The Girl Who Ate Everything

"Just ooooone more slice."

[5 minutes intermission]

"...Okay, just one...more."

[another intermission]

"Okay. I. Just. The. Tasty wheat."

I bought a round, crusty golden loaf of sourdough bread at the Union Square market this afternoon. It diminished to less than half of its size over the rest of the day. Behold, the magical disappearing loaf of bread! It's allll magic! Plus this chef's knife! And this pesto! And this knife to spread the pesto! And this girl who can't stop slicing the bread, slathering it with pesto, and popping it like coke! (If coke isn't popped, ignore my naivete.) MAGIC.

Dammit. Well. I can't say that's any different than what usually happens to bread in my presence. My kitchen is a killing ground for bread. "Welcome! By the way, you shall die soon."

My period started today. Why am I saying this? Hey, why are you reading this? Stop asking questions. (I talk about food and the effects of food, such as health, or lack thereof; you can skip this part if you desire.) I suppose I should write this down to keep track of things. [grabs a random post it stuck to my shelf] ...Erm, this post-it descriptively says:

"India & Apple
dessert in glass"

Huh? This is my handwriting, yes. [squints] If anyone has any idea what that means, please let me know. [scibbles down 3/1/06]

Oh, yeah. So the last time I had my period was February 7th, making my period 22 days long, which is rather short for a period. It's annoying, but I know there are worse things. For most of my period-cursed life (10 years going strong for possible another 30 years; oh jesus), I've been cramp-less. I honestly don't think having cramps is healthy (even if it may be average...actually, I guess the average person isn't healthy, if that proves my point) to have cramps. However, while I'm not very healthy I am cramp-less, and I'm sure there are relatively healthy people out there who are cramp-full. What does this mean? HUMAN BODY = SO CONFUSING. I HATE YOUUUU. I want my money back.

That previous paragraph isn't an invitation for everyone to tell me that I'm wrong. Trust me, I've learned conventional health information (I still remember those pamphlets I got in 5th grade, sponsored by Always©, so ye know it's right!) along with alternative information, in between probably retaining a lot of misinformation and maybe some truths. Or maybe I learned nothing at all. [scratches head]

I don't get mood swings. I rarely get cravings (because as you can tell, I regularly eat stuff I'd crave anyway; the hot chocolate wasn't really a craving for chocolate as much as something warm, believe it or not). However, I was especially tired today...and yesterday...and lately in general, due to getting 5-7 hours of sleep each night (probably close to 5). Nope, partying doesn't keep this girl up at night, just intense paranoia! I was annoyed to get my period today more so than usual because I really wasn't expecting it all. Many times I wonder if I have a hormonal imbalance, not just because of things like this...

And that ends this month's "Not Well Thought Out Thoughts About Things That, I Guess, Prove I Have Two X Chromosomes."

Jacques Torres saves the day

wicked hot chocolate

I strolled over to Jacques Torres Chocolate Haven yesterday before my food science and technology class to 1) get cookies and chocolate for a friend, 2) get a cookie for myself, and 3) test the hot chocolate as a service to my NYC-based readers and because it's freakin' cold.

drink menu

The selections are numerous, decadent, and inexpensive for the quality you get. I tried the wicked, which is well described as having just a hint of peppers, but I fully intend to sear my throat with white mint, caramel, and peanut butter in the months. Or weeks. Or seconds...no, way, back up; or days. Okay, that's still ridiculously short, but a little more reasonable.

I walked back to campus as fast as I could (only a 10-15 minute walk, but still!) while wearing a backpack, carrying a shopping back and trying not to spill a steaming cup of hot chocolate. My overeagerness got the best of me when while walking up Varick Street I sucked in a thick mouthful of hot chocolate.

"Aaahcck ACK IT BURNS OHHH THE TEAR DUCTS FLOW IN RESPONSE TO THE BURNIN."

I didn't actually say that, but I thought it. And then I thought, "Holy crap, so tasty," while ignoring the fact that I just killed some delicate skin cells/tissue at the back of my tongue and upper throat. Hm. So worth it.

chocolate trail

As you can see, this stuff is thick. It might be a little less thick and frothy than City Bakery's hot chocolate, but that's not saying much, eh? It totally made up for whatever I was given at Le Pain Quotidien that morning in addition to being insultingly cheaper. Ohhh man. Le Pain, you make me cry. Even if Le Pain's hot chocolate wasn't that bad before, it sure sucked now. Thin, body-less, flat hot chocolate compared to a liquid that coats the mouth with smooth, soft, burning deliciousness...full of processed cacao beans and fat and sugar and all the other things that taste good. Oh yes, a hint of peppers. It's pretty faint, but does the trick. (Keep in mind I accidentally burned myself, so I probably couldn't taste it that well.)

Jacques Torres' hot chocolate gets many ginormous thumbs up. I'd have no problem drinking this every day, but distance makes the heart grow fonder. Or. Too much hot chocolate makes the blogger really fat. One of those is a popular saying...

Pio Maya

Earlier that day I went to Pio Maya on 8th Street (between 5th/6th Aves) for a little lunchie snack of the non-sweet variety. Rarely having eaten Mexican food my opinion may not mean much, but I enjoyed it and would like to go back.

tamale

I got a tamale mainly because I had never eaten one before. "I dunno what the hell this is; let's eat it!" Yeah! That's me living life on the edge...of a pillow. I told the nice guy behind the counter that I was a tamale virgin (not in those terms) so he suggested I get the chicken tamale (which had a Spanish name that I've forgotten because I don't know Spanish). While waiting for my tamale, I noticed rows of rotating chickens behind the guy...roasting...in their own fat drippings. Lordy, that stuff's gotta be good.

unwrapped

innnards

The tamale wasn't very foreign to me as it closely resembles a zongzi (or vice versa). As I love zongzi in all their fat-laden glutinous rice heart attack goodness, there was no way I wouldn't like a less-heart-attack-inducing (well, it was smaller and not stuffed with fatty pork) corn flour tamale. The chicken was a little drier than I was expecting, but it was still flavorful and...I dunno, what else could I ask for from chicken? Actually, I'd say the tamale was drier than what I was used to, having grown up eating zongzi, but this issue of moisture was solved by the accompanying mole sauce.

I USED IT ALL. I didn't lick the container clean (that would've looked a little odd) but I dunked every bite into the sauce. So. Good. I'm not sure I've ever had good mole sauce before, and even if I had mediocre mole sauce, it would've only been a handful of times in my life. I can't compare it to anything else; kinda spicy, kinda sweet, kinda "something else I can't come up with", not heavy, not thin, just...good stuff. It tasted brown, which doesn't help you all...but it did! IT TASTED OF BROWN.

God, that description was awful. I guess I just need to eat more sauce.

counter

corner

hat

That's the interior. I was going to explain it until I realized that, hey, I'm showing you three photos; you can describe them yourself. If you want some hints, here they are:

- Yellow
- Clean
- Hat

Good job!

Okay, I'm done. Ineed to write these entries earlier in the day so they sound less stupid.

If you were walking outside yesterday in NYC at noon-ish, you'll understand the pain I was feeling.

"OH MY GOD, THIS SHOW CRAP SLUSH CRAP EVERYWHERE, WHAAAT, WE'RE NEVER GOING TO MAKE IT."

Those weren't my exact words. My exact words were less wordy and capitalized. Maybe more like...

