Sunday morning, sunny and cold. I drove uptown to feed my friend's cat, and on the way I bought a cup of coffee and listened to NPR. I learned that Whitney Houston had died, and surprised myself by shedding a few tears. I normally don't get worked up over celebrity news of any kind, but the death of someone so young and so talented really got under my skin. It was very sad.
When I got home, we walked around the corner to one of my favorite places in the city, Lula Cafe. It's always been a charming space, but they've recently expanded into the space next door, and I love how bright and open it is. We sat at the bar and ordered our brunch - pancakes and bacon for him, and an omelet and tea for me. I ordered the omelet because when I read the description (goose confit, red wine cherries, whipped foie butter, capers, raclette, brioche), I could not for the life of me imagine what it would taste like. Now I can, and I'm so glad.