All shook up

There’s a new home base for not eating out in New York: my new place in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. I don’t know if I could say this transition went less smoothly than the last time I moved, since I’ve had a working gas stove at my new residence since Day One. But it was a frantic one. Alright, so New York is essentially frantic, chaotic and crazy all the time, but it’s probably reflected in real estate matters more than anything else. One minute I looked at an apartment that I liked, the next minute I was feeding my application through fax machines at work, the next, I was signing a lease, then — to my shock — they expected me to begin the lease the very day after I signed it, catching my keys in the air as I left the office. But now that it’s all set and done, I’ve got a new home all to my own. And they can’t take that away from me.

I’ve also got a sweet vacation to attend this weekend, and some Internet fuss to take care of upon my return. So, if you’ll please excuse the absence of new posts for the next few days, I promise to make up for it with a killer kick-off recipe/ode to a new kitchen — and new outlook? — afterwards. Thanks!