I'm outside Chelsea Market right now, smelling sewer and fish. This was not the Sunday I had wanted to spend with my chef. Only minutes ago we were driving through the Holland Tunnel when he got a call from Perry St and my heart palpatated. Something about the driver being late because of pastries and the kitchen needing their order from Lobster Place ASAP. So my chef is now a delivery guy and my corolla is soon going to be a fish delivery car. Yuck! This is annoying to say the least. I would walk over to the tv news crew outside of Del Posto to snoop but I'm totally parked illegally. Anyone know what that's about anyway?
How ironic that we were on our way to sushi too.
-Hilary via iPhone
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