A few weeks ago, I met up with my friend D to have some dinner. We had originally planned to go to a floral wreath-making class but they cancelled it due to lack of interest; boo. Since I'd already mentally scheduled that Tuesday evening as a night out anyway, I decided I would still make the trek into the city (a v. easy one via train) so we could spend some time together and do what we do best: eat and gossip.
When the train pulled into Penn Station, I texted D and we met on the corner. We then walked the dozen or so blocks downtown to the Chelsea location of Socarrat. The restaurant was basically empty except for a happy, vivacious table in the window and one couple seated in the back. The host led us to our spot and we perused the menu. We were warned that the paella takes half an hour to cook so we decided to get some tapas - actually, just one tapa - to tide us over.
Doughnut Plant was just a few blocks over, we decided to skip dessert at Socarrat and get some donuts and coffee instead.
It was a v. enjoyable evening spent gabbing with a wonderful friend. There were all these calls for rain but we didn't see a drop, which added to the perfection of the night.
I live so close to the city but I've gotten so lazy and introverted, it's mentally a big deal for me to go; I need to remedy that.