I’ve to drive to Reinbeck. That’s the New York State Throughway up to
Kingston and then the bridge crossing to the east of the Hudson. Shouldn’t need to budget more than forty-five
minutes to get there. Probably wouldn’t be
any longer going straight up Route Nine from the Poughkeepsie side. You’d have more than a few lights doing that
past Marist and up through Hyde Park.
My destination is
Cinnamon. This is the Sri Lankan owned,
South Asian restaurant that my mom has loved for years over in Reinbeck. I have a photo of my older one making a silly
face outside of their old location, when they used to be further out of town
along Route 9. Now they have a place
right in town. I’ve been there before. If you search in this blog for the word
Cinnamon, you’ll find an entry from two years back or so where I compare the
joint with our go-to Indian place Victors, back home in Beijing. The prior has a large Ganesh painted on the wall. The latter has a T.V. with Bollywood and
ironically, I love that.
Why is it one must
order garlic-nan in an Indian restaurant?
I oughtn’t, but I do. And I don’t
really need the saag paneer but I‘m curious to see how they make it. I overhear my step dad say he’s going to order the sea bass but then he changes his mind. I decide that’s exactly what I want. They actually have a Gruner Ventliner by the
glass on the menu. Certainly, this is
not Victors, far, far away in Beijing.
When I parked, I
parked in a large chain pharmacy. I
couldn’t tell you if it was a CVS or a Walgreens or a Rite Aid. But the signs in the lot all said: This is (insert
the appropriate chain) parking, only.
All others will be towed. I
decided I ought to be OK if I bought some mints inside and when I did, I asked
the gent who seemed almost embarrassed by my question. “Yes.
Sure. No one will bother you if
you park there.” Returning from Cinnamon
into the lot, the car is sitting there safely, and I consume a celebratory
breath mint before driving the oddly familiar road back down Route 9 to
Poughkeepsie.
Wednesday 8/14/19
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