New York
A Robot Made My Lunch
Good morning. It’s Friday. Today we’ll find out about restaurants that use robotic systems to make the dishes they serve. We’ll also get details on the settlement between former Mayor Rudolph Giuliani and the two Georgia election workers he defamed.
“Do you want to tip the robot?” my colleague Julie Creswell asked.
We were ordering salads on a touch pad at the Sweetgreen near Madison Square Garden. I had asked her to go to lunch there because she had written about restaurants that are experimenting with automation. That Sweetgreen location has been outfitted with an assembly-line-style conveyor belt and a computer-controlled system that puts the ingredients in the bowls.
Most of the ingredients, anyway. The system would mash the avocado and maul the salmon in our orders, and we ordered the miso sesame ginger dressing on the side, so workers behind the counter put the containers of dressing in after our bowls came off the conveyor belt. It had stopped beneath refrigerator-door-size units labeled “greens,” “grains,” “roasted,” “veggies,” “proteins” and “sauces.”
At each stop, ingredients dropped into the bowls — or not, if an order did not call for anything that could be dispensed there. For all the seeming uniformity of the assembly line, the units above the conveyor belt are not all alike: The last two have fans to keep the temperature down. Behind the “roasted” and “veggie” doors, there’s a heat-lamp glow.
The Sweetgreen location does not have robots with arms that can swing wide, like the ones that weld cars in automobile plants. Kernel — started by Steve Ells, who founded Chipotle in the 1990s — does, and discovered the hard way that the robot revolution has hiccups to smooth out. Ells shut down Kernel’s two Manhattan locations last month “to go to version 2.0.” The overhaul probably won’t be completed before March.
Sweetgreen’s system, called the Infinite Kitchen, harnesses automation for basic repetitive actions, like dropping the ingredients into the bowl. “Where preparation is repetitive, technology and automation are great,” Andrew Rigie, the executive director of the New York City Hospitality Alliance, an industry group.
Restaurant robots hold the potential to reduce labor costs over time, reshaping the work force. A study of “automatable work” in New York by the Center for an Urban Future several years ago found that 84 percent of the work done by restaurant cooks could be automated. “We’re going to continue to see more and more restaurants adopt automation in their operations,” Rigie said, “but we’re a far ways off from the Jetsons.”
One reason is that automated systems are expensive. Sweetgreen expects to spend as much as $550,000 on automation in each restaurant with automation that it opens this year. It is focusing on new locations because it’s not easy to retrofit a restaurant, squeezing bulky machinery into the tight spaces in a kitchen. Sweetgreen took seven weeks to overhaul the location near Madison Square Garden with the system that made our lunches.
Employees there still cook mainstays like chicken and brussels sprouts. They also slice vegetables. They feed those ingredients into the containers in the units above the conveyor belt. The system had to be modified to rotate the salad bowls as they go down the line so that the individual ingredients would land in different parts of the bowl, avoiding what Julie called “a lava-like overflow.” Sweetgreen also had to work out how to slice hard-boiled eggs automatically — and how much kale the system could handle. (Occasionally, some varieties get stuck.)
Sweetgreen says its automated systems can turn out churn out 500 bowls in an hour, compared with a top human speed of about 300. It also says that locations using the Infinite Kitchen system are considerably more profitable than the average: One in Naperville, Ill., has a profit margin of more than 31 percent, well above the 20.7 percent average for the chain.
As for our lunches, I let Julie do the ordering. She bypassed the choices on the board behind the counter and created one of her own, choosing spring mix, baby spinach, roasted sweet potatoes, cucumbers, avocado and miso glazed salmon, with miso sesame ginger dressing.
All but the last three went into the bowls on the conveyor belt. “They still have to have some intervention,” Julie said as a worker behind the counter put the avocados, the salmon and the dressings (in little cups) in our bowls.
The tablet we used to place the order said our salads would be ready in three to five minutes. My name was called about 6 minutes 30 seconds after Julie turned on the stopwatch function on her cellphone.
