Like Little Italy, Brooklyn gets an entry all its own. Getting there wasn’t fun – an insane cab ride when so many streets were blocked off for security reasons. But once dropped off at the edge of the bridge, I could feel my stress going away. It wasn’t very late but the streets were deserted. There was no map or places to stop for directions and, weirdly, I was just fine with that. There was one street that looked a bit too dark for my tastes (but ended up walking it anyway) and the aimless wandering to find our goal was actually quite nice. The goal, btw? Grimmauldi’s Pizza.
Fabulous food, great atmosphere. Outside, the doorman was letting FDNY and other responders go in front of everyone else. The best part about this? Not a single person complained. It wasn’t even mentioned…just like this was how life was supposed to be. Loved that about the people and the establishment.
Inside, the pizza was phenomenal. By far the best pizza I’ve ever eaten. The girl next to us (a tiny, tiny thing) was packing away slices piled two high) and her eyeing of our pizza made me quite nervous. She even commented on how amazing it looked which made me fear for its safety.
The rest of the evening was a nice, leisurely stroll across the Brooklyn Bridge. Great views, quiet companions, and beautiful nightscapes of the city. The tribute lights ran again (not sure why they ran on two nights) as well so that was a nice surprise.
I loved the simplicity of Brooklyn. The quietness of the streets, the friendliness of the people I met or even just passed by. And the accents? To die for.