Thanks, Laurenn, for forwarding this article on how the owner of Curves, the fitness chain geared toward women, "has given at least $5 million of his profits to some of the most militant anti-abortion groups in the country."

Read the article here.

Yeah, screw you, Delphi. I don't need you anyway.

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So I was sitting downstairs getting ready to eat a cup of yummy red lentil soup and this asparagus, blue cheese and grape tomato salad:

When I noticed that the little red thing I thought was some sort of wayward pomegranate seed, was actually this:

Yep.  That's a ladybug.  Needless to say, I didn't eat the salad after that.

This was a couple of days ago, and I keep forgetting to post it... but I saw a man walking in my building carrying a jar of Dreamland BBQ Sauce.

Mmmmmmmm Dreamland...

Dietsch and I did our inaugural “slow street food” tour of the LES/Chinatown/Little Italy neighborhoods yesterday afternoon, and despite the damp, dreary weather, I think it was a great success. The neighborhoods we walked through are among my favorites in the city… they’re such a blend of new and old, a riot of color and culture, and you just never know what you’ll see there. It makes for a great walk.

We started at Delancey Street and, using our copy of the Slow Food Guide to New York City to help us plan our strategy, we walked over to Fried Dumpling for just that… fried dumplings. It’s a tiny storefront, and the line stretched the entire length of the shop, but once we opened the door and inhaled the scent of those dumplings, we just had to stay and try them for ourselves. The line moved quickly, and we soon placed our order: each of us got five pan-fried dumplings, perfectly crisp on the outside, with a steaming mixture of ground pork, scallions, and broth inside – total damage: two bucks. We took our containers out onto the street and ate as we walked, enjoying every delicious bite.

We headed back toward the LES side of the street, and ended up on Orchard and Broome, where we sort of mistakenly happened upon Guss’ Pickles. It was a happy accident, and for a buck, we enjoyed a pickle each – mine sour, his spicy. And they tasted exactly how pickles should taste.