And the tip? I tapped the $2 option on the tablet — not enough, I now realize. I trust that the money will go to the person who put the avocado and salmon into the bowl.
Weather
Today will be sunny and breezy, with a high near 39. Tonight, clouds increase, and the temperature holds steady around 36.
ALTERNATE-SIDE PARKING
In effect until Monday (Martin Luther King’s Birthday).
The latest New York news
Giuliani settles defamation case, keeping his property
It seems that Rudolph Giuliani will not have to give up his 10-room apartment on the Upper East Side, his Mercedes-Benz convertible or his signed Joe DiMaggio jersey.
He reached a settlement on Thursday with two Georgia election workers he had defamed. They stand to receive compensation — neither side said how much, and Giuliani, who had said the case had drained his financial resources, did not say where he would get any money to pay them. He also promised never to defame them again.
“The past four years have been a living nightmare,” the women said in a statement. “We have fought to clear our names, restore our reputations and prove that we did nothing wrong. With the settlement agreement, they said, “We can now move forward with our lives.”
Until Thursday, it had appeared that Giuliani’s baseless claims about the workers would cost him millions of dollars in assets. He had been found liable for defaming the two women, Ruby Freeman and her daughter, Shaye Moss; he said repeatedly that they had manipulated ballots in an effort to steal the 2020 election from Donald Trump. A jury awarded Freeman and Moss $148 million in late 2023. Giuliani filed for bankruptcy and, after missing several deadlines to turn over his assets, was held in contempt of court earlier this month.
Joseph Cammarata, a lawyer for Giuliani, said that his client was satisfied with the outcome. But he declined to discuss the status of sanctions that Giuliani faced for being found in contempt in two courts tied to the defamation case.
The settlement came after a dramatic day in court in Manhattan. Giuliani had been expected to take the stand to plead for the right to keep an apartment in Florida and three World Series rings from the Yankees. But he never showed up.
His son, Andrew Giuliani, had also been expected to take the witness stand to say that the three rings should not be seized because the former mayor had given them to him. After the settlement was announced, Andrew Giuliani said that he was keeping the rings.
Dear Diary:
I’ve taken the A to work for 20 years. And for 20 years, I’ve done puzzles on the train during the ride.
I didn’t think there could be any more firsts for me on my commute after so long until a recent morning.
As I sat there working on a Sudoku puzzle, a man stood over me telling me where to put the numbers.
At first, I was inclined to tell him he was out of line. Instead, I complimented him on his ability to read backward, and we did the Sudoku together until he got off the train.
— Sandra Feldman
Every week since 1976, Metropolitan Diary has published stories by, and for, New Yorkers of all ages and eras (no matter where they live now): anecdotes and memories, quirky encounters and overheard snippets that reveal the city’s spirit and heart.
For the past four years, we’ve asked for your help picking the best Diary entry of the year. Now we’re asking again.
We’ve narrowed the field to the five finalists here. Read them and vote for your favorite. The author of the item that gets the most votes will receive a print of the illustration that accompanied it, signed by the artist, Agnes Lee.
The voting closes at 11:59 p.m. on Sunday, Dec. 21. You can change your vote as many times as you’d like until then, but you may only pick one. Choose wisely.
Click “VOTE” to choose your favorite Metropolitan Diary entry of 2025, and come back on Sunday, Dec. 28, to see which one our readers picked as their favorite.
Click “VOTE” to choose your favorite Metropolitan Diary entry of 2025, and come back on Sunday, Dec. 28, to see which one our readers picked as their favorite.
Two Stops
Dear Diary:
It was a drizzly June night in 2001. I was a young magazine editor and had just enjoyed what I thought was a very blissful second date — dinner, drinks, fabulous conversation — with our technology consultant at a restaurant in Manhattan.
I lived in Williamsburg at the time, and my date lived near Murray Hill, so we grabbed a cab and headed south on Second Avenue.
“Just let me out here,” my date said to the cabby at the corner of 25th Street.
We said our goodbyes, quick and shy, knowing that we would see each other at work the next day. I was giddy and probably grinning with happiness and hope.
