This afternoon the angelic are off to the kennels. We keep on telling ourselves that Bob and Sophie will enjoy the chance to meet other dogs. Like all empty nesters we secretly don't believe a word of it. Hiding a trip to the k-e-n-n-e-l-s is rather akin to hiding a trip to the hospital for a tonsillectomy from an eight year old.
This mornings croissant ranks a 9.6/10. Golden, crispy crusted and a hint of butteriness to the dough. Bob and Sophie would probably agree but they've wolfed their croissant ends down so I'm not sure how much they actually tasted. Bob makes that peculiar snorting noise that PONs do when they're suffering from a happiness overdose.
The baker seems to have had a brain storm. Pear and Chocolate Tart vying with Tarte Exotique in the refrigerated cabinet. On closer inspection the Tarte Exotique looks as though someone has emptied a can of fruit salad over it.
Time to make dinner reservations. Angus chooses an old faithful in NYC based on the fact that we always go there and it has milk and cookies as a dessert option. The young lady on the other end of the phone informs him that they have moved to a prix fixe menu where everything is included. Angus is left unsure as to whether the price includes the tip or not. If it does include the tip should you leave something extra as well ? The social minefield of American dining. https://www.gramercytavern.com/menu/dining-room-dinner/