
Our friend Dean, who is a naturalist, tells us that this is a carnivorous flower, beautiful but deadly for insects, which are lured by the lovely scent and then are trapped inside the petals.
I was doing research for a food article when I stumbled across Dunkin Donut's latest contest. (Really! It's true. I only hang out at their store by the drive up window.) The winner of the Next Donut Contest wins $12,000 and the chance to have his/her donut produced as a limited edition. Twelve runners-up earn $1,200, a year's worth of donuts, and a trip for 2 to Braintree, MA to attend the Dunkin Donuts University bake off, when the winning creation is baked and tasted before a live audience. It couldn't be easier. All the ingredients are illustrated on their website and you just click to design yours, including filling, frosting, and topping. Mine is a cherry pie donut--Why not? I love cherry pie. What's yours going to be?
Try it at:
Dunkin Donuts
I love the sense of community in the city. If this strikes you as odd, here are some examples from our visit to New York this winter:
Scene 1:
R and I are getting on the elevator in a friend's building with at least 200 tenants. We're heading up to their apartment. A woman we don't know is already in the elevator waiting for the doors to close.
R says to me: "What floor do they live on?"
Me: "Four. I think. Or maybe 5?"
R: "It's 4." (He pushes the button.)
Woman in elevator: "Who are you going to see?"
Me: "The Levy's"
Woman: "Ann and Henry? 4-I. So they're back from Florida?"
R: "No they're still down there."
Scene 2: Same building, several days later.
Mrs. so-and-so is moving out. R and a tenant in the building see moving men carrying furniture out of the elevator and into a truck. He tells R: "5-J is moving out. It's taking all day. Four rooms of furniture in 3 rooms."
The same day. A different neighbor tells Alex in the laundry room:
"Apt 5-J is moving out. You wouldn't believe all the furniture. Four rooms of furniture in 3 rooms."
Scene 3:
Alex and I take the Long Island Railroad from Great Neck to B & H Photo in Manhattan. Now remember. This train transports millions of passengers every day. We're in B & H for a few hours when a man comes up to us.
Man: "You were on the train, weren't you? I recognized you."
Me: (puzzled, searching my memory and coming up with a vague recollection) "Oh, yes, that's right. I remember now."
Man: "Funny, isn't it? We both end up here."
Me gesturing at the store: "Yes. This is a great place, isn't it?"
Man: Nods.
Me: "So where are we going next?"
On the streets and in the subways this winter in New York City, I picked up a lot of impressions and filed them away in notebooks or on camera. This time, it was lips.
This needs some explanation. In the gym, I'd see her working out. She was trim, athletic...her blonde hair caught up in a pony tail, swaying as she lifted weights. From the back, her taut muscles, trim waist and lean legs indicated she was in her 20's or 30's. But then, the moment of truth... She'd whirl around, dumb bells in hand, and I'd see her blooming botoxed lips in a face as rigid as a mask. Well, I'd think, she's half mummified already in her pursuit of eternal youth.