I dropped into the Jackson Heights market today, as it has been since Christmas since the people of Queens were gifted the presence of the best maple in the business. So despite me feeling shitty, I stood there, and sold the syrup and made everyone happy. Ha?

I was very happy to see my friends Jassenia, Siobhan, Carolyn, Dj and Allison. That market is so terribly slow sometimes–we are open from 8am to 3pm, which means we get there at 7am, and you do 90% of the business between 10:30 and 12noon–and I am ever grateful to my friends from up there who come to chat, visit, offer cups of steamy tea or a snack. Only missing were Lisa, who was MIA, and John, who is in Columbia visiting coffee farms or something like that.

I also got to hear all about young Henry’s trip to Kennedy Space Center, where he saw the mighty massive Saturn 5 rocket, the Mission Control, and then place where they do all the countdowns from ten.

The tamales there are light years beyond any I’ve ever had, sold by a family who sets up shop right outside the bounds of the market, on the opposite sidewalk. Pork tamale with lots of hot sauce, perfect breakfast. I need someone to teach me how to get that super light, delicate texture. I am pretty sure it’s the super commercial lard they must use–I’ve only used duck fat–a simple Google would fix this but I’d rather have someone show me.

Kip made beef lasagna with pine nuts for dinner.

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