This one time on the A train.
I have been exercising my right to leave my phone at home. Initially it was a relief. No social media, music, calls or texts, just myself and the surrounding world. There was a realization that any comments, emails or messages could be dealt with on my own time. I’m taking back the power by disconnecting. If I’ve made time sensitive plans, I will carry the phone with me in case something happens. Overall, I love NOT having my phone with me. Recently though, it has been harder to leave the phone at home.
It was Pride weekend and the streets were vibrant with flags and rainbow colored socks. For a Sunday, the city was pretty busy. My friend and I decided to see “No Hard Feelings,” the new Jennifer Lawrence film (very funny). After the movie, my friend and I departed. I took the A train back to Brooklyn from the AMC at Times Square. Let’s make something clear, though I live in Brooklyn, showtimes can be limiting. I would also like to state that one of my favorite places to see movies is Film at Lincoln Center in the Upper West Side. So traveling far to see one movie is not an alien concept for me. As the train approached the Port Authority station I was blessed because it was nearly empty. When we approached 14th street, before the doors opened, you could hear a cacophony of shrill voices.
The doors opened and the car was flooded with people drinking florescent colored beverages, pride merchandise and one white girl who looked like she just came from Lilith Fair. I had more questions than answers. Was anyone who just boarded gay? Not like that matters, but it wasn’t until we made it to Brooklyn where I noticed a gay person on the train. The crowd somehow mastered a game of musical chairs at the Chambers street stop. There was a chant that broke out in the tunnel after Fulton. The mantra was sang by a group of women, “we call him Daddy now.” Then, one woman from singing group had accused another woman on the train of stealing something that was in a black bodega bag where she sat previously (pre musical chairs). She yelled at her, “sell my shit, make that paper, she’s got two for five dollars.” She went on further, “she’s got one for three or two for five.” By the way, nobody knows what the hell was even being sold.
At Jay St/Metro Tech a there was a mini gay reunion. The vibe was that they all knew each other from the South from years ago and NYC Pride was reconnecting them. They arranged a small photoshoot in the middle of the train. They posed, landed their angles, however they weren’t prepared for the old A train to buck mid photoshoot. The group almost fell onto each other and began recounting the images they captured. I overheard them say, “it’s giving fallen,” “I’m in my tumble era,” “girl, slay all the way down.” Just after Hoyt-Schermerhorn a woman sitting next to me reading her Kindle politely passed out on my shoulder. I only know this to be true because I looked down and her eyes were closed. Her head and partial body weight fully rested on me. For a brief moment I wondered if she knew me. I was praying the train wasn’t going to be making local stops. Luckily my stop, Nostrand, was next.
I exited the train, smiled a little bit and thought how entertaining that all was. I’ve had people fall asleep on me before. I’m actually never annoyed. This man fell asleep on me while taking the bus and I let him because I genuinely felt like he needed the nap. As I left the station, the humidity seeped its way into my nostrils with the typical New York summer potpourri; hints of urine, body odor and decaying trash. The scent is signature to New York. In retrospect, I’m grateful I left my phone at home. I would have missed all of action right in front of me. During my walk home, I felt lucky to have this life. I don’t take any of this for granted because you only get to have experiences like this when you relinquish control and surrender yourself to being a New Yorker.
Black Olive Shortbread with Rosemary Sugar
The starting place for this recipe is rooted in a famed coffee shop located in the East Village of New York City. Abraço is a café that had humble beginnings. It’s first location was almost unnoticed. What used to be a sliver of a coffee shop is now a loiter worthy location for efficient espresso and approachable nibbles. They have always offered a cured olive cookie that is an “Old Faithful.” The cookie is thin, unassuming, and looks closer to a fragment of terroir than an actual cookie.
Having had this confection multiple times I truly forgot what a profound treat it is. It is basically a shortbread that has been carefully dotted with cured olives. The texture is sandy in the best way. It’s slightly sweet allowing the cured olive bits to shine. When you get the right bite the natural fruitiness of the olive comes forward. Revisiting this cookie inspired me to give it my own spin. I have a good ratio for making shortbread and I wanted to plug in the amp and turn up the volume with these cookies. I’ve humbly unlocked their hidden potential. The recipe begins with rubbing the sugars with lemon zest for brightness. Then folding in just the right amount of torn cured black olives. The dough is chilled for two hours, then brushed lightly in egg wash following a bejeweled coat of demerara sugar with rosemary. My version sublimely teeters the line of sweet and savory. Black Olive Shortbread with Rosemary Sugar pays its respects to its inspirational beginnings but takes a new step in a positive direction.
Makes 30-32 shortbreads
Ingredients:
100g granulated sugar
50g dark brown sugar
1 lemon, zested
250g unsalted butter, softened, at room temperature
pinch of kosher salt (diamond crystal)
350g all purpose flour
100g oil cured black olives, pitted and torn
1 large egg, beaten
4 springs of rosemary, finely chopped
100g demerara or turbinado sugar
Method:
Line a 9”X9” baking pan with parchment paper.
Add both your sugars to a large bowl with lemon zest. Rub the zest into the sugar releasing the fragrance. Add you butter to the bowl and whisk vigorously until the mixture is light, fluffy and the sugar has mostly dissolved about 5-7 minutes.
Gently fold the flour and salt with a spatula into the butter and sugar mixture. When the mass begins to look shaggy fold in the olives. Do a few light turns until the flour becomes hydrated. Spread this mixture evenly into the prepared baking pan and chill in the refrigerator for at least two hours. If longer, please wrap the dough in cling film. *The dough can be frozen up to two weeks, allow to temper to refrigerator temperature before proceeding with the following steps.
Preheat oven to 350ºF. Place a rack in the center of the oven.
Add the egg to a plate or small baking tray large enough to fit half the mass of the shortbread dough. Rub the rosemary into the demerara sugar until fragrant. Place the rosemary sugar on a similarly sized plate or tray for coating post egg wash.
Remove dough straight from the refrigerator. Slice the dough in half with a knife. Using a pastry brush coat the exterior of one half of the dough with the egg wash. Immediately start coating the dough in the rosemary sugar. Set the coated dough aside and repeat steps for the remaining piece of dough.
Line a half sheet baking tray with parchment paper. Slice the shortbreads crosswise in 1/4” to 1/2” thick pieces. Spread 15 of the shortbreads evenly two inches apart. They will not spread much but they do need some grace. Bake for 12-15 minutes until lightly golden. Repeat for the remaining shortbreads.
Allow to cool completely before feasting. These shortbreads will keep at room temperature up to one week in a sealed container. Have them with some coffee, tea or my ideal pairing long-hand journaling and to-do lists.