[grunt] "I hate this weather." [shuffles down Broadway trying not to soak shoes in snow crap]

I met up with Christina for lunch and was horrified by the slush-slicked sidewalks and roads that had formed while I spent the previous three hours in the photography lab doing "not much" (well, I printed some okay photos and developed a not-so-good roll of film). As we walked towards Ruby's for what felt like an eternity even though it was only half a mile, I thought, "Oh...god, we're not going to make it in time. I'm going to die before I get there This is how it's going to end..."

Of course, we did eventually make it there. If you want a succinct review of Ruby's, check out my food communication class's webzine from last year (which you may notice is hosted on my website and not NYU's for whatever reason, OH THE CONFUSION). If you want a longer, verbosier review, read on.

windows

Ruby's is a tiny, aesthetically pleasing, "somewhat larger than a hole in the wall" restaurant that specializes in Australian food, or food made by Australians. (I don't know anything about Australian food besides that it includes Tim Tams, Violet Crumble, Vegemite and koalas...wait, no meat pies, so excuse my ignorance.) Christina and I squeezed inside the door past the coat hooks and slid onto the wooden benches and table. If there had been any more people it would've felt overly-snug, but in this case it just felt cozy.

wall of stuff

Behold: "The Wall of Stuff." Set on what could be the original brick wall of the adjoining building is a mirror and a shelf that, for some reason really amuses me, holds a Vegemite pyramid. I just noticed two Poloroid shots by the register. My assumption is that they're not "THESE PEOPLE ARE BANNED FOR LIFE" photos, nor "THESE PEOPLE ATE 5 BURGERS...AND ARE ALSO BANNED FOR LIFE" photos, but they seem pretty random and now I'm curious. Hm. [drums fingers]

Pumpkin Salad

Christina's pumpkin salad with extra grilled chicken looked gooood. She ate the whole thing, so I suppose it also tasted good. Thumbs up for the salad.

Bronte burger

I opted for something higher up on the "likely to kill me" scale by ordering the Bronte burger, which includes generous portions of "Premium ground beef, tomato, lettuce, sweet chilli, mayo & cheese." (I also think I'm too influenced by A Hamburger Today). I wasn't expecting the soft, ciabatta bun or the baby spinach salad but was happy to see both of em. "HOW YA DOIN, BREAD? I'm gonna eat you. You too, spinach." No one is safe.

burger innards

Yes, you get this lovely innards shot to stare at while I describe what you're staring at. Juicy slab-o-beef topped with a thick tomato slice, cheese, lettuce, and somewhere in there some sweet chili and mayo. Even though the sauces weren't visible, the taste was all there. It's subtle, but enough for you to appreciate the sweetness and spicyness, which I did. I only had one problem with the burger; the bottom bun acted as a meat-juice sponge, and not a very good one at that. However, this wasn't the messiest, drippiest burger I've ever had, so I don't see that as a large fault. As I don't eat many burgers, you may take my opinion with a grain of salt when I say that this is one of the yummiest burgers I've had in...um...ever. That sweet chili sauce! So good! Must slather on all other meat based foods! I could do without the tomato but I guess it's a standard burger condiment. [sigh]

Christina and I paid the cute waiter (I don't think I've ever mentioned the cuteness of a waiter before, but in this case I have to agree with my classmates from last year and mention this little observation) and hobbled back to campus for class. My desire to try their sticky date pudding was thrwated by the ginormous burger, so delicious and so anvil-like in my tummy. Hmmm...

...Well, someone's gonna go back withi me, right? I mean, I need dessert. Maybe next time I'll get a salad and that will leave sufficient stomach vacancy for sweets. One way to solve this problem of not eating sweets (a serious matter making front-page headlines...nowhere) is to just eat sweets for lunch. I do this frequently. Please don't follow my example.

Joe Jr. Restaurant

While randomly browsing menupages (someone needs to slap that site with a warning sign, like "DO NOT BROWSE WHILE FIGURING OUT WHAT TO EAT", even though that's the point of the website), I came across Joe Jr. Restaurant. A greasy spoon diner in my midst? Hmmmm. I LIKE IT. While looking at the menu online, I set my eyes on French toast and a vanilla milkshake, aka "The Lunch of Anti-Champions". That's what I am, and that's what I got.

French toast

Mmm, when was the last time I had the toast of France? It has been too long, my good friend. Behold two soft, adequately thick slices of challah soaked in an egg mixture and fried to browness dipped in surprisingly viscous syrup that neatly plopped out of the dispenser compared to the other 99% of the times when it runs over the spout and ultimately suffiocates the entire exterior of the dispenser in sticky, golden death. Joe Jr. ain't having none of that! THE SYRUP; IT PLOPS. This French toast gets my thumbs up.

extra thick milkshake

God knows what would compell me to get a milkshake on a day that was so cold as to make my eyes hurt while walking outside for ten minutes at 8:30 AM. Yes, my eyes hurt. My corneas shivered and though, "WTF?". CORNEAS AREN'T SUPPOSED TO SHIVER...OR THINK.. So naturally, I got a bucket of extra-thick semi-liquidfied frozen sweet dairy based substance. I don't usually order milkshakes for the health-killing factor and the what usually seems too expensive price, but I think you get your money's worth with this...bucket. If you can, please share this with someone else, for the love of god. Unfortunately, I was alone, left to ingest the dairy bucket myself.

straw-tastic

I like thick milkshakes, hence why I ordered extra-thick instead of regular. This truly is extra "suck your face inside out" thick, at least until it gets more melty. Do you like that kind of thickness? I KNOW I DEW! It passed the straw test with flying colors. Maybe I need a more difficult test involving heavy metal rods. And squirrels.

I finished about half of the milkshake while sitting at the countered and wondered if I should bother taking the rest to go. A split second later, I decided "Yes, I will not get this tub of molten frozen delight go to waste." (sigh) I consumed all of the milkshake; it just took a while. The French toast was much easier to tackle. Hell, I could've just and the milkshake for lunch, as it probably fulfills my caloric requirements for the next week.

interior

Joe Jr. is a quick eat, probably better for loners who can sit at the counter (the place was consistently full, but the customer turnover rate was high). I don't feel the need to go back, but I wouldn't be opposed to it. (There are just too many other diners I have to try out. And every time, I NEED TO TRY FRENCH TOAST, YES?) It's not exactly cheap (I spent $13 with tip) but the service is nice and you can see them make your food right there. It was somewhat exciting to see my French toast sizzling on the griddle. "That's my toast!"

...Ah ha, new t-shirt idea. I foresee a vector drawing of toast with the words "THAT'S MY TOAST" hovering above the devine slab of wheat. Commence confusion from passersby.

...Come on, you know you want it.

This morning while leaving my dorm, I noticed a row of open boxes of Dunkin' Donuts on the front desk. The attendant called out to us early risers,

"Free donuts!"

Oh. No. No free food. I made a pact to never accept free food (um, I broke it shortly afterwards) but if you wonder whether I especially like donuts or eating at 8 AM, the answer is definitely no. I would've spung for free hot chocolate, but donuts, not so much. If my small lack-of-gluttony this morning disappoints you, then don't worry; this is gonna be one packed blog entry.

