Eggs and Borscht (But Not At The Same Time)

Lunch today was at Ella Café. My order was pretty boring, I have to admit – two eggs over medium, toast, and side salad. What I received was exactly that. Nothing more, nothing less. Good, but nothing special (but still more palatable than lukewarm reheated spanakopita). Dinner, though, was at Odessa, a Russian place in the East Village. I tried a bit of the borscht, which was hearty and of course bright red. The Greek salad was heavy on the feta, which is not usually a problem, but I was really trying to save room for the pirogis. I tried the spinach pirogi, sweet potato pirogi, and the cheese pirogi. All with applesauce and sour cream. I could have eaten ten (and I think James did). As we were finishing up, the waiter was walking from light to light in the restaurant, unscrewing three of the four bulbs in each hanging fixture. “Mood lighting”, I guess, for when the place turns into a bar around 8pm. We took that as our cue to exit, and left satisfied and happy.

The last pirogi: