I wasn’t hungry for a hot dog when I passed all the carts on my walk up Fifth Avenue, but going down Madison to the Met Breuer I passed a little place that looked appealing. Mostly locals were eating there. On the menu were several Jewish dishes like matzoh ball soup and knishes, but I chose a chicken salad sandwich with a cup of gazpacho and a chilled glass of Sancerre. The sandwich came on the most wonderful bread, oddly enough with the crusts cut off. Across from me was an elderly lady dressed as New Yorkers used to do, and as women of a certain age who live on the upper East side still do: tailored suit with a fancy blouse, matching hat, lovely leather shoes, good jewelry and handbag. No gloves, at least I didn’t see any. The lady took care with her make-up. I’m guessing she was in her 80’s. She had tea and a cup of soup and filled up on the generous basket of bread. Sometimes the aura of affluence, more than the reality, carries the day. Or perhaps she just has a small appetite. I wondered.