural. So, if you don’t finish them within a certain time, they are just nowhere as delicious and moist as day one or two. Given this, I bake desserts only when we have company or are bringing baked goods to someone else, with the exception of “healthy” baked treats for Kaia.

The problem with this is that baking is one of my biggest and first loves in life. I have so many fond, happy memories of baking in my aunt’s kitchen upstairs. Most of those bake sessions were from box mixes, but as a little kid, I didn’t understand, nor would I probably have cared. I was actually making something that my family and I could eat, and that seemed so special and amazing to me when I was four, five, and six years old. When you think about it, it’s still actually quite amazing: it’s amazing to be able to share food you have made with your own time, effort, and hands with the ones you love most. It’s special to nourish the ones who mean the most to you. Because what is more important than fueling our bodies with sustenance?

So last night, I browned butter for the first time in ages. In my early 20s, I used to do this a few times a year for special treats like browned butter chocolate chip cookies, financiers, among other rich delights. I browned an entire cup or 240 grams of butter, and the house smelled so sweet, caramelly, toasty, and utterly delightful. I used it for the browned butter pumpkin cookies I made my postpartum friend, which I will be bringing to her place tomorrow. She recently had a baby, and I wanted to bring her more food and cook for her. She texted me and said she was really enjoying the hawthorn tea blend I made for her, especially because it had cinnamon, and it felt very cozy for fall. So given this, I figured browned butter pumpkin cookies would go with her “autumn cozy” feelings.

I was packing up the cookies this evening and decided to try one fresh. And it was truly delicious: rich, pumpkin spicy flavor, with caramel notes from the browned butter. The sugar level was perfect and melded into the butter like a dream. It was soft and chewy, with this almost addictive texture that mirrors that of snickerdoodles. When I thought more about it, these really are the pumpkin and spice version of snickerdoodles! My snickerdoodle-obsessed friend would have loved these cookies. Chris even declared these cookies “Tim Tam level,” which coming from him is quite high praise. Scientifically Sweet recipes never fail to be a delicious success.

I drew the line at one cookie for today, though. Now that I am nearing 40, I think a lot more about how many sweets and rich foods I eat. That single cookie had about 11 grams of sugar. 😀 I loved it, but I do not need to eat too many of them in a single sitting.

Very “clean” baking mixes

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The neighbor I’ve been hanging out with while having play dates with our kids gave me a Simple Mills box mix for banana muffins or bread loaf. She said she has so many of this brand’s mixes that she’s gotten bored of the flavors, and she thought that maybe I could work my baking magic and jazz it up. The slogan is, “Only purposeful ingredients. Nothing artificial, ever.” The mix is gluten free and vegan (though it does call for three eggs and suggest using yogurt in place of water to increase moistness of the muffins). And when you look at the “simple ingredients” list, it just lists these: Almond Flour, Banana, Organic Coconut Sugar, Arrowroot, Organic Coconut Flour, Baking Soda, Organic Cinnamon, Sea Salt.

Based on the above ingredients list, there’s no weird artificial or “natural flavors.” No dyes or preservatives are listed. No weird names of things that the average person cannot pronounce are here. The average grocery store box mix has preservatives like propionate, potassium sorbate, sodium benzoate, and other emulsifiers. Simple Mills really is what it states: straightforward, simple ingredients. I wanted to believe this had to be good, so I decided to whip it out today and see how it was.

The instructions say to use three eggs, 1/2 cup water, and 1/3 cup oil. I used two eggs, replaced one egg with a “flax egg” (1 tablespoon ground flaxseed to 3 tablespoons water), replaced the water with yogurt as the suggestions stated to increase moistness, and used 1/3 cup coconut oil. The mixture seemed really thick, so I added some coconut and oat milk to thin it out a bit. I also wanted to add more spices because the only spice mentioned here was cinnamon, so I added some ground cardamom, ginger, allspice, nutmeg, and mace. I mixed it all up, added the batter into my mini muffin pan, and baked it. The bake time was also longer than I thought by about 50 percent, which was weird, but I’d rather have done muffins than liquidy ones.

Once the muffins were done and cooled, I tried one. It did not poof up the way wheat flour muffins do and was quite flat on top, but the flavor was pretty decent. The texture was soft and on pair with other almond-flour-based breads/muffins I’d had before. The spice flavor was very good. The one downside, though, was that there was absolutely zero taste of any banana. The spices, coconut milk, and oat milk had completely drowned out any banana fruit flavor.

I had one first and didn’t tell Chris what I thought. I did not want to influence what he tasted or thought. After he had one, he immediately said, “Not bad. Did you put something Indian in it?”