Katz's Delicatessen

I was under the impression that you'd have to be living in a bomb shelter (which would be a pretty sucky life) to have not heard of Katz's Delicatessen, one of the most famous and oldest Jewish delis in NYC, but apparently that's just because I'm food obsessed. The first time I passed the bright neon sign on East Houston and Ludlow, I thought, "Ohhh, this place! The place with the meat!" I didn't think I'd ever actually eat there though, as the thought of ginormous meat sandwiches (and fighting a crowd of 50000 to reach the ginormous meat sandwiches) was a bit intimidating for me, besides that I've never been to a Jewish deli before. However, Wei told me he ate there and that it was awesome. Better yet, he'd go back for more meat-induced-coma-ness. AH HA, HERE'S MAH CHANCE!

When you walk in, you're handed a yellow ticket on which your order is recorded. It's your receipt; you pay for your meal at the counter by the exit. If you lose you're ticket, they disembowel you. Or charge you $50 minimum. ...I guess it's the second one. DO NOT LOSE YOUR TICKET.

crowd

It's crazy-crowded when you walk in (if it's a Saturday afternoon and seemingly every family and tour group in the city, people of all ages and nationalities, have decided to eat lunch at the same time), but you basically form a line...wherever.

cutters

gimme my sandwich

The right side of the deli is where the food-making happens. Find a dude cutting meat and line up. While he slices a chunk of beef, he'll place a few small bits on a plate for you to try. I picked up one of the bits.

"...Crap, this is good."

Of course, it would only get better. Think that little meat bit x 1000.

lunch time

Wei got a pastrami sandwich (with mayo) and I went for corned beef (with mustard). Although I've never had corned beef, it intrigued me for...god knows what reason. Corned beef? Huh? I've also never had pastrami (well, not exceptionally good pastrami). Overall, I've had a distaste for luncheon-type meants my entire life. The "Italian" subs I ate growing up (I'm from NJ, if that's any indication...they're everywhere) mainly made me want to gag from the excessive layering of perhapes five kinds of cold, thinly sliced meats and cheeses.

height

I've never seen a sandwich like this in real life before. Thick slices of tender meat that practically fell apart just from my wide eyed gaze that said something like, "Oh crap, I'm gonna eat that?" Hells yeah. I'd describe the taste, but I honestly don't know how to. Think "juicy tender meat kernels bursting with whatever flavors its supposed to burst with". Not overly flavored, nor under flavored, nor anything else that would make it distasteful in any way, besides that you'll get enough protein to last you a few months...which might be what you're going for.

pastrami!

Although I though that the corned beef was great, the pastrami beat it down with a gigantic "haha, I'm tastier than you" mallet; yeah, it was better. With mayo, it was even better than better ("betterer"). Onec again, I suck at describing things, so I'll let Miki Corenthal do the talking:

It was like a tsunami of flavor that was so good it almost made me cry. It was like taking smores, ice cream, and candy and putting it into a sandwich. I wish it never would end, but I gobbled that sandwich down like it was my last day of life on earth.

Dear Miki's life changed, it seems. "Tsunami of flavor" is a bit hyperbolic, but it definitely leaves an impression on you, like a tsunami...hopefully without the death, suffering, and destruction (that'll come later in life when I'm 50). I have to disagree with the "smores, ice cream, and candy" bit, as that would be a really disgusting sandwich (or maybe really DELICIOUS?!), especially if the smores, ice cream, and candy were flavored with smoked beef, but I can understand the comparison. It's the combination of the joy that comes from eating three heavenly things, not actually eating the three heavenly things together, since that would just be wrong.

Alas, I couldn't finish my corned beef sandwich. My recommendation is that if you come here with someone else, share a sandwich (about $12) and perhaps a side of fries. If you're still hungry, try some dessert.

pecan pie

As I sat and moaned over my distended belly full of delicious beef, Wei went back to the counter for pecan pie. I tried a few bites and we agreed that it was just okay. Pecan-wise it was above average, but the sweetness was strangely low, especially for a pecan pie, which should be 99% "something that ends in -ose". Yeah, I made up that rule; so what?

As someone who isn't a big fan of meat, I'd definitely want to go back to Katz's and dig right into a soft, juice, meat-a-licious pastrami sandwich. I was so full afterwards that I didn't eat much else that night except homemade basil ice cream (I might talk about that later, but if not, it's just...ice cream with basil, which tastes pretty good after you eat a pint of it). When people say that Katz's is an NYC must-visit, I have to agree. Pretty damn good.

broomedoggs

On Saturday night (the same day I ate the French-toast-and-milkshake lunch of death), I went to broomedoggs with Patricia before heading off to see Of Montreal (who, by the way, are so freakin' awesome, SO AWESOME, so very awesome). Broomedoggs is in the not-so-busy area of the Lower East Side on Broome Street between Ludlow and Orchard and is conveniently situated next to, of all things, the bakery for gentle tummies, Babycakes. I'll get to that later. Heehee.

menu

non sausage based menu

Choices are clearly displayed on these two large chalkboards. It didn't take me long to decide that I wanted the currywurst sandwich (because I will eat anything with curry). A while after placing my order, Patricia also decided she wanted the currywurst.

multiple wursts of curry

They twins! You can't see the grilled pickles, but they're nestled under the grilled sesame seed bun. Mmm, deliciousness. The sauce is a little reminiscent of barbecue sauce, but not (because it's curry; I just wanted to give you some point of comparison). The sliced sausage tasted good (mild, perhaps?) and pretty basic, but I have no idea how to rate sausages as I almost never eat them. I rarely eat Chinese sausages but I've probably ingested more of those in the past year than any non-Chinese sausage. As you may or may not know, Chinese sausages are quite different from American kinds. On that note, someone should make a Chinese sausage sandwich; I'd eat that like there's no tomorrow. And there wouldn't be a tomorrow since I'd die from the excessive fat content.

additional goo

It can be a messy feat trying to assemble your sandwich without getting sauce all over your fingers (we had a pile of napkins but the guy who worked there came by to give us more; we must've looked like we were in need), and it's not made any easier when you realize there's a crapload of free condiments and you want to try all of them. But...that's insane. You could probably make a sandwich with just condiments and no meat. I went with the chip dust, aka crushed chip bits (an awesome idea really, as I used to put potato chips in my sandwiches when I was younger to reach that crunch factor) and the pinapple goo at the top right of the photo. The other stuff is probably good, but I was highly satisfied with just crispy chip dust and the sweet pineapple. Mind you, I'd eat a sandwich of just chip dust and pineapple if that were less odd.

I'd definitely go back. For $5 you get a good sized sandwich made to order, CHIP DUST, glowing orange walls, lots of napkins, and nice service. Maybe I'll go before my next concert...

Babycakes

See that beautiful glowing sign? What else could stop me in my tracks and make me say, "ARAHGR, BAKERY!!!" while pointing excitedly? An even bigger glowing sign, the size of a small planet. This one's pretty damn big though. If I ever get enough money to buy things like glowing retro bakery signs in addition to the other necessities (such as cake), this is so going in my window. Patricia was surprised that i had never been to Babycakes before; "I thought you've been to every bakery!" Alas, I am a fake; there are still bakeries in the wild that have get to be graced with my tumultuous appetite. It's not that I didn't know about Babycakes, but I had yet to find the right time to check it out.

cupcakes!

counter

Babycakes is adorably homey and looks as though it were plucked out of the 1950s. I mean, comparing it to my socially constructed view of the 1950s; I wasn't alive back then. As much as I love Sugar Sweet Sunshine, Babycakes might be my new favorite in terms of ambiance (even though it's smaller; check out the little kitchen). Also, the young, slim bakers behind the counter were really friendly. God knows that if I worked in a bakery, I'd be pretty freakin' happy. There's also the plus of knowing that everything is made to be fit for "gentle tummies", such as people with wheat, egg, or dairy allergies.

mission statement

In a city dominated by cupcakes overflowing with sugar, flour, and buttercream, it's easy for those with delicate tummies to feel left out. Babycakes offers all natural, organic, and delicious alternatives free from the common allergens; wheat, gluten, dairy, casein, and eggs. Rest assured, all sweeteners have been heavily researched and used sparingly. White sugar will never be found in our bakery. From low glycemic to minimally processed sweeteners-there are safe options for all.

