NYC has a way of haunting the subconscious, bits and pieces of the city resurface randomly, like songs on a 160GB iPod. Yesterday I pinned for a diner, and an order of bagel, cream cheese and lox. Christoph Niemann built his memories of NYC with his sons (and their Legos) in Berlin. (I can relate living in the now cold and dark Denmark. No more fingerless gloves, I'm moving up to full coverage).