Breakfast & lunch at Shapiro’s deli – tapioca, cup of cabbage borscht, toasted bagel and coffee
I’m in Indianapolis for the Public Library Association Conference. We drove down Tuesday, leaving Madison at noon. It was 68° when we got to Indy last night – but the forecast was awful – 2 – 4 inches of heavy wet snow by 4:00 PM on Weds.
It was an easy drive – we elected to do the go right by Chicago route. There was a traffic and congestion when we first got on 294. We stopped at the Des Plaines oasis, and wended through about a zillion trucks when we got back on the highway, but things cleared up fast.
The hotel’s in an old train station, so nicer than your average Crowne Plaza. Connected to the Convention Center via indoor walkways. We got checked in and went out looking for dinner. In the 68° weather – though it might’ve only been like 60° by then – 8:30 or so. Downtown Indianapolis is spotlessly clean – and by our hotel, it’s limited chain restaurant row – Starbucks, PF Changs, Panera, Old Spaghetti Factory, Bucca di Beppo, California Pizza Kitchen, Rock Bottom Brewery. We went to Granite City – another chain. I was texting with John, who hates grad school again, and fell and banged up my knee. Thank you, god, for ibuprofen.
Indianapolis seems to be like Pittsburgh – everyone you meet is very chatty, and into your business – nebby. We found our waitress last night annoying – she kept asking, “slowing down already?” when we would’ve been happier with maybe one check in and then to be left alone with our food. In the morning, I went to CVS to get more ibuprofen, and the checker, in addition to apologizing to everyone for the wait (their self check station was down), said to me, “I hope someone’s feeling better soon”.
We set up the booth, and tried to find places with good wifi for work. I was saved from chain restaurant row by Shapiro’s Deli. I yelped bagels and found them, and couldn’t have been happier. I asked the cashier if I got a family price because I’m a Shapiro. She asked if I was related, and I said all Shapiros are; we’re orginally from Russia. She didn’t get it – she said, “he’s not from Russia – he’s over there”. I went to introduce myself to Mr. Shapiro, and he understood – said his family was originally from Odessa. I said mine was from Minsk – Russia when they came here; I think it’s Belarus now – he said, “yes, they’re all from glad they didn’t miss the boat”. If I’d had more time, I woudve said my grandparents had a dry goods store on Staten Island that seems to have survived Hurricane Sandy and is a yoga studio now – seems like his branch of the Shapiros has had the Deli during the same years.