Methinks I've been to every venue of sugary, floury, buttercreamy delights. My question with places that make allergen-free desserts like Babycakes (the other main one being Happy Happy Happy) is...what do they use? Obviously, they don't use anything worse than conventional ingredients, but I'd be interested in knowing what the exact ingredients are. There are bean flours, rice flour, tapioca flour, soy products, and other things probably not often found in baked goods. Thankfully, Babycakes' products don't suffer under their gently tummy philosophy.

lemon cupcake

Patricia got a gluten free lemon cupcake. At $3.25, this is more expensive than your regular cupcake, but I think it's worth it to get something that may be less guilt inducing (and if oyu can't eat gluten, then it's great). While I didn't think it was as tender as a regular cupcake, it was still good. Ye know, lemony, cakey...okay, I don't remember much about the cupcake, but Patricia liked it and I tasted nothing objectionable from the small bite I took. [thumbs up]

double chocolate crumble with chocolate sauce

Now THIS I do remember. Awesome. Amazing. First off, it's sugar free (well, white sugar I suppose) and gluten free (it's made with rice flour). Second off (does anyone ever say that?), it's SO DAMN GOOOOD. Comparing it to regular desserts made with flour and whatnot, it's possible one of the best cakes I've ever had. Of course, that's just my opinion. Maybe you don't like dense, moist chocolate cakes (akin to a brownie but less dense, if it's one of those nice fudgey brownies) with chocolate sauce flowing in every little crevice, but I doooo. For $3.75, you get a generous slice, which despite loving to death I couldn't bear to finish. Sadly, I was defeated by two lonely bites. The leftover chunk stared at me as though it were saying, "Why aren't you eating me? Don't you luuuv me?...yo, WTF?" I stared back and saw a deceptively tiny chocolate brick. Yup, I had reached my quota. (Be sure to notice the cute, flower-printed China plate the cake is presented on. Whether or not it's a hand-me-down from someone's grandma, it looks like it could be.)

UPDATE (3/12/06): Gluten Free Girl voted for the chocolate cake in the Taste Everything Awards.

cookies!

While I had considered buying a cinnamon sugar & raisin cookie (or a chocolate chip cookie) along with my cake, I was really glad I showed some self-restraint because if actually bought the cookie, I probably would've eaten it, thus necessitating some kind of wagon to truck me out of the bakery after falling down from a dessert coma.

frosting shot?

I have to go back for the frosting shot. Whooooaaa.

Babycakes is another "must revisit" place for me. Perhaps the next time I think of Sugar Sweet Sunshine (which I've been to, what, 10 times by now?), I'll head to Babycakes instead. It's open until 10 (on Saturday nights at least) if your gentle tummy gets the late night munchies. Thankfully (for my girth), I don't live very close to it now, but next semester I'm moving to a dorm that will result in me being a 10 minute walk away from Babycakes. I CAN'T WAIT.

Addendum: Babycakes won New York Magazine's Best Cupcake Award! Maybe I should get a cupcake for myself the next time I go back. And a cookie. And a frosting shot. [via brooklynvegan]

The article gives some information about their ingredients: "cold-pressed coconut oil, agave nectar, garbanzo flour, and spelt". Hm. I'm all for coconut oil (when my nutrition teacher told us that coconut oil wasn't recommended for consumption because it's saturated, I thought, "Don't suppose you've been to southeast Asia?" and, "Waaah?!" among other things). I don't know much about garbanzo flour, but I suppose that's good too. Spelt, strangely perhaps, gives me problems; I find it harder to digest than plain old super-processed has-no-trace-of-nutrients wheat flour. Agave nectar is a good alternative if it's used right, which I think they did. Last week in my food science and technology class, we made acai muffins sweetened with agave nectar.

muffin without berries

They came out...okay. The pureed tofu kept them moist (we wanted to make vegan muffins), but the agave nectar didn't provide nearly enough sweetness. We're going to switch to regular sugar or brown sugar when we redo the recipe tomorrow. Pray for us; I ate so many of those muffins last week, not because they were great, but because they weren't that bad. Or great.

Lastly, I'm going to Slice/Gothamist Eat Pizza Till You Puke Party (not the official title, but it might turn into that) at Fornino on Monday, March 20th at 7 PM. Who's with me? $26.06 is pretty steep but it's all you can eat and drink, which in my case translates to all I can eat, which to be honest isn't $26.06 worth of pizza considering I had trouble finishing one pizza at Piola. But...I'm intrigued. I guess I could just fast all day and see what happens (gurgling and foaming at the mouth). I'd be more excited if desserts were also part of the deal (the ice cream cookies look delicious), but I think you'll only benefit if you're a alcoholic and take advantage of their supply of beer and wine. Doh!

Addendum: Okay, maybe not; I can't eat that much pizza, like...ever. Hm. Thinking about it.

...Oh well, I still want pizza!

[As for the alcohol thing, I just don't like it. Hey, I wish Prohibition never happened; what can you do? When I was little my dad offered me wine on a number of occasions, but I distinctly remember hating all of it. A tiny sip from his glass was all I needed to determine that wine tastes like alcohol, which sucks, or it tasted like grape juice gone beyond horribly wrong, which also sucks. Trust me, at this point there isn't much I can do about my "unrefined" palate besides get a new tongue/brain transplant.]

This morning after mailing a package at the post office on 4th Ave and 11th Street, I thought,

"Hm. Should I get food?"

The answer should have been no. Or, more forcefully, NO ROBYN JUST RUN, RUNNN FAR AWAY FROM THE FOOD, OR BABY BUNNIES WILL SOMEHOW SUFFER AT THE HANDS OF YOUR GLUTTONY, EVEN THOUGH THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. I'm not hungry in the morning and eating when I'm not hungry just ruins any possible hunger that may come later in the day when my stomach is 1) in a churning mood and 2) I'm less comatose. (Actually, I wake up in the morning pretty easily. I just happen to walk around in a zombie-like state.)

Joe

Naturally, from 4th Ave and 11th Street one walks to University Place and 13th Street. Huuuh? Well, you know me; I like to try new things. I had never gotten Joe's hot chocolate drinks before (or any beverage from Joe), but I figured they must have some. I'd much rather go to Jacques Torres for hot chocolate, but they don't open in the wee hours of the morning. People generally perk up with coffee, not molten chocolate. Damn fools. Someone needs to promote hot chocolate as the quintessential morning beverage.

hot hot hot

Their menu offered "European drinking chocolate" above "hot cocoa". Ahh! Hot cocoa! I had a feeling that "hot cocoa" wouldn't have a high enough chocolate percentage to satisfy my chocolate desire (not that I had much of one at 8-something AM), thus I went for the "I dunno what it is but I'll get it anyway" "European drinking chocolate". The barista explained to me that it was a thick hot chocolate drink that came in a tiny espresso cup. Innnteresting. Since I had the choice of regular or spicy, I went with spicy. $3.52 later, I was given...

european drinking chocolate

...a tiny cup of pudding-esque chocolate substance and a tiny spoon to eat the pudding-esque chocolate substance with. I invite you to observe the viscosity:

thick

closing in on the spoon!

