Weekend report: I only had one plan over the weekend and that was to go on an adventure into Brooklyn and pick up some fabric scraps. Now, I’ve done this before — the freebie fabric pick up, that is. The first time was somewhere in the Flatiron district which was closer, and I had come carrying a bag although it turned out to be the wrong one to lug around once it was full of fabric. Lesson learned: a roller luggage would be best. This time, I came prepared.
Second lesson learned from my first foray into grabbing freebies is one must not underestimate what is available for the taking. The girl scout in me whispered I should bring an extra tote just in case there was more fabric than I could fit into my trusty roller. (And there was more!) I’ll write about my haul another time but anything to do with Brooklyn is an adventure for me. This coming from someone who has lived and breathed NYC the last 15 years! Ha!
I got there — remembering to avoid Flushing due to the Chinese New Year. (Newsflash: They do dragon dances there and there ARE street closures for this all important Chinese holiday.. ) Had to go by bus and then subway all the way, transferring through no less than 3 lines. Q88, R, 7 and the G. I made it.
Once there, that was another story, though. I almost thought about calling frantically for help from a friend who lives in Brooklyn but I found my destination before I could start panicking. Before I could even find the place where I was picking up fabric from, I found DOUGH. Nope, I didn’t find any moolah — I found the one that makes your tummy happy and makes you want to die in a sugar coma. But I had to pick up my fabric scraps first! (I was intent on accomplishing my main mission before embarking on any other side trips.)
I’m always the first to admit that I am geographically challenged in unfamiliar places. Show me a map and give me a minute or two to orient myself — but please don’t talk to me about North, South, East or West. I’m a very visual person.
Found my benefactor, stashed my haul into my bag and my tote, and with a white garbage bag full of what looked like clothes visible in the open bag and the other hand pulling a roller luggage, I must’ve looked like I had either just come from the laundromat or I was one of those better dressed and well-kempt homeless people. I didn’t really care. I wanted my donuts!
DONUT forsake me, my sweet tooth begged. it wasn’t a very big place, really. Yet with the sun setting and the place lit up from within, it was obvious there was a line snaking inside. Now where would I leave my stash? I pushed the roller bag under one of the benches outside, knowing (and hoping) no one would take such a bulky item. Then I took my place in line and waited patiently.
I first discovered Dough many moons ago in the winter village in Bryant Park. They had taken one of the booths during the holiday fair, and I was a customer almost every day, sampling their artisanal donuts. Dulce de leche, Cafe Au Lait, Cheesecake, Lemon Poppyseed. It was the treat you would gladly give up lunch for, and Sunday night’s dinner was going to be donuts!
I would have bought 4 or 6 but really had no more room in my tote bursting with the third bag of fabric scraps, and my roller luggage looked like I was going on a long trip with at least a month’s worth of clothes. So I had to make a tough choice — I could only carry two. Sigh. My heart broke. The cheesecake was a given. If I had one choice of a donut from this place, I would choose the cheesecake donut without batting an eyelash. The Dulce De Leche with its almond slivers was beckoning me seductively like it always did. And I knew resistance was futile, but there was the irresistible Salted Chocolate Caramel, with its chocolate glaze oozing down its voluptuous dome. .
I inched my way forward and heard everyone ordering hibiscus. Hmmmm… I was ALMOST tempted, but with one slot taken by the cheesecake I am always faithful to, the hibiscus would just have to wait for another time and day when I could actually maybe carry a box of 6 or a dozen even. (Maybe if I get to visit their branch in the Flatiron district.) Alas, “caramel” is always a sure winner in my book. I had to sacrifice the Dulce De Leche.
I paid for my haul and grabbed my roller luggage (which was still there) and set out to plan my trip back home. I had to improvise with my load — I could not possibly lug everything in reverse. In the midst of it all, I had tried texting my friend but my phone was not sending the message. Silly me, I decided to reboot forgetting I had reset my code, and which of course, I couldn’t remember.Thanks to technology I was saved! Imagine no phone and no apps in a strange place.. In time I made it back to my old stomping grounds and got on the bus home– fabric scraps, donuts and all..