Sundays...

....are not much fun when you are forced to leave the comfort of your house to drive for four hours to Brooklyn.  I had to be in town for an early work meeting on Monday, and driving in Brooklyn made me realize how much of a "suburban" driver I am.

On the plus side, I did get to have dinner with Brooklyn-resident and good friend Camie, who gamely dragged herself to a restaurant despite the fact that she's recovering from the flu (supposedly not contagious anymore, as she assured me):

The poor girl wanted poutine but we walked straight out of the first restaurant we walked into, after Camie overheard the server saying that they were out of cheese curd. The nerve! So we settled for Sidecar, and their warm white bean dip with bacon, and the most delicious homemade tortilla chips, homemade regular chips and french fries. There may have been some other regular entrees thrown in there, but the fried goodness of all those sides is still sticking with me. Perhaps literally. :)

Browsing the Brooklyn Flea

After the fabulous breakfast at Bubby's, all we had to do was cross the street to reach the local farmer's market:


Immediately past the farmer's market was the path that would take us to the Brooklyn flea held directly under the Brooklyn Bridge. The cool part of the path was the fact that it even had a bit of shoreline - for some reason, I never associated urban NYC and Brooklyn with beaches!

Of course, this spot was perfect for photo ops - Andrew and Amanda:


Our brunch companions, Camie and James:

Me and Andrew with the Manhattan bridge in the background:

And to switch it up, with the Brooklyn bridge in the background!

One of the most interesting things we saw at the flea market - a huge pile of creepy pitchforks! What the heck would people be using these for? A mob crowd of townspeople conducting a witch hunt?

A shot that shows how the flea market is literally located beneath the Brooklyn bridge:

Brunch at Bubby's Under the Brooklyn Bridge

On Sunday, we headed to Camie and James' neck of the woods to have brunch at a place they recommended and described as being right by the Brooklyn Bridge.

Walking from the subway stop to Bubby's (which made me giggle because of the way the Real Housewives of NJ used this word), I knew we were in for a special treat when I could see views of the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges - this was my first time up close and personal to both:

In the restaurant, we were about to experience another incredible brunch. Camie ordered the Bubby's special (I think), which was your basic egg, breakfast meat, fruit and toast combo:

Amanda and Andrew ordered one of the specials, the Crab Benedict served over asparagus. In a nod to their mother's Southern heritage, both had grits on the side:


I caught James mid-chew with his chicken salad sandwich (along with his admirer, a baby in a stroller that could not keep her eyes off him):

I went with the very tasty hash special with an easy side up egg and fresh, gigantic pieces of wheat toast:

I swear, there wasn't a meal we had over the weekend that wasn't special in some way. Bubby's was an excellent choice and was located right next to the Brooklyn Flea, our next destination.

Brooklyn Cabbies suck

I was in Brooklyn for a company offsite meeting. As the Brooklyn Marriott is only a few miles away from where Camie and James live, of course we made plans to meet up.

The only hitch in the evening was how hard it was to catch a cab to Camie's place. The first cabbie that drove to her place was incredibly rude. As in, I opened the door and asked if he was available. Awkward silence. I ask the question again. He asks me where I'm going. I tell him Park Slope. More awkward silence. I ask if he can take me there. Awkward silence and then a mumble. I tell him that I'm sorry that I didn't hear him but can he take me? He brusquely tells me to get in.

At the end of the evening, Camie helps me catch a cab. I get in and ask him to take me to the Brooklyn Marriott. The cabbie asks me where that is in Brooklyn. Of course I have no idea and I tell him so. He tells me he's not from Brooklyn and can't take me since he doesn't know where it is. I get out of the cab and Camie's shocked. I tell her what just happened and she immediately is pissed at the cab driver and tells me we should write down his medallion number and report him, since NYC cabs are not allowed to turn down any fares. I tell her it's not worth the effort and instead, we use a car service. I get in and we're driving down the block and the driver asks me where I'm going (this is after we told him Brooklyn Marriott, he said ok, and went to get the car). I say Brooklyn Marriott and he asks me what street it's on. I'm thinking to myself, oh lord, not again. I call Camie and luckily, she answers, can't believe that he doesn't know where the Marriott is because, as she puts it, it's the only damn hotel in Brooklyn. She is able to look up the hotel on her iPhone. I give the driver the street name and he says, "Oh, the Marriott!" I apologize, telling him that maybe I didn't pronounce it the right way, and he says no, he didn't recognize it until I said the street. Crazy.

I know cabs are the way to go in NY but I just hate taking cabs in general. Yes, they can be convenient, but I feel like you are at the cab driver's mercy in terms of how he gets you there. I also feel that 9 out of 10 are rude and distrustful, and out to squeeze as much money as possible by tacking on extra charges when they don't think you're paying attention. Don't get me wrong, I have had some excellent conversations with some very nice cab drivers, but I think they suck most of the time!

The highlight of the night, other than drunkenly sampling chocolates from The Chocolate Room, was watching poor Freddie (who's been suffering from doggie diarrhea the past couple of days) plunk his butt down on the sidewalk every couple of steps to cool it off. As seen below. And yes, that is a Pumpkin Lover shirt he's wearing.