Whoa. Alright. The chocolate had a great taste, which I'd describe if I didn't lose all those brain cells in "The Great War". Maybe it's safer to say that there wasn't anything offensive about the taste. Not too bitter nor sweet, not too chocolately nor not chocolatey enough. I was going to say that it had an earthy taste, but by that I mean substantial, not ...um, dirt-like. It tasted brown. Pretty good stuff.

BUT ALAS. This isn't something you can comfortably drink. It's not quite pudding and it's not quite a liquid you can sip from a cup. If you think City Bakery's hot chocolate is thick, at least you can drink it. You have to suck this baby down or daintily lick it off your tiny spoon (you're apt to eat it in a dainty manner beacuse of the daintiness of the cup and whatnot). Admittedly, I find this viscosity level odd because I'm not used to it. If you're from Europe, please chime in on whether this is how you drink your hot chocolate. Yes, ALL OF EUROPE. THE ENTIRE COUNTRY. Speak up, damn you.

Bottom line: it's not bad, but since it's not what I was looking for, I was disappointed. If you want a shot of chocolatey pseudo-pudding drink that you can scrape out of the cup with a spoon for $3.52, go for it. It was worth trying once, but I wouldn't get it again.

Muffins and More

Yesterday I did another random food-hunt by going to Muffins and More on 4th Ave. God knows how many times I had passed it without even checking out what they had. Hello, muffins are awesome! Indeed, they do have "more"; inside you'll find a substantial sandwich menu and other baked goods, like scones and rice krispies treats. However, I figured I'd go with their moniker and get a muffin.

carrot muffin

At $1.95, their muffins are more expensive than most places (from my experience, $1.75 is the mean price). I kept thinking to myself, "I hope this muffin is awesome." Yeah, I'm pretty weird.

Result: the muffin was awesome. The carrot muffin didn't skimp on the raisins (which is good if you like raisins...which means you'll hate it if you're Garfield) and was moist all throughout except for the crispy cookie-esque top. Ahhh, I love a crispy muffin top. And CRISPY MUFFIN TOP LOVES YOU. Of course, it's also got carroty goodness. It's got everything going for it. I'm definitely gonna try another muffin, or perhaps a scone. Or sandwich. Or ALL OF THE ABOVE.

butter scone

On Monday after class, I stopped by Balthazar Bakery with the intention of picking up a chocolate loaf to split with a friend. Unfortunately, they only have that on the weekends. [shakes fist] To make my trip worthwhile, I decided to get a plain scone. I had only tried a sticky bun from Balthazar before and found it disappointing (maybe it was too...old). BALTHAZAR, TIME TO REDEEM YOURSELF--SCONE STYLE.

chunk

Yeah, this so passed the scone test. I'm definitely putting this in my list of "best scones", along with Financier, Levain, and Bouchon. What made it so good? Perhaps it was the butter, or the just-right tenderness, or the not-too-moist-or-dry-ness, or the crispy golden sugar-topped crust, or...OH, I guess it's all of that. Get yourself some awesome scone action for $2. DO IT.

I was going to write a long, semi-thoughtful response to this book I just read and ramble about the meaning of baked foods, but I'm too lazy. Lucky you.

While I would usually sum up a few restaurants in one entry, some restaurants aren't the, "Ooh, just gonna shove it in with the others like a miss-shelved grocery item that I'm too lazy to put in the right place," type of restaurants. Sometimes they're the, "OMG, THIS IS AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME I NEED A LARGER VOCABULARY" type of restaurant.

On Thursday night, Kathy and I roamed around the Lower East Side in search of dessert after eating dinner at Pearl Oyster Bar. (Trust me, we're well aware of our gluttony. But ye know what? We're on spring break! We may not be spending our time in the most beneficial way, but we're not partying and downing Jell-O shots either. I don't have a "Jell-O shot radar", but I feel like somewhere in the world, someone is doing that right now.) Kathy wanted to try Sugar Sweet Sunshine, but alas when we peered through the glass door at 10PM, we were met with a big CLOSED sign and an employee shaking our head at us. The cake denied us. [sob]

Dammit. Now what? We walked around the area, sniffing out menus like airport security dogs (you know, if they sniffed menus and not horrible things like...illegal fruit). Desserts at Schiller's looked promising, but 1) the place was freakishly crowded and 2) the desserts only appeared on the prix fixe kid's menu. Do you have to be 10 to eat the desserts? I have the brain of a 10 year old, if that counts.

Oh well. We walked around some more.

le sign!

Helloooo, wd-50! We looked at the menu in the window. Tempting, but it lacked the prix fixe choices that we knew existed.

"Should we go inside to look at the menu?" suggested Kathy.

"...um, YES."

I followed Kathy through the heavy (or air-pressured) wooden door.

inside

For some reason, I thought it would be smaller. The dining room is large, although not scary, Olive Garden large. Just larger than other restaurants I've been to. The hostess showed us a menu and it took us about 5 seconds to decide that we both wanted the $35 5-course dessert tasting menu. Great Gluttonous minds think alike.

table

At around 10 PM, we only had a short wait before we were seated. Hooray for spontaneity and lack of reservations! We happened to be seated next to two majorly food-minded women from California who had eaten lunch at Fatty Crab and had spent the past few hours at wd-50 indulging in the tasting menu. The next day, they were planning to eat at Cookshop. Whoa. That's one way to get the bang out of your vacation. If you're wondering, we didn't invade their minds with our non-existent mind reading powers; Kathy is uber-friendly and happened to strike up a conversation with them. They graciously offered us tastes of their end-of-the-meal ginger cotton candy.

"Holycrapthisisgood," I thought as the fluffy sugar melted into...well, less fluffy sugar. Saliva will do that, ye know. Sweetness and ginger smooshed throughout my mouth. Saliva will do that too. I was damn happy. It was a smidgen of what was to come in the next two hours, akin to the sauce smears on the five dessert plates of a gazillion flavors we would receive throughout the night.

first course

Our first course was celery sorbet, peanut powder, and "magic" raisins that we decided to call magical because we couldn't remember what the exact description was. (The waiter would describe each dish to us, but we'd forget 99% of it in 5 seconds. Damn.) The first bite (you know, after taking 10 photos and picking the one that sucked the least) went somethin' like this:

"...Whoaaa."

"...Yeeeaaah..."

"THIS IS SO GOOD."

"I KNOW."

That wasn't exactly what we said, but it's close. And if you ever wondered, yes, it's possible to speak in caps.