Touring schools while checking my Chinese proficiency

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Yesterday morning, Chris booked a tour of a private Chinese immersion school in our neighborhood. We actually visited this school about a year and a half ago when Kaia was getting ready for 3K, but because we found our current school in Chinatown, we decided to give this place a shot (and ended up really liking it). Fast forward, and believe it or not: we’re already looking into kindergarten and elementary schools for my sweet Kaia Pookie. Sometimes I just can’t believe how quickly time has flown. It was like just yesterday when I was still pregnant, nesting and getting everything for her arrival. And then she exploded into this world and made my heart swell more than I ever thought possible. She’s a tiny human with a strong personality making more and more sense of the world every day.

One part of the private tour we were on included observing a kindergarten class, so a class Kaia would hypothetically be in if we got in and chose to matriculate here. We entered and watched the teachers conduct the class. The kids, for the most part, were extremely well behaved, always raised their hands to speak, and their Chinese was quite good; I heard no one speak any English in this class. The teacher had images and Chinese words on the screen, and she was asking the kids to describe what they were seeing. As I looked at the projector and observed all the interactions, I was heartened and relieved by one thing: I could understand and read everything that was written and said in that classroom during that quick visit. So yay, I have at minimum kindergarten level mastery of Mandarin Chinese!

Although Kaia mostly responds back to me in English, occasionally she does surprise me by responding in Chinese. Sometimes, she shouts out the Chinese name of whatever object or thing it is that she sees. And maybe even once or twice, she’s corrected my Chinese. Yes, my almost-four-year-old wants to correct her mama’s Chinese! If she ends up going to this school, I may have to take a deep breath and just remind myself that if she continues to correct my Chinese, it’s actually a good thing, a sign that she’s getting more and more proficient, and way past whatever my level of proficiency is in the language.

The pre-judgments we make, and what happens when we are dead wrong about them

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My college friend who is in town this week is here with her boyfriend of 1.5 years. Her boyfriend is originally from India, did graduate work and work in New York for about nine years, and now lives in the Phoenix area. Given that he spent almost a decade living in New York City (different areas of Brooklyn), he knows it fairly well and told my friend he knew where to go and what the best places to eat were. My friend, who is also food obsessed, knows that I am food obsessive with both finding places to eat and cooking. So of course, she reached out to me for my recommendations for specific areas they’d spend time in. After I gave her a handful of recommendations for one or two neighborhoods, I sent her my entire NYC Google Map, which I am constantly updating (yes, really, pretty much every single day something is being added, edited, or removed at least once). This list, as of today, has 761 places across all five boroughs; yes, that’s right: all five boroughs. And when he saw her refer to this mysterious food map that I’d created, he got a bit jealous.

“What, are you really referring to your friend’s food map? her boyfriend said, rolling his eyes. “She lives in the Upper West Side. What would she know about Brooklyn food? Don’t you remember I lived here for nine years! I know the good spots!”

My friend was quick to put him in his place (I love this about this friend; she never fails to call out bullshit when she hears it and delights in telling people when they are wrong). “Umm, you clearly don’t know Yvonne at all,” she retorted. “She goes everywhere and knows all the places all over New York City. This list has over 700 spots across all the boroughs! Have you been to all these neighborhoods?! Plus, you moved away four years ago; a lot has changed since then!”

His friends they were staying with made similar comments, trying to dismiss anything that someone like me living on the Upper West Side could suggest. My friend was annoyed because she kept saying she wanted to eat Asian food, but all those friends did was take them to Italian-adjacent and American foods places. “I can eat this food in Phoenix!” she grumbled. “I want ASIAN FOOD!” Somehow, her preferences went mostly unheard.

While her boyfriend’s eyes did widen after he heard the 700+ spot comment, he still was not convinced. He wanted to box Chris and me into the “Upper West Side” box, as in, if we live here, we must not know much about any neighborhood outside of where we live (or work)… because why on earth would anyone want to leave their neighborhood and see other areas? And this is where he was glaringly, glaringly dead wrong about us.

On Wednesday when they mapped our address to come over for dinner, he immediately saw the Google map label that said our building was a “luxury building.” He looked at my friend and said, “Who the hell are these people?” And when he got to our lobby, checked in with the doorman, and went up the elevator, he made more comments like this, in shock and confusion of who the hell we were and what the hell we did for a living that would allow us to live in a “luxury building” like the one they’d be hanging out in for the next nearly five hours.

So over the course of their time at our place, somehow all his assumptions were proven wrong — about Chris, about me, about what it means for people like us to live on the Upper West Side of New York and what that may say about who we are as individuals and what we like, dislike, and believe in. He ate my food. He drank Chris’s whisky and wine. He laughed at our commentary and banter and engaged with us. He had a good time and felt like himself. And on their hour-long commute back to his friend’s place in Brooklyn with my friend, he said he liked us a lot and perhaps the greatest praise of all you can give to your girlfriend’s friends: “They’re my kind of people.”

It’s always fun when assumptions are proven wrong, isn’t it?