It's been a rough week-end. I seem to have a much livelier social life in NYC than in Volda. Friday night I celebrated being done with all but the conclusion - modestly though, by seeing the sun set by the water under the Verrazano Bridge, having a philadelphia cheese steak sandwich and a diet coke. That was the last vestige of restraint for the next three days. But I have found at least one new nice restaurant: Sushi Samba at 7th Avenue - just a little north of Bleeker Street. I was not too optimistic at first, it looked like it would be outrageously expensive and I would get pretty, but tasteless food and a drink with more colour than taste, as funky and annoying as their Website. We sat down because they offered nice outdoor seating on one of the loveliest days in New York for the whole time I have been here. I have never been less disappointed. I have no idea now what they called the course I ordered, and it wasn't on the (not too informative) website menu, but it was a fish pot which was served in a sizzling hot bowl. The sauce was made from among other things tomatoes, cream, saffron and generous amounts of fresh coriander. In this incredibly delicious sauce cubes of sweet potato had been cooked with shrimp, octopus, crayfish, different types of shellfish and bacalao. I had a coctail with it (an odd american habit of mixed drinks with the food I am not all comfortable with), and the creamy coconot tasting thing was perfect to cool my mouth when I got too impatient. I didn't manage to finish the meal, even if matthew heroically took it upon himself to rid me of all the mussels. And even as I write, a late and slow Tuesday morning, I remember the taste - almost crave it, if I hadn't been exhausted and a little sick from the rest of what was supposed to be a slow week-end of rest and a little light typing. Oh well - my hands, back and shoulders feel better than in a long time. It's probably all the seafood...