“Oh boy,” the cabby said, shaking his head as we drove toward Brooklyn. “Very bad.”
“What do you mean?” I asked in horror.
“He doesn’t want you to know exactly where he lives,” the cabby said. “Not a good sign.”
I spent the rest of the cab ride in shock, revisiting every moment of the date.
Happily, it turned out that my instinct about it being a great date was right, and the cabby was wrong. Twenty-four years later, my date that night is my husband, and I know that if your stop is first, it’s polite to get out so the cab can continue in a straight line to the next stop.
Ferry Farewell
Dear Diary:
On a February afternoon, I met my cousins at the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. Their spouses and several of our very-grown children were there too. I brought Prosecco, a candle, a small speaker to play music, photos and a poem.
We were there to recreate the wedding cruise of my mother, Monica, and my stepfather, Peter. They had gotten married at City Hall in August 1984. She was 61, and he, 71. It was her first marriage, and his fourth.
I was my mother’s witness that day. It was a late-in-life love story, and they were very happy. Peter died in 1996, at 82. My mother died last year. She was 100.
Peter’s ashes had waited a long time, but finally they were mingled with Monica’s. The two of them would ride the ferry a last time and then swirl together in the harbor forever. Cue the candles, bubbly, bagpipes and poems.
Two ferry workers approached us. We knew we were in trouble: Open containers and open flames were not allowed on the ferry.
My cousin’s husband, whispering, told the workers what we were doing and said we would be finished soon.
They walked off, and then returned. They said they had spoken to the captain, and they ushered us to the stern for some privacy. As the cup of ashes flew into the water, the ferry horn sounded two long blasts.
Unacceptable
Dear Diary:
I went to a new bagel store in Brooklyn Heights with my son.
When it was my turn to order, I asked for a cinnamon raisin bagel with whitefish salad and a slice of red onion.
The man behind the counter looked up at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do that.”
Teresa
Dear Diary:
It was February 2013. With a foot of snow expected, I left work early and drove from New Jersey warily as my wipers squeaked and snow and ice stuck to my windows.
I drove east on the Cross Bronx Expressway, which was tied up worse than usual. Trucks groaned on either side of my rattling Toyota. My fingers were cold. My toes were colder. Got to get home before it really comes down, I thought to myself.
By the time I got home to my little red bungalow a stone’s throw from the Throgs Neck Bridge, the snow was already up to my ankles.
Inside, I took off my gloves, hat, scarf, coat, sweater, pants and snow boots. The bed, still unmade, was inviting me. But first, I checked my messages.
There was one from Teresa, the 92-year-old widow on the corner.
“Call me,” she said, sounding desperate.
I looked toward the warm bed, but … Teresa. There was a storm outside, and she was alone.
On went the pants, the sweater, the coat, the scarf, the boots and the gloves, and then I went out the door.
The snow was six inches deep on the sidewalks, so I tottered on tire tracks in the middle of the street. The wind stung my face. When I got to the end of the block, I pounded on her door.
“Teresa!” I called. No answer. “Teresa!” I called again. I heard the TV blaring. Was she sprawled on the floor?
I went next door and called for Kathy.
“Teresa can’t answer the door,” I said. “Probably fell.”
Kathy had a key. In the corner of her neat living room, Teresa, in pink sweatpants and sweaters, was sitting curled in her armchair, head bent down and The Daily News in her lap.
I snapped off the TV.
Startled, she looked up.
“Kathy! Neal!” she said. “What’s a five-letter word for cabbage?”
Nice Place
Dear Diary:
When I lived in Park Slope over 20 years ago, I once had to call an ambulance because of a sudden, violent case of food poisoning.
Two paramedics, a man and a woman, entered our third-floor walk-up with a portable chair. Strapping me in, the male medic quickly inserted an IV line into my arm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his partner circling around and admiring the apartment.
“Nice place you’ve got here.” she said. “Do you own it?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, all but unconscious.
Once I was in the ambulance, she returned to her line of inquiry.
“Do you mind me asking how much you paid for your apartment?”
