I was doing erands with my friend Andrew yesterday, and somewhere between him refusing to go to the grocery and asking me to take him to 44th street I started to wonder whether we'd be friends if I didn't have a car, or if he did. But these are questions best left unasked, and he does buy me lunch when I ferry him about. Yesterday's fare was Marie Catrib, or Cat-rib as many of us call it. It was packed when we arrived, and we waited 10 or 15 minutes for a table, snaking on orzo salad. I had a sip of Andrew's diet soda, but diet soda is the kind of thing I just cannot drink. The taste of it makes me cringe in the same way whiskey does. Ech. We were seated at the counter, which I like. There's a great communal feel to a good bar. And perhaps also I am around them so much of my time I just feel more comfortable there than at a table. Maybe it's less like being served somehow. I had the "Adult Grilled Cheese" on challa. (holla) I am pretty much drawn to anything with goat cheese on it, but this was goat cheese with feta and cream cheese, also tomato, basil, and enough pepper to taste it. This sandwich is what grilled cheese should be. The challa was good, but not great. Perhaps it is growing up with homemade challa, but I like mine eggier. Cat-rib cuts their bread very thick, but I think this makes the sanwich fun. You have to struggle to get it into your mouth, and then the cheese runs gooey down your chin. Thats really a personal opinion. I had a bowl of tabbouleh as well, and though I loved the proportion of parsely it really should have had more lemon juice. The woman waiting on us was someone I sort of know, friend of a sort of friend. I invited her to my party and she gave me a slice of vegan chocolate blueberry bundt cake that she made. Surprisingly, it was very good. I have thoughts on veganism. Mostly, I don't understand it. I understand that people have different issues in their care. There are just too many to care about them all. The problem with many vegans is that they feel that everyone should care about their pet cause. I have seen too much smuggness and heard too much disgust over eggs and cheese and milk. What kind of life would I have without these things? I suppose I might have to be smug to ease the loss. That said, the cake was lovely, and given in so gracious a manner. It was quite the pleasent lunch.