NoriCross BunWich and the Step Ladder

Purple Yam's Nori-Cross Bun w/Red Wattle Ham, Mozzarella,
Banana Plum Ketchup & Duck Egg Salad
(photo by Romy Dorotan)

What a week. A mix of BAD and not THAT bad assuaged by intermittent smidgens of good ole fashioned luck. I decided not to go to a cousin’s Easter gathering in Long Island, instead I planned to nudge my apartment closer to post surgical readiness, then treat myself to a meal at Purple Yam. 

A few days earlier, Romy and I commiserated about how to incorporate Easter bread into the day's special menu. Hot Cross buns, Paska, Babka, all sweet and buttery yeast breads, some braided, some with colorful Easter eggs baked inside, most studded with nuts and dried fruits. He decided to concoct hot cross bun sliders and serve them filled with the always delicious heritage Red Wattle ham he featured every Easter. Ummm...was looking forward to seeing and tasting his final creation.

Easter morning, in lieu of a basket filled with chicks, colored eggs, and/or chocolate bunnies, I discovered a mouse snagged in a snap trap replete with a bloody trail. Barely able to look at it, I valiantly attempted to banish the image from my mind, figuring I'd deal with it when I was good and ready, which admittedly, wouldn't be anytime soon.

An hour or so after that, in full-steam-ahead cleaning mode, I stepped onto and promptly flew off of my step ladder just as I was about to tackle dusting the living room ceiling fan. Lucky me! I landed mostly on my butt (à la George Mamary), shocked to discover myself sprawled on the floor, disheveled, step ladder askew, duster in hand, and mouth agape. After ascertaining I could still (barely) move my appendages I pulled myself up. Omigod…OUCH! now, my knee was the LEAST painful part of my body!

I took a bunch of pain meds and shouldered on, albeit on a much MUCH slower setting, until I couldn’t walk another inch. Alas, forced to forgo my planned Purple Yam outing, I ordered in Chinese food: bbq ribs, shrimp chow mai fun, and steamed broccoli, which, although not bad was certainly nowhere nearly as delicious as a Romy meal would have been (tho admittedly it WAS cheaper.)

After dinner and now utterly immobile, I began stressing trying to figure out how the hell I’d be able to drag myself into the city the next day to my pre-op appointment at NYU. Barely able to hobble around even while clutching my furniture for support, it was clear that navigating subway stairs would be out of the question. I texted my brother Richard. Lucky me! coincidentally, he was already planning to drive to the city and back to Brooklyn during the same timeline as my appointment at the hospital! So Monday morning, I pain med-ed up, hauled my bod downstairs, staggered in and out of his car, in and out of the hospital, back into his car and back home. Upon entering my building I was able to recruit my doorman to remove all evidence of, clean, and thoroughly disinfect the scene of the rodent’s demise.