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Distance Running

This past Sunday was the annual NYC Marathon, and being that the marathon route passes about 2 blocks from our apartment, Meeks and I decided to hop on the G train and travel south to Bed-stuy to watch it there.  To our credit, we were enticed out of our comfort zone by our friends Tim & Jen, who promised us homemade breakfast and bloody marys.  They didn't dissapoint either - they even met us at the subway with fresh-from-the-oven cranberry walnut scones.

 We got a good spot for viewing the runners, just about at the 15K marker, right where all of the runners make a turn onto Bedford Avenue. 

 Watching this stuff always makes me want to run the marathon too.  But then I remember that I actually don't want to run a marathon at all.  I just want to watch other people run one, while talking loudly to anybody who will listen about how much I want to run a marathon.

 Mike doesn't really want to run one either.  Do you know what the hardest part about the marathon is? Clapping.  Seriously.  I clapped, cheered, and threw two-handed waves for about an hour straight.  My arms were like dead weights by the end of it.

 You can't see it well, but down the street on the left side is the coffee shop that we desperately wanted to get coffee from.  Unfortunately, none of us wanted to risk being stampeded to death.  Especially not with the race being televised.  How embarrassing would that be?

We did end up seeing the Chilean miner guy go by, but that was the only pseudo-celebrity we saw.  We also saw a Superman, a rhino, an orange spandex guy, and a giant banana.  The stars of the show though, apparantly, were the NYFD.  They had parked their big truck thingy at the end of the street right in front of where the marathon route turned north, and so many of the runners would pause and take pictures of them, or wave at them or salute or whatnot.  It was very curious.

The Return of the Great Pumpkin (Empanada)

It's officially 100% Fall here in the city (and elsewhere as well, I suspect), and that means Empanada Time in the Slagle Household.  I know a lot of you out there may be more familiar with the meat or cheese filled fried empanadas that can be found being peddled down on Havemeyer Street in the late evenings, or in McCarren Park on most Saturday afternoons.  But, for me, there is only pumpkin empandas.  Flaky, sweet and spicy baked pumpkin empanadas!  I've made (and devoured) two batches so far, and during the first batch I got so tired of rolling out dough that in an act of frustration I decided to just use the remaining dough to make one giant empanada - much to Mike's delight.

 Here is Mike with the Great Pumpkin Empanada.  It actually turned out pretty good.  Just like a normal empanada, but much bigger.

 Here is the Great Empanada next to the puny normal (but equally tasty) ones.

Not an empanada-related photo, but a nice one nonetheless.  I took this up on Park Ave during my lunch break the other day.  I believe that is the old Metropolitan Life building on the right, with the U.S., New York State, and New York City flags a-flyin'.

This was taken last Thursday in Flatiron, en route to visit the galleries in Chelsea.  I thought the ESB looked quite eerie in its glowing green state.  It reminded me of Ghostbusters or something.

And lastly, Friday night at Esperanto in the East Village with my lady-friends.  And yes, that is my polka-dotted decolletage on the upper-right.  And yes, we were drinking some sort of passion-fruit concoction out of teensy fairy-sized copas. 
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