Where will you eat tomorrow, Robyn? Where? WHEEERE? ANSWER ME!
That’s what my brain says to me most nights (what, you don’t converse with your brain?). Alright, every night. It’s actually a dilemma sometimes to try and figure out where to eat despite (or because) there are a gazillion choices. Do I want bread? What kind of bread? Or do I want cake? No, I shouldn’t eat cake. How about that bakery on Prince Street? Okay, how about sushi?
I like trying new things but I also have a tendency to stick to the same places. I should be more adventurous, I suppose. It also gives me an excuse to eat more.
Today I woke up at 10:00 AM and started breakfast with an orange. Not bad, right? Fruit is healthy! …when you eat it alone. I also ate a slice of my roommate’s long-expired bread that has been lurking on the fridge’s bottom shelf since February. No, wait, it expired in February so I guess it has been there for even longer, becoming even more friendly with the plastic barrier it is incased in, perhaps even turning into plastic by this point. I’m sure she’d think I’m a nut job if she knew I ate it, but folks, when I say I like bread, I mean it. I don’t kid with bread. My roommate hasn’t touched it in so long probably because she forgot it was there. I don’t know why she keeps forgetting about her food (she does clean it out every once in a blue moon; the garbage bin weighed a ton the last time I took it out); it’s not as though she doesn’t like to eat. I guess the ways in which people enjoy eating are different, she being sensible and me being a psychotic bread addict with an internal indicator that beeps when bread is nearby.
I left my dorm at around noon, hauling my backpack with laptop in tow, and headed towards Sullivan Street Bakery. Someday I will try the Yoghurt Place right next door, but I was pretty set on going to the bakery for some reason. I got a slice of the zucchini pizza and a raisin walnut roll for $3.50 and practically inhaled them after forking my dough over to the nice cashier (or perhaps after he forked the dough over to me—haha. Oh, that was painful). I mean, I enjoyed them but for no good reason I ate them like a famished squirrel just out of hibernation. The last time I went to the Sullivan Street Bakery (just a week ago) I recall not finishing my “pizza” right away and saving my roll until later. WHAT HAPPENED TO EATING SENSIBLY? The pizza and roll (chock full of raisins) were delicious, of course. My wheat level was full but I still felt like eating.
So. Where to now? There wasn’t any place in particular I wanted to go but I recalled hearing that Oren’s Daily Roast sold pastries. Since I was already en route to campus, I took the little detour to Oren’s. There wasn’t anything there that I really wanted though (they’ve got lots of cookies and biscotti) so I went back to thinking about food. FOOD. WHERE. WHERE IS THE FOOD (besides the obvious answer that it is everywhere, surrounding and taunting my very presence). I remembered passing a boulangerie/patisserie on University Place yesterday so I went towards there, figuring “It’s somewhere on University Place, not that far” when in reality it was at around 12th or 13th Street. Okay, that’s not much farther beyond 8th Street which for some reason is where I thought it was but at some point I was thinking, “Damn, I’m walking all this way to get a cookie?” Which was ironic because I didn’t want any cookies from Oren’s, but I don’t make any sense. My feet were powered by the prospect of cookies. (If you want me to go somewhere, just tell me there’s a really good bakery. ”You should visit the African savannah!” “Why, to see elephants and stuff?” “Well, they’ve got this great bakery…” And before my friend has had the chance to tell me that the bakery specializes in elephant-based pastries—excuse my stupid hypothetical situation as I’m sure bakeries don’t specialize in elephants—I’m out the door.)
The bakery is small and specializes in “things full of butter”, and by that I mean flaky pastries such as croissants and croissant-esque things. Oh, and cookies. I got a chocolate chip cookie larger than my hand and a spinach and cheese pate. They also sell paninis, bagels, and CUPCAKES, so I’ll have to go back someday for the cupcakes. Like right now. Haha. Ha. Okay, tomorrow. Or later. Although they don’t have a sign that says so, they give student discounts.
I don’t usually eat croissant-esque things but the spinach and cheese pate was delicious, probably because it was full of fat. Mm yes, wheat and fat are a good combination. It wasn’t bursting with filling but had a good amount. The cookie was one of the crunchy kinds and I’ve rarely met a cookie I didn’t like. So…I liked this cookie. Methinks I’ll have to go back and try their other ones, or try Oren’s cookies also.
Last week I was on an “only eat loaves of bread” kick but now I want cookies. Actually, I don’t REALLY want cookies but being in search of a certain food that one is likely to find in many places makes fooding more fun. It gives me an excuse to try different places. We’ll see how long I can manage my cookie hunt (I’d say a few days before I start to realize how fat I’m getting).
Oh, I’m getting fatter. :( I’m not wearing my fat gauging pants right now but I’m wearing my “comfy” pants that, while comfy, are feeling tighter than usual. Too much junk in my belly. NOO. I don’t have a baby hiding in there (although it looks like I may be) so I can’t use that as an excuse.
Argh. Food. You mock me.
---some time later---
So it’s about 4:45 PM right now and I’ve been thinking about eating for the past millennium. Once Upon a Tart is nearby, right? Or what about City Bakery? That’s probably less than a mile from where I’m sitting right now. They have that chocolate chip cookie I need to ingest before I die. Of course, Oren’s is a short walk away. Oh, what else is there? LE PAIN! Le Pain is right on 8th Street!
I swear, this is what I’ve been thinking of while doing my English homework, which was to describe stylistic elements of Calvin Trillin’s writing. His essays that I read are about food, so I can’t say this assignment ameliorated my false hunger for baked goods. Calvin Trillin is awesome, by the way. I already figured that out but having to look into his writing style more closely has made his awesomeness more apparent to me (and my stomach).
I’m quite sure that the Devil or some other evil entity (pigeons?) invented pastries. Evil. Evil little doomie doom things of evil.
If I don’t force myself to sit here longer and do homework I’m going to go to Le Pain.