Wednesday, November 20, 2019

A sign on the counter at the all-day breakfast joint says "Are you drinking enough water? Help yourself to some." A large decanter and a stack of plastic cups sit next to it. It's supposed to be the rainy season, but we've only had brief showers on three days so far. The TV says the humidity is at ten percent. The New York Breakfast at this place consists of two slices of whole wheat toast, one with what may be a sort of cheese or may be egg whites, and the other with smoked salmon, tomatoes, and onion. I eat them as a sandwich but, toward the end, realize that they're probably meant to be eaten independently. There's a green salad on the side. I do everything in Hebrew, hoping that I'll be pleasantly surprised by what I don't understand about what I've ordered. When I'm almost done, the waiter asks "Would you like some --" and says a word I don't understand. I repeat the word, and he pegs me as an English speaker. "Dessert?" he asks. He speaks to me in English from then on. The food is good, and about the same price as McDonald's. But I think I'll order something else next time.