Last night we made a trip to our local supermarket to buy groceries. Not uncommon and barely worth mentioning, except that this evening the seeds of a rift in our marriage were planted in the bread aisle of Trade Fair. We usually do our grocery shopping after 10 PM because if you come earlier the supermarket is so teaming with humanity it's like trying to play Twister in the Black Hole of Calcutta. It was here that my husband, John, decided to take up Trade Fair on their three bialys for a dollar offer.
"I hate bialys!" was my response.
He claimed that bialys were the missing link between bagels and English muffins and that most people outside of New York hadn't yet discovered their deliciousness. I said they are a dead bread and that America has spoken loud and clear on the subject. Am I crazy? Do I have bialys all wrong?
It should be noted that I have been so busy scanning and printing of late that my blog posts have fallen off a bit. Sorry about that. I will post some new Halloween in Harlem images a little later today.
