Yesterday I and Big Chrissy dejeunered with Davide at Gobo, a very veggie eatery on 6th Avenue. Davide’s looking great, with the coolest glasses, but I wish his strict fashion sense would expand to include something warmer for this weather. I shivered looking at him in his handsomely tailored feather-weight overshirt—that is, looking at him through my scarf- and muff-wrapped head. We saw the Coens’ True Grit after lunch, a perfect Christmas family retribution film. I think I enjoyed their version more than the Henry Hathaway version, although Kim Darby still holds a special tiny place in my heart.
After the film, we walked over to Vaselka’s, in the lower east side. BC and I had a traditional Ukranian Christmas eve dinner—12 courses, one for each apostle. By the time I got to Thaddeus and Bartholomew, my tummy was singing a Ukranian folk hymn of blessed contentment.