The Pipes of Harlem

Abby and I took a Sabbath this weekend, from absolutely everything. It's a stripped-down idea - we simply spent the whole weekend together without an agenda. No working, no household chores, no social plans, just following our fancies to the end of the avenue.

Yesterday we did hot yoga, ate breakfast at our favorite bougie bakery, checked out the St. Patty's Day Parade (until we got sick of watching cops hugging), sat around in the sun, made stuffed cabbage and cocktails, watched Constellation, slept early.

Today was more of the same energy - yoga, homemade bacon/egg/cheese and cold brew, now we're lounging with our cuddlecat, doing non-draining computer stuff (shopping, reading good things, writing The Haul).

Unlike this dodo I have no delusions that Abby and I invented Sabbath Weekend, or that it's some big, unique revelation. We simply wanted some concentrated 1-on-1 time, to recharge individually and together. Highly recommended — if you can carve out the space. We tried to set this up for months!

Time for a nap.

xo,

Jesse

Scraggly guy with a foot brace, runs into a woman he knows. She asks what happened to his foot.

"I was running late at the train station and I tripped. Twisted my ankle!"

Then he leans in close:

"I tried to throw myself down the escalator afterward, so I could sue the city, but I couldn't do it right."

Getting quesadillas with my new pal Darby the other night, I mentioned how I like to have a fresh can of seltzer in hand when I board a city bus. "It gives me confidence, you know? A bit of swagger. I picture all the other passengers thinking 'Look at that guy!'"

Later, after I had mentioned seltzer one too many times for a normal person, Darby delicately asked if I was sober. It hadn't occurred to me that my level of seltz passion is typical of someone in recovery.

After dinner we got cocktails. After that? More seltzer.

Technically this hot tamale was just parked near the store — there's no reason to believe it delivered surplus groceries. I simply needed to share the glory with you.

My coworker Dylan and I did a hot dog exchange that required a Google Calendar reminder. On the right is a surplus grocer purchase, one of New York's finest brands. On the left is a pink-hued Filipino dog I haven't tried yet.

Nathan's hot dogs typically go for $8 a package (!), so Dylan got a premium-but-common product. I, on the other hand, get to sample a new global wiener. Legend has it that Mister Swifts are lightly sweet - I'm gonna make spaghetti!

Typically the store only gets big bags of uncooked shrimp, 5 pounds or bigger. These are unwieldy, and require more freezer space than we ever have. Thus we were very jazzed to find these semi-flat 11-oz packages, perfect for skinny freezer nooks. Abby dubbed them the Book of Shrimp.

I feel like the point of ground turkey is to swap in a leaner meat than beef or pork. Adding bacon and cheese kind of defeats the purpose, no? (Asks the guy who bought this item.)

Turkish wheat chips! Spot the funny one.

"Tattooed Chef" lol. I had to convince Abby these were worth buying — as a die-hard pepperoni fan, plant based peps did not appeal. Artisanal branding won the day, though. We've eaten one pie out of this two-pack and I still don't know if I liked it or not.

Let's move on.