With Mercury still in retrograde, I guess now is as good a time as any to finally finish talking to you about that New York vacation I took like, a freaking year ago.
I’m sure you’ve probably gathered that aside from wearing leather pants and visiting Coney Island, the only thing I really did in New York was eat food. It’s not my fault, I swear!! It was too cold to do anything else. Actually, that’s not even true. I did do other things in New York. I developed a taste for scotch at a small bar where it seemed to be the drink of choice. I lusted after the many pairs of green Hunter boots I saw on the subway and I watched Boss’n Up. Aside from that, the only other thing I did in New York was eat.
And that’s the way I wanted it. That’s what a real vacation is supposed to be about, no? And a real vacation this most definitely was. So, to summarize my real vacation so that I may return to the here and now, here is a list of all the other delicious things I ate while in New York.
Moules Frites at a cute little bistro called Bacchus.
According to my friend who ordered it, the steak sandwich was also delicious, and I don’t doubt it. Look at that perfect shiny roll!
Insane fried green tomatoes at Sel de Mer.
Braised lamb sandwich and smoked salmon sandwich, shared between the Marshmallow and I at Sweetwater.
Pork buns at momofuku milk bar. Yes, they live up to the hype, as does the crack pie and compost cookie. I made my boyfriend stop by a second time for baked goods to bring back on the plane.
Pernil and yellow rice, which nearly brought a tear to my eye.
Canollis and a mocha sandwich cookie at Fortunato Bros, whose pastries somehow manage to taste even better than they look.
Exceptionally prepared high end comfort food at Diner and Coconut cream donuts at Peter Pan
But the best, the really, absolute best thing I ate during this vacation wasn’t even in New York, it was at home in CT. We took a train for the day and at night we went to my grandmother’s house for Pasta. Perfect red sauce with meatballs, sausage and little bits of pork chop rendered unthinkably tender by long, slow cooking, served alsongside a perfect golden focaccia that my uncle baked from scratch. Truly a labor of love.
Isn’t it incredible that you can spend a week eating beautiful food in New York City, and in the end, still, nothing tastes as good as home.
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