I was told to order the breakfast sandwich on a bagel, not the bun, but this bagel was dry as a cracker so I wonder how bad the bun must have been. But the cook and a civil servant (I can't remember if it was transit, postal, or maybe she just had a blue navy coat on) had a great conversation, and it made this greasy and expensive bacon and egger feel like I was paying for my role in the gentrification of South Brooklyn.
En route one morning to a studio visit in Prospect Point, I stopped at this corner bodega for a sausage and egg on a bun. A row of cops was waiting for the same and I drank a shitty berry tea and waited with them. It was definitely not great, not even close to the eggy cheesy goodness from just a year ago, and it is with a heavy cholesterol laden heart that the era of the good and cheap bodega sandwich in Brooklyn is over.
En route one morning to a studio visit in Prospect Point, I stopped at this corner bodega for a sausage and egg on a bun. A row of cops was waiting for the same and I drank a shitty berry tea and waited with them. It was definitely not great, not even close to the eggy cheesy goodness from just a year ago, and it is with a heavy cholesterol laden heart that the era of the good and cheap bodega sandwich in Brooklyn is over.
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