It's only a slight exaggeration to describe my life as being composed of two halves: jetlag and recovering from jetlag. I have different formulas depending upon the direction. From Paris to Brooklyn: no sleep on the flight, stay up late, up early the next day, get out of the apartment and stay away until nightfall. Today was that "next day" so I went deep into Brooklyn to a neighborhood called Gravesend and had some Ukranian food at Slavyanskiy Bazar. It's a food that I want to like but it never cooperates.
