MERCADO LITTLE SPAIN

We had just descended from the nature-architecture combo of the High Line, an elevated greenway and park in western Manhattan, when two of my sisters Ana Fe and Honey suspiciously remembered they needed to run some encargos – orders or pabilins to the uninitiated.

You see, we were informed some beloved aunts – of no blood relations, but of choice – together with their octogenarian full-of-life close friends, have furnished a kilometric list of well-being creams, skincare lotions, perhaps specialty ointments – all top-of-the-line, only available and sold in better exclusive ladies stores. Hudson Yards was just the perfect haven for quality.

We, the accompanying gentlemen suspected