Somethin' WRONG with Strippin'?

I knew that, with a busy weekend ahead, I wanted to rise and head into the Strip District this morning to get coffee and other provisions.  Instead of the tourist nightmare that it can so often become, one is reminded on a cold weekday morning of the reason we go to these old destinations:  They feel like how living in the city is supposed to be.

Beginning at La Prima Espresso, I ordered a large latte before walking through the portal wall into the bakeshop next door, Colangelo's.  Standing at the window counter, I enjoyed my coffee and cherry-filled pastry and watched as a fine snow began to gently land out of a bright blue sky.

I proceeded down Penn Avenue to the Pennsylvania Macaroni Company for figs, lemon curd, rosemary crackers, and blackcurrant jam.  At Stamoolis' next door, I bought their perfect muhammara.  After meditating on how much I liked the coffee I was drinking, I went back to La Prima to ask which blend I was drinking so that I could buy a pound to bring home and use in the Jura.  I welcomed a pound of their Ogni Giorno blend into our lives with great happiness.

From there, I stopped by Penzey's spices to buy a fresh bottle of Vietnamese Cinnamon, which is perhaps the only cinnamon worth buying if you're a baker.  At Prestogeorge, I bought two pounds of our favorite AA-grade Kenyan coffee and honey sticks for the tea I'm hosting next Friday.

I considered the possibilities at Wholey's of making their beautiful Alaskan Halibut for dinner, but decided to hold off.  I similarly left Lotus Foods, an Asian grocer, empty-handed.  A final stop at Leaf & Bean for cigars and I was back in the car, headed for home, via La Gourmandine, the wonderful French bakery on Butler Street.

This is what I've missed.  This taste of life - of what it's like to live in a city and surround oneself with it.  To be among people who are not overprivileged, pretentious, nouveau riche white North Hills assholes.

It's coming home with food that you will use to enrich your life and enliven your soul.

It's the sense of wonder as the snow falls.

It's life.

And I've really missed it these past months.