Breakfast c/o Little Purity

Sunday morning it snowed. We walked to Little Purity for breakfast (the link is right but the photograph of the inside doesn't reflect my memory of the establishment's decor). It was on this walk that I realized that my beloved Sorel boots, which I have had for four years, have become less effective at keeping my feet warm and dry. I've walked away the heel on one of them in such a way that moisture finds a way up and into my boot, thus making me walk around with a wet foot. Booo. Oh Sorel, are you the sort of company that, like winners and champs every where, has a lifetime guarantee for your product? Will you re-sole my shoes maybe? They have served me through one (two?) mid-state New York winters, three mid-western winters (I think I had my boots in Indiana, I know I had them in Chicago) and it would make me sad to have to say adieu.
But the boots are not the point.
I ordered poached eggs and sausage. The eggs were delicious and poached just like I like them, the sausage was robust and bursting with juicy goodness. It was really nice to see K. and C., I don't think I have seen them since their burrito party during my foray into the city last winter.