It was a Saturday afternoon and I was settling into my usual routine of avoiding the masses of people that take over the city every weekend. I could get some work done. Or drink half a bottle of wine and watch Saturday Night Live. One never knows. Then Gabi, Time Out New York‘s Eat Out editor, called. Back when I was working at Travel + Leisure, we had met at Le Cirque during some kind of promotional dinner that you jump at when you’re young and broke, the so-called “perks of the job” that we rationalized as compensation for our meager salaries. We had kept in touch and been playing phone tag during my stay. She wanted to go to Brooklyn. In 20 minutes. I ran a comb through my hair and happily accepted.