I just had a delightful lunch at Les Halles, a wonderful little brasserie on Park Avenue South. I started with the onion soup, then had the Onglet a le chalote (the Angus beef hanger steak with a shallot sauce) and the homemade fries, along with a few glasses of an amusing little Sancerre - and then walked home. That's almost 70 blocks.
And I feel like I could walk back down there, have dessert and then walk home again.
My new regimen has got me bounding with energy. I wish I could share it here, but, of course, I can't take the chance my husky right-wing friend will learn it and drop some pounds.
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