"Mangú, Mark, and the Men We Become"

Mangú by the window — the kind of breakfast that lifts the day before it even begins.

Discovering Mangú
What exactly is Mangú, the dish we enjoyed for breakfast? My first taste came from Latin Deli & Grocery on Main Street in Peekskill, and I found it unexpectedly delightful. Mangú is a classic Dominican side dish made from mashed plantains, usually served with salami, eggs, fried cheese, and pickled red onions—though I still insist on calling them purple onions.
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It’s the kind of meal that warms you from the inside out, especially on a chilly Peekskill morning when you’re hiking the hills and need something hearty before burning it all off again.

A Late Breakfast, Holiday Mood
Since our breakfast was rather late, we chose beer instead of coffee—perfectly acceptable given the holiday atmosphere. Sitting inside the deli, sipping beer with Mangú, watching Peekskill residents drift in and out, felt like its own small celebration.

With the recent addition of a Lottery Station, the deli has become even more of a downtown hub.

The New Lottery Station
I’m not personally drawn to gambling or buying lottery tickets—unless we’re talking about emotions and matters of the heart—but I did notice that the only other place to buy tickets nearby is Valley Brook, three blocks down. So Latin Deli’s new Lottery Station will surely be welcomed by those who enjoy the thrill of a scratch-off or a quick pick.

The excitement around the lottery doesn’t resonate with me, but everyone has their own joys. Who am I to judge what entertains others when I have my own peculiar habits and fascinations? We all find pleasure in different ways, and there’s no harm in that.

As for me, I’ll stick with the Mangú. And yes, I’ll keep buying my milk and vegetables there too. The owners and employees treat me well—shouldn’t I support them in return?

Burger Diner: Almost Back
On my walk, I noticed that most of the interior work at Burger Diner is nearly finished. Hopefully it will reopen soon. I remember eating my first Peekskill burger and fries there when I arrived from New York, knowing almost nothing about this town except that I had cousins here.

I liked the atmosphere, the food, the simplicity of it. I ate there several times—even breakfast—before the fire about four years ago, back when I lived on Howard Street.

Painted People Calling
My buddy Frank printed out several pages of Painted People for me to reread and edit, and that will likely occupy most of my day after the gym and a walk along the waterfront to feed the birds.

But it’s Painted People that’s calling. I’m eager to dive back in and see which character will finally bite the bullet I planted. Henry Slesar of The Edge of Night shaped me more than I realized; sometimes I think I’m just another Slesar character wandering through his own plot. The true essence of me—of Charles—is known only to us.

From the Pages of Painted People
He felt the boy’s breath warm against his cheek, a fleeting heat in the cold November dark, and for a moment he let himself believe the night might hold them gently. But when the boy pulled back, the shift was immediate—a flicker in his eyes, sharp and guarded, as if some private warning had passed through him. The look was brief, but it cut through the quiet like a blade, leaving Abel with a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

Love Plaza
Speaking of weather, it’s cold but sunny and beautiful. I’m thinking of a moment with Joaquin, Mark, and a new acquaintance named Kevin as we stood chatting at the driveway entrance to Peekskill Plaza. Mark said Joaquin and I were two of his favorite people and that we should call that corner “Love Plaza.”

We liked that. So that is our Love Plaza—where we stood, hugged, laughed, beside an empty but frozen can of Natural ICE beer, where we lived in the neighborhood.

Seeds for a new novel are always being sown. The mind can’t help it.