Adventures in sewage, with Edible Brooklyn.
There, 10 feet below the surface of the road, was a grim river that carried all the waste from our block, from Bedford Avenue, from who knows where. It rippled below us all day and all night, carrying garbage disposal puree, the Wesson oil you spilled in the sink, the latex paint you washed out of your brush, suds from your Kiehls, and everything you sent down the drain. It was the effluvia of a dozen restaurants, every corner deli, dry cleaners, nail salons and hundreds of apartments. It was like having 10,000 secrets exposed to you at once.