Celery sorbet is awesome. Obviously, it tastes like celery, which isn't something you'd associate with desserts. So why it is awesome? Well...have you ever had celery sorbet? It didn't make the cut at Baskin Robbins, but it's damn good. It tastes light, refreshing, and I daresay, almost cleansing. I would have liked it if the peanut powder had a stronger flavor (or maybe my taste buds were celery-ified), but it went nicely with the celery. The dessert was like ants on a log (which seriously do not look like ants on a log unless the log is radioactive and covered in poo and the ants mutated into legless, wrinkled, gelatinous chunks), but more labor intensive and with less insoluble fiber.

second course

Our second course was manchego cheesecake in a crushed graham cracker coating topped with pineapple foam with a manchego cracker accompanied by thyme sauce and chopped quince. That sentence probably isn't grammatically correct, but you get the idea.

cheesecake butt + innards

Of course, cheesecake at wd-50 is not regular cheesecake. It takes basic parts of a cheesecake and condenses them into this little block of joy. I don't recall that the cheesecake was strongly flavored with manchego (a Spanish sheep's milk cheese), but the cracker was very cheesy. Also, as a testament to my inability to identify flavors, while eating the foam all I could think of was, "This tastes so familiar! I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IT IS. Jesus doesn't love me." I only realized it was pineapple when I looked over the menu; it's so obviously pineapple when you eat it that I really deserve to die. Now.

[waits]

Still alive. Phew.

thyme sauce

Is it weird if the thyme sauce was my favorite part of the dessert? It's not as though the other parts were sub-par, but the thyme sauce happened to latch onto my taste buds more forcefully than the other parts of the dessert in a totally unexpected way. First off, who would expect thyme sauce with cheesecake? And who would think that they would go together so tastily? NOT I. I'm not even a big fan of thyme--the aroma of it tends to punch my brain in a way it doesn't like to be punched--but this sauce! THIS SAUCE. Like all the desserts, a little taste is all you need to be satisfied.

third course

The third course was mustard ice cream on braised pineapple topped with a pinapple tuille and coconut foam with mustard sauce. [takes a breath] The mustard ice cream whacked my throat and made it tingly. Crap. And then, since I'm a masochist, I took another spoonful and endured another whack. It was less painful than eating straight mustard sauce, but...man, this was really mustardy. Although it was tasty, I wouldn't be dying to eat again. In my opinion, the strength of the mustard flavor drowned out any coconut taste in the foam. Actually, the mustard drown out everything else, except for the mustard sauce (or maybe it drowned that out too; it's mustard²!). Don't get me wrong; I enjoyed the dessert, I just found it overly mustardy.

fourth course

For some reason, I don't remember what the ice cream was, but here's my description: (maybe) brown butter ice cream with French toast, raisin paper, raisin sauce and (maybe) brown sugar gelee.

mm, French toast in cube-ish form

innards!

Ohhh, French-ified toast is the best kind of toast. (If you disagree, just keep quiet or else I will silently curse you with a lifetime of crappy toast.) Part of the joy of French toast for me is when it comes in the form of a big, fluffy stack, but of course, there was no such thing here. Instead, we got bite-sized, crispy, creamy-innards French toast brick. Naturally, it was awesome and unlike any other French toast I've had, but nothing that would fulfill my craving for a French toast tower. (Not that wd-50 is supposed to fulfill any craving. Just sayin'.)

ice cream

Kathy said that the ice cream was brown butter flavor. As you know, my tastebuds tend to be in the "off" position, thus I couldn't really tell what this was. Brown sugar? Butter? Brown? Tastes like brown? Well. It tasted good, whatever it was. Sorry for the vagueness, but...come on, everything tastes good and I back it up 10000%.

Once again, I feel in love with the sauce. It's just raisin! IN FRIGGIN' SAUCE FORM! And that raisin paper...whoa, what? Dehydrated to the max! I accidentally dropped it after picking it up (because as magical as this food is, it does not possess the power of levitation...yet) and it shattered. Wayward shards of ultra-thin raisin paper, oh no! SAVE THE CHILDREN! I mean. I was just surprised. ...I'm weird, okay? Raisins paper is tasty and a little odd, like everything else we ate. (rubs belly)

fifth course

Oh crap, it's THE LAST COURSE. NO! SHIT! NO! However, I think they saved the best for last: mole toffee-topped butternut squash sorbet with pumpkin seed cake on top of chocolate soil and toasted squash seeds with butternut squash sauce and mole sauce.

close up, yeaaah

Butternut squash is majorly overlooked as an awesome sorbet flavor. FOOLS. ALL OF THEM. ...I DON'T KNOW WHO "THEY" ARE, BUT THEY ARE FOOLS. While I like ice cream more than sorbet, that's because sorbet tends to taste icier, or at least less creamy. I like the texture of ice cream more than sorbet, but all the sorbets and ice creams at wd-50 were velvety smooth and creamy. This was my favorite, with celery coming in at a very close second. And the soil? THE SOIL? WHY WAS THE SOIL SO TASTY? It had a slight salty flavor and was somehow just very...good. And the seeds? THEY'RE JUST SEEDS! But perfectly toasted so that they popped in your mouth, thus unleashing the powerful fumes of unborn squash embryo. Delicious.

Once again, the sauce. Yes, the sauce...was awesome. Just licking the mole-sauce dipped tines of my fork made my throat tingle in a less pain-inducing way than the mustard imparted onto my mucus membranes. This stuff was strong. And excellent. I know "excellent" tells you nothing, especially coming from someone who only had mole sauce once before in her life, but...whatever. Don't you trust me?

My new dream sundae would consist of butternut squash sorbet topped with chocolate soil, toasted squash embryo and drizzled with mole sauce. I wonder if they'd fulfill a request like that. It'd probably cost $50.

Oh my god; it's over!

...NO WAIT! It's not over.

ginger cotton candy

We received an end-of-the-sugary-meal bowl of "looks like an exploded fluff ball" ginger cotton candy. More sugar? Hell yes! Imagine cotton candy. Imagine fresh ginger. Combine the two, and this is what you get. I don't think I need to describe what cotton candy tastes like; if you've never tried it, that kinda sucks. Find some! ...At your local carnival!

Come to think of it, there aren't a lot of instances when you would actually eat cotton candy. It's a childhood food for me; I've seen cotton candy vendors on the street, but no part of me wants it as much as I would have when I was 10. However, fancy it up in a nice bowl and flavor it with ginger and I'll be all over it like...I dunno, something that really likes ginger. Your mom.

...I need better similes.

almonds!

If you eat the normal food (you know, not completely sugar-based), you receive a little bowl of chocolate-covered curry-dusted almonds. Although we only ordered desserts, Kathy really wanted to try them (and of course, I did too) so she asked if we could have a bowl. As you can see, they granted our request. Just the right amount of chocolate and curry powder, if that means anything. Which it doesn't. BUT THERE YOU GO.

Since Kathy is 10000 times more passionate about food than I am (seriously; she's going to culinary school after she graduates, while I'm going to sit in front of my computer and ensure that my butt molds to the shape of my chair), she asked if we could meet the pastry chef, Sam Mason (whoa, he has a website!). And so we did. Photographic evidence is in my flickr stream; I'd rather leave it there than post my sweaty visage here.

He was really nice, although probably dead-tired since it was the end of the night, and possibly thought we were freaks, but it was great to actually see the person (or people rather, as one of his sous-chefs was there too) who made our desserts. We stood in the kitchen for a while to watch him plate desserts; I felt like my presence was a contamination hazard.

I'm thankful that Kathy had the guts to ask to meeting the chef because I'd never do such a thing. The only comparison I can make is that...it's like meeting a musician I really admire (music and food are my biggest interests). It's nearly impossible for me, unless I really want to do it. For reasons I don't know, I have an intense fear of bothering people, which goes beyond meeting famous people; I don't even like talking to regular people. I mean. ...I love my friends, but it's nearly impossible for me to make new friendships just on my own will. This food blog has unintentionally resulted in gaining many friends who like to eat. Aside from my increasing girth, I'm really lucky.

