It’s nearly 9 a.m. and nearly 90 degrees already. I might have to hunt down Mr. Ice Man again.
Last week, we were about to cross the Williamsburg bridge when we spotted a man selling shaved ice (fortification for the humid hike). He was using the same sort of shaving tool–and offered many of the same toppings–that we found in Costa Rica. Inspired by the heat–and in the name of comparison research–Aron bought us a small cup to share.
It cost us a dollar for the freshly shaved coconut-flavored ice; popbar should watch its back.
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