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April 7, 2011
Alan Lambert sits on the steps outside his building, his black dog, Cody, lounging between his feet. As always, I stop to chat, not only because Levain Bakery is next door and the smell of its buttery cookies is enough to make me float through the air like Fred Flintstone toward the scent of a brontosaurus burger, but because in the five years since I've met them, I've never walked away feeling anything less than spectacularly happy. Gotta love a dog-loving guy great-grandfather with a full head of gorgeous white hair, rockin' purple Converse sneakers and colorful socks with aplomb.