Every day I walk past Rozzo & Sons fish wholesalers. It's a furnace of nasty smells on Ninth Ave. By the time I'm going to work they've been up for hours and the street has been reduced to a sea of boxes, melting ice and fishy water.
There are two things I love about it. The first is that it harkens back to when this was a working city and the sidewalk was an extension of your shop-and possibly your workshop.
The other thing that I love is that it reminds me of how small the world is. Check out the photo below. A day or two ago, a boat in the Falklands came back to port with a fish. Hours later it was on a plane to New York. Shortly after it was sold in the Bronx at the new Fulton Fish Market and then it ended up passing through a store on Ninth on its way to a restaurant. The only trace is a box left lying on a Thursday morning.