If I ever wonder if I can become a writer, all I have to do is read real writing. The answer is NO. Here's a snippet from Fader about Sam Mason that describes his desserts infinitely better than I ever could:

Although it's not our favorite taste Mason has created, the cubes are representative of Mason's style--familiar flavors are matched in odd pairings and in odd forms and textures. You've had saffron before and you've had passion fruit before, but you've probably never had them together and you've certainly never had them explode in your mouth out of a tiny gelatinous cube. It's food totally decontextualized, as though a familiar bite has been seized from the tip of your tongue, taken to a lab where its taste has been perfected and repackaged, and then placed back in your mouth. Familiar tastes no longer conjure their familiar associations and you can practically feel your brain trying to figure out how to process them. The effect is simultaneously exciting and shocking--a little bit like forgetting the name of your life-long partner in the middle of making love.

Yeah. Well, I don't know about the last sentence, but...yeah. Maybe that's why I couldn't recognize the pineapple flavor in the foam; I was too shocked and excited!

...Nah, I think I was just stupid.

Wow, did you read this whole thing? I'm impressed! (I bet you're really bored.) I'm also mega tired and have to do my laundry into the wee hours of the morning, so here's a summation of my wd-50 experience:

It was awesome and I want to do it again. Now. I mean, soon. I've never had any food like this before (well, not five courses of it), so I have nothing to compare it to, but I have a feeling that every other comparable eating experience is just going to suck from now on. Also, since I love desserts I doubt that wd-50's normal food would make me anywhere nearly as happy. And happy, I was. The joy I got out of the dining experience exceeded some of my happiest post-concert highs. My god...has food become that important to me? To exceed post-concert high? CRAP! What will Radiohead concerts mean to me now?

The service was excellent. I think we had maybe four different waiters who were all nice, and not in an scary, overly-smiley way, but in a warm, comfortable way. Although the restaurant could have been pretentious, it didn't feel like that at all. It was just awesome and at no point felt uncomfortable. After Kathy and I left, two different waiters came out in succession with my shopping bag and camera that I had left under the table (if you haven't figured it out yet, yes, I am a moron); I felt so bad!

...I should've tipped them more. You know, my predicting my stupidity of leaving half of my belongings under the table.

In the nerdtastic words of Allen, I less than three wd-50. Eating there with Kathy, who got as much (or more) joy out of the experience as I did, made our 2-hour dessert one of the happiest eating experiences I've ever had. After it was over all I could think about was "Man that was awesome why was that awesome can't think straight I am really happy okay I gotta blog it now" (which is why I blogged about it...three days later). Obviously I can't say anything about the non-dessert food, but if you like desserts, I'd say this is a must-visit in NYC. And if you don't like dessert, curse you and your toast.

"IT'S BLUE RIBBON BAKERY TIME!"

"OKAY!"

Kathy and I make our way through the West Village to the dimly lit Blue Ribbon Bakery and attempted to squeeze inside.

"Too many humans."

"Yup."

"And the wait is 45 minutes."

"Mm...screw that."

Alas, I'll have to try Blue Ribbon Bakery another time. Where to now?

We roamed. And roamed. And stopped! ...And continued roaming. Lather, rinse, repeat. At some point I remembered that I wanted to try Pearl Oyster Bar for their legendary lobster roll, despite that I never eat lobster out of being indifferent to the taste. But when you want something, you want something. Like giant crustaceans. They're hot.

Pearl Oyster Bar

We were seated in about 25 minutes. While we thought we asked for a table, they didn't have any left. The bar was fine for dinner though and it gave us a clearn view to spy on other people if we so desired. A hypothetical conversation could go like this:

"Look, those people are eating oysters."

"...Yup."

Okay, not very exciting.

We looked at the menu, despite knowing what we both wanted: the soft innards of lobsters, chopped up and coated in mayonnaise, then stuffed into a bun sauteed in butter. Yeah.

lobster roll

Our bulging lobster rolls came with piles of golden shoestring fries. I dug into the fries first since it was obvious how to eat them: pick up, stuff into mouth. The lobster roll eating method was less obvious. Why? Well...

lobster close up

Even though the lobster roll is basically a sandwich, it's not the kind of sandwich you can eat with your hands, unless you want to get mayo all over yourself (and hey, maybe you do for some weeeeiiird reason I'd rather not know about). After attempting to lift the roll with my hands, I realized that the fork and knife existed for a reason. Fork goes into pile of chopped meat and knife aids the fork in cutting the bread into bite-sized portions. Oooh...I'm a quick one.

As I'm not very familiar with lobster, I can't rate it with any authority. I thought it tasted great. It was tender, not tough like some other lobster I've had, and while you'd think that mayo would taste heavy and heart clogging, this tasted light and possible un-heart clogging. THIS MAYO REVERSES HEART DISEASE!...just kidding. The roll fulfilled the heart clogging portion of the meal; this was one of the best buns I had ever eaten, or perhaps the best. The botton was slightly crispy and exploded with butter. EXPLODED. YES. I don't know how much or what kind of butter they used, but it was rigged with fat bombs. Tasty fat bombs.

final price

I don't think I've ever spent $22+ on a single entree, but there's a first time for everything. From the mind of a cheapo, I'd say that this is worth $22 and I wouldn't oppose to eating it again. Granted, I have nothing to compare it to since I've never had a lobster roll before, but I have a feeling I won't like other ones as much after having eaten this one. (If you're wondering, I do intend to try more lobster rolls at some point for the sake of...um, increasing my sensory detail bank of lobster roll memories.) After polishing off our lobster rolls, Kathy and I agreed that it didn't feel heavy at all; despite eating gigantic wheaty buns of meat, our stomachs felt un-full enough so that we could embark on a dessert hunt that night.

piggy!

The next day, I met up with Tokyo and some of his friends for lunch at The Spotted Pig in the West Village. I've heard plenty about the restaurant, although I don't know why. ...Well, okay, it's probably the Mario Batalli reference (he's a partner in the restaurant, methinks), and the good reviews I've read. I'd never think of going to a gastro-pub that specializes in British and Italian food if someone else didn't suggest it, so I'm really glad someone else did.

downstairs, upstairs

After waiting about 30 minutes at 1PM, we were finally seated at a casual bench-like table on the second floor. By the way, if you look at these photos, there are lots of...pigs, spotted and not.

bar snacks

They even smile at you while you pluck roasted almonds and marinated olives from their concave porcelain bellies. Aw, so cute!...but is it really? THERE ARE A LOT OF PIGS AND THEY ARE EVERYWHERE YOU GO, FOREVER STARING INTO YOUR SOUL. If you are swine-phobic, you should stay away from this place.

burger!

