For me, a visit up to the Bronx evokes memories right down into my soul. The sights, sounds, and yes, smells, of an Italian Christmas. Unfortunately, many of the places we shopped at in Brooklyn, where I grew up, no longer exist. So a ride over the George Washington Bridge was in order.
It was a really dreary day, cold, threatening to pour rain (or even snow!) at any moment.
The longest lines imaginable in a tiny narrow slip of a store. But the most delicious ricotta and mozzarella you ever tasted.
Still put the lights across the street. So many businesses have stopped doing this.