I awoke early today, but for a change I was able to fall back asleep again until after eight. The Handler family had plans to have breakfast together this morning. We had already bought the bagels yesterday. We needed eggs and fruit to round out the meal.
After a quick shower, I headed out in search of a place to buy fruit. Flatbush, the main street in this area was swarming with police and barriers were being set up at the corners of each of the east west streets. There was to be a street fair and preparations for it were underway. The constant sounds that I was hearing during my search for a good fruit stand were sirens. At first I thought it the police cars traveling through the area had their sirens on, but I realized this was not the case when one drove by me. There were no lights and there was no sound other than the engine.
After walking several blocks, I realized where the sound was coming from. In order to accommodate sidewalk sales, all parked cars had to be removed. I'm sure notices regarding the prohibition of parking had been posted. However, the east side of the street was fully parked and a small fleet of NYPD tow trucks were systematically hooking up and towing away all the offending vehicles. And the sounds I heard? The car alarms being set off during the process.
It was already past nine and only a few vendors were setting up canopies under which to display their wares. On the sidewalks were all manner of containers full of the merchandise for the day. Some were in plastic containers, but others were in open bins and plastic bags and were easily identified.. One group of people had dozens of woven baskets, many stacked inside of each other. Beautiful colourful designs were woven the into bodies of the baskets. Another group had American flags, beach umbrellas, flotation tubes and other beach paraphernalia waiting to be organized. There were racks of clothing, food vans creating outdoor cafe areas and children's riding toys in yet other areas. And there were police officers everywhere, turning drivers away from the area, ticketing cars, drinking coffee and chatting with those busily setting up.
I was loathe to go into a supermarket, but the fruit at the first few stands I passed all looked like high end store rejects. With persistence, I finally was able to pick out a pineapple, not too over ripe, a melon that didn't look like it had been used as a basketball and some organic strawberries and blueberries. I arrived at the apartment just as Dov was leaving to buy the eggs. I joined him and went to the supermarket across the street from his place. I could have saved myself a lot of walking had I known that this store had a wide variety of certified organic produce and groceries. But then again, I would have missed the show of chaotic preparations for the fair. If you are observant, there are all variety of frees shows waiting to be watched.
I loved that it was important enough to everyone to get together one more time during our visit. What the food was really didn't matter, but the bonus was that everything worked out perfectly. The bagels had been heated in the oven and everyone agreed that they were the best bagels they had had. Instead of omelets, Dov prepared egg salad that was not prepared in the usual way. Instead of mayonnaise, Dov used olive oil and a gourmet mustard. Instead of green onions or chives, there were succulent scallions bought at the farmers market. The coffee was strong and delicious. The fruit salad provided the sweetness. It was all easy to serve and comfortable to eat without a table to sit at. No one was in a hurry to leave and the atmosphere was warm and friendly. Unfortunately, the apartment was also warm. We were in for another, hot and sunny summer day.
When the Handlers left, they were on their way to Brighton Beach and Little Odessa. Arthur was looking forward to a glimpse of Russia in North America and a restaurant named My Mother- in-law's Food. The kids walked their company to the subway on the way to the park with the dog and I returned to my room to sit in front of the fan have a rest. I had walked more than enough the day before and I don't think there were any new corners of Prospect Park for me to discover.
After Kaya had had enough exercise, the kids cleaned up the remnants of breakfast and we set out for the Brooklyn Museum. Dov and Marissa went by bike. I made use of my unlimited seven day metro pass and met up in front of the museum. On the street in front of us, there was a Chabadnik, looking for Jewish men to lay tefillen. It was difficult to explain what this was to Marissa, so Dov approached the man to go through the ceremony while we watched. He was there because it was Rosh Chodesh. After the Chabadnik helped Dov with both the tefillen and the prayers, he asked this man if he knew the Chicago Chabad rabbi. What a small world! The rabbi was in New York and had visited with this Chabadnik earlier in the day.
Now we focused on the Museum. It is a beautiful large white classical building that had been modernized with a glass atrium and a series of metal steps and platforms around the front. It is well set back from the street and traffic and rises behind a plaza meant for people to enjoy, benches under shade trees and another tiered seating area with grass steps between the tiers. The glass entrance is naturally illuminated and has a display of Rodin statues to greet the visitors. And here is the bonus, there was an Ai Wei Wei exhibit!
The exhibit had only some of the pieces that were in the Toronto exhibition, but there were many more photographs taken in Beijing and in New York, more documentaries produced by the artist and several more recent installations that emphasized the confluence of visual arts, social justice and the protection of human rights. Especially moving was a serpent built out of the backpacks of some of the children who died when the school collapsed after an earthquake and the reconstruction of the belongings of a fellow dissident who was kidnapped from her home and deposited along with the packed and unpacked personal items on the side of the road, miles from any city.
This museum also had a Judy Chicago exhibit with pieces spanning her entire career, beautifully detailed plaster slabs from some ruler's abandoned palace in ancient Mesopotamia and recreations of nineteenth century homes complete with furnishings and accessories. I definitely will be returning to this museum to see more of its treasures. Although the building was far from empty, there were many fewer visitors than you see in the Manhattan venues. Seeing the works without crowds pressing around you and the constant crescendo of voices allowed us to better appreciate what we were seeing. It was difficult to leave and we were among the last of the visitors to leave.
It was well after six and all of us were hungry. Dov offered to cook dinner for us at home, but I insisted on going out. I would like to make this visit a bit of a holiday for the kids as well. Eating out and shows are rarely part of their usual routine. There were a number of restaurants just a block from the Museum. Dov led us to Corvo's. The food was both different and delicious, spinach gnocchi, farro salad, a pasta with swiss chard mushroom and a lemony sauce, beets with a dollop of sour cream, deep fried chick peas and another Leafy sald with an unusual but tasty piquant dressing. The back of the building housed a garden area, roofed, but not enclosed that was both bright and airy. We were allowed to linger and all three of us ate laughed relaxed and enjoyed one another's company.
I managed to find my way back by subway without getting lost, my feet were not screaming at me, and we spent a low key evening getting to know learn more about each other before I returned to my room for the evening.
Tomorrow, I'd like to make my way to Coney Island. I was only nine or ten the last time I was there. My memories of the beach are not pleasant, as no one thought about the effects of sun on a fair skinned child and I usually left the beach lobster red and sand chafed. I am curious about the beach today.
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