“$155,000,” I croaked.
“Wow! You must have bought during the recession.”
“Yeah” I said.
They dropped me off at Methodist Hospital, where I was tended to by a nurse as I struggled to stay lucid.
At some point, the same medic poked her head into the room with one last question:
“You wouldn’t be wanting to sell any time soon, would you?”
Illustrations by Agnes Lee.
‘Part of the job’
Edwin Guity was at the controls of a southbound D train last December, rolling through the Bronx, when suddenly someone was on the tracks in front of him.
He jammed on the emergency brake, but it was too late. The man had gone under the wheels.
Stumbling over words, Mr. Guity radioed the dispatcher and then did what the rules require of every train operator involved in such an incident. He got out of the cab and went looking for the person he had struck.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Mr. Guity said later. “But this is a part of the job.”
He found the man pinned beneath the third car. Paramedics pulled him out, but the man died at the hospital. After that, Mr. Guity wrestled with what to do next.
A 32-year-old who had once lived in a family shelter with his parents, he viewed the job as paying well and offering a rare chance at upward mobility. It also helped cover the costs of his family’s groceries and rent in the three-bedroom apartment they shared in Brooklyn.
But striking the man with the train had shaken him more than perhaps any other experience in his life, and the idea of returning to work left him feeling paralyzed.
Edwin Guity was prescribed exposure therapy after his train struck a man on the tracks.
Hundreds of train operators have found themselves in Mr. Guity’s position over the years.
And for just as long, there has been a path through the state workers’ compensation program to receiving substantive treatment to help them cope. But New York’s train operators say that their employer, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, has done too little to make them aware of that option.
After Mr. Guity’s incident, no official told him of that type of assistance, he said. Instead, they gave him the option of going back to work right away.
But Mr. Guity was lucky. He had a friend who had been through the same experience and who coached him on getting help — first through a six-week program and then, with the assistance of a lawyer, through an experienced specialist.
The specialist prescribed a six-month exposure therapy program to gradually reintroduce Mr. Guity to the subway.
His first day back at the controls of a passenger train was on Thanksgiving. Once again, he was driving on the D line — the same route he had been traveling on the day of the fatal accident.
M.T.A. representatives insisted that New York train operators involved in strikes are made aware of all options for getting treatment, but they declined to answer specific questions about how the agency ensures that drivers get the help they need.
In an interview, the president of the M.T.A. division that runs the subway, Demetrius Crichlow, said all train operators are fully briefed on the resources available to them during their job orientation.
“I really have faith in our process,” Mr. Crichlow said.
Still, other transit systems — all of which are smaller than New York’s — appear to do a better job of ensuring that operators like Mr. Guity take advantage of the services available to them, according to records and interviews.
A Times analysis shows that the incidents were on the rise in New York City’s system even as they were falling in all other American transit systems.
An Uptick in Subway Strikes
San Francisco’s system provides 24-hour access to licensed therapists through a third-party provider.
Los Angeles proactively reaches out to its operators on a regular basis to remind them of workers’ compensation options and other resources.
The Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority has made it a goal to increase engagement with its employee assistance program.
The M.T.A. says it offers some version of most of these services.
But in interviews with more than two dozen subway operators who have been involved in train strikes, only one said he was aware of all those resources, and state records suggest most drivers of trains that strike people are not taking full advantage of them.
“It’s the M.T.A.’s responsibility to assist the employee both mentally and physically after these horrific events occur,” the president of the union that represents New York City transit workers, John V. Chiarello, said in a statement, “but it is a constant struggle trying to get the M.T.A. to do the right thing.”
new video loaded: Protesters Arrested After Trying to Block a Possible ICE Raid
transcript
transcript
Protesters Arrested After Trying to Block a Possible ICE Raid
Nearly 200 protesters tried to block federal agents from leaving a parking garage in Lower Manhattan on Saturday. The confrontation appeared to prevent a possible ICE raid nearby, and led to violent clashes between the police and protesters.
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[chanting] “ICE out of New York.”
By Jorge Mitssunaga
November 30, 2025
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