I Love Donuts ... But Not From New York

Pizza. Cupcakes. Cuisines from around the world. New York City offers an astounding amount and variety of some of the best food available anywhere.

Yet it can't make a good donut.

Admittedly, I haven't done tons of research on this. I would if I could. It's actually difficult to find a non-chain donut around here, although Tim Horton's and especially Dunkin' Donuts seem to be as ubiquitous as Starbucks.

But Tim Horton's and Dunkin' Donuts are least-common-denominator donuts. In other words, they suck. They're dry when they're not soggy, and Betty Crocker makes better frosting.

Just because I don't prefer them, however, doesn't mean I won't eat them. It took three or four tries before determining that the coconut-topped donut and chocolate donut holes from Dunkin' Donuts are OK. And don't get me wrong-- all of their donuts are edible when someone else brings them to work to share.

But when I crave a donut, my thoughts still revert to Ohio. Buckeye Donuts. Schuler's. Frosting and filling so sugary and rich that I can practically hear the cavities forming.

Mmmmm.

Pirates in Bay Ridge?

Sidewalk "art" near the Shore Road Promenade, Bay Ridge:

Left of skull: I Pillage Ye Booty
Right: Your Arse Be Kicked

Enough said.

Kitchen Supplies: From Closet to Hole in the Ceiling

The hole in our kitchen ceiling earlier this year.

In Ohio I had a closet dedicated to kitchen supplies.

The spare room closet was filled not with clothes, but with a wok, bamboo steamer, and various pots and pans.

I don't have that luxury in New York. Heck, I don't even have a closet in our bedroom.

So the kitchen supplies go anywhere they fit. The cabinets are full-to-overflowing, and we store the colanders, saute pans, and even the wok and bamboo steamer in the space above the cabinets, a couple of feet below the ceiling. Luckily Paul and I are both tall.

In June you might remember my passing reference to a giant hole in the kitchen that appeared when Paul and I returned from a long weekend in Defiance. To make matters worse, the hole was stuffed with our frequently-used kitchen supplies.

Long story short, the landlord cut the hole because of some water issues in the apartment above us, blocked the hole with the kitchen stuff so our cats would stay away, and planned to fix it before we came back. Unfortunately, we came back a day earlier than he expected.

Obviously we (OK, Paul) washed the pots and pans before we (OK, still Paul) cooked with them again. But it wouldn't have happened if we still had our closet full of kitchen supplies. Or if the landlord had -- revelation of revelations -- a bag to cover the hole.

And if I still had the closet, I would definitely have a waffle maker by now. I do have a griddle dedicated only to pancakes and french toast, stuffed into a place of honor in the linen closet. But the waffle maker will have to wait.

All fixed, but still not painted.