Thankfully, I am not swine phobic. Or burger phobic. Or else I'd run away screaming from this formerly mooing behemoth.

mm, burger

Cheese. Meat. Bread. No extras, no silly vegetables or condiments; it's just about juicy pink meat, strong, melted Roquefort cheese, and substantial grilled bun. While everyone else (at our table of four, there were three hamburger orders) seemed to think that the cheese was too much, I ...agreed, but also really liked the cheesy punch that came with the beef. THE CHEESE--IT PUNCHES. If you don't like your punchy cheese, then just give it to me. I think everyone else would've liked their burgers cooked longer, but I actually liked this stage of pseudo-meat-coagulation. What does that say about me? I like risking food-borne illness?

oh jeez

Um. Uhhh. Contrary to what you see in the photo above, if I may redeem myself, I didn't actually eat the whole thing; Tokyo and I split the "Chargrilled Burger with Roquefort Cheese & Shoestrings" and "Sheep's Ricotta Gnudi with Sage & Brown Butter". People who like to share food for the sake of trying twice as many things are totally awesome. However, I did eat the bulk of the shoestring fries, which while too flimsy to eat one at a time turned out to be addictively delicious when shoveled in one's mouth by the forkful. I adopted the "fork shoveling" method to eat every morsel of fries + onion + rosemary + fatty goodness. It's no wonder why people get the fries as a side dish that resembles a large haystack...OF UBER FRIED POTATO DELICIOUSNESS.

gnudi

Oh yeah, the gnudi. I had no idea what gnudi was, but apparently it gets compared to gnocchi a lot. Gnocchi, I have had!...once. I found these sheep's milk ricotta gnudi to resemble ravioli more than gnocchi since they were little cheese balls wrapped in dough. Really nice, spherical cheese thinly wrapped in dough. These delicate little buggers were like the anthithesis to the hulking burger that made up half of my meal. Still yummy, of course.

innards

I liked the burger better, but you can't really compare the two. The gnudi were good. Or was good. The gnudis? The wuhwuh? Can I call em gnuds, cos I'd really like to? I enjoyed the dish and I'm sure this is good gnudi, but it's not something I'd choose to eat again. TOO DAINTY. NOT ENOUGH...CHEESE-SLATHERED RAW COW OOZING IN ITS OWN JUICES. Come on, how could I not be taken over by hamburger lust while eating a table with three plates of hamburgers? HOW?

Um, so that was an indulgent lunch. I think the final bill was about $20 per person. Or less. ...Maybe it was less. I really liked the burger and the fries. As for whether I'd return to the Spotted Pig, I don't think I have any reason to, but I wouldn't object to eating the burger again if my friends wanted to try it out. Damn. Burgers. They're...they're tasty. But only the good ones. I think I'm getting to the point where I'll cry (inside) if I eat a flat, overcooked, dry hamburger patty slapped between two plain, weak, cold, boring buns. Choose wisely, I must. (Talk like Yoda, I should not.)

I think my arm got fatter. ...No, not in the past second, but in the past few days. Sure, I don't have a subcutaneous fat testing device on me, but...*squish squosh*...wow, skin isn't supposed to do that, unless you're a whale. And even then, it probably isn't supposed to do that. Well. This is a problem.

*squish squosh*

...Make it stop. MAKE IT STOP! Maybe I should just wear long sleeved shirts. Yes, that'll make the problems go away.

I like Manhattan. It's kind of small (I'm from suburban NJ; it's spread out, yeah), but within its vicinity contains innumerable ways for you to blow your money on stuff you don't need. Sweet. And I don't have to drive a car, so that helps. Sometimes I forget that there are other boroughs. Like over there? [points east] That place is called "Brooklyn". Magical land. Has gnomes or something. Over there? [points north] Something else. Over there? [points south] Mexico.

On Saturday, Sarah and I had a bit of a dilemma. No, our pants didn't catch on fire; this was seeerrrious.

"Where do we eat?" (Yes, a common question.)

"I DUNNO, OH GOD." (And my common answer.)

That's serious, folks. Sarah consulted her Chowhound guide while I sat on the other end of the phone line in my chair being of no help whatsoever.

"Wanna go to Queens?"

Queens...ohh yeah, I had been meaning to go there. I think it's up there. [points north]

We safely arrived in Queens safely after having a bit of a scare with the nonexistent 7 train. (Hey, we weren't the only confused people. You should've seen the confused tourists asking us for direections. ...Actually, it's a good thing you didn't see that.) Set loose upon Roosevelt Avenue, we were drawn to any sign that said "BAKERY" (later, we learned to avoid the ones that also said "PIZZA"; places should stick with one or the other). It felt like Disneyland, but dirtier, sans-themed trash bins, or people in oxygen-restricting costumes, or rides, and with everything in Spanish...okay, maybe it wasn't like Disneyland, but there's some basis for comparison there.

Oh, there is a major Disneyland reference: babies. Strollers. Babies in strollers. Galore. Maybe it was a Saturday afternoon thing ("BABY DAY!!"), but I swear I hadn't seen that many stroller-pushing women in one place since going to a Disney theme park. What does that mean? People really like their kids, perhaps. Or there are a lot of fertile women in Disneyland and Queens. Heeey, that's cool with me...just as long as I don't have to give birth to anyone.

tacolandia?

For some reason, I really liked the TACOLANDIA sign. So welcoming. So...odd.

We felt out of place. Who knew a subway ride was all it took to plop you in another country? Or what felt like another country full of bakeries, street food, and...I dunno, other less important things? It felt a lot like Chinatown, but with more space and things in Spanish.

La Pequena Colombia

Moving on, we ate a late lunch at the Chowhound approved La Pequena Colombia. It took us probably too much time to figure out what to get, but in the end we setttled on two appetizers and a main dish.

cappuccino, blackberry in milk

While I don't usually order a drink, I figured...hey, blackberries in milk! Tasty? I GUESS I BETTER TRY IT, FOR THE SAKE OF HUMANITY. They offer a few "[fruit] in milk" drinks, and for no reason in particular I went for blackberry. It's something like a milkshake and a smoothie with the consistency of a not-very-viscous yogurt. It's good. Sarah liked her whipped cream and cinnamon topped cappuccino.

And then came the food.

salad and rice

Unbeknownst to us, as we've never eaten at a Colombian restaurant before, our meals came with free salads and a pile of rice. We were intrigued by the grilled rice ball since we had seen it in a bakery we went to before.

rice ball innards

"This...doesn't taste like anything."

Doesn't taste like anything? How could something taste like nothing? Even water tastes like something: hydrogen and oxygen. I took a bite.

"...Whoa, this doesn't really taste like anything."

Actually, that's a lie; it tasted like grilled rice. But it almost had no taste! Someone back me up here.

sweet plantains, arepa grande con queso

And then came the appetizers. Whoaaa, sweet golden plantain chunks! You've had bananas; it's kinda like that, but heartier. This stuff is good, unless you're like my friend Mary and have an aversion towards the sound of masticating bananas (the squishy sound gets to her, but she's fine if she can drown it out with something crunchy). The arepa (flat cornflour based bread) with cheese was also pretty good. I wish the cheese had been more melted so that it coagulated on the arepa instead of floating on top, but I still happily ate it. I'd describe what an arepa tastes like, but it has a grainy texture that doesn't really compare to other things I've eaten. Kinda chewy, kinda soft, but not too much of either.. BEHOLD, the most pointless food description everrr!

tamal, tamal innards

This may not look appetizing, but trust me when I say IT WAS DELICIOUSLY AWESOME. The menu described it as, "Homemade using yellow corn masa, stuffed with potatoes, pork, peas and carrots and wrapped in a banana leaf. Delicious!" The menu said delicious! THE MENU DOESN'T LIE! It looks kinda jello-ish, but the texture was like...well, something with potatoes and corn masa. Starchy, perhaps? And the pork...man, I love this kind of pork. Moist, tender, and falls apart at the touch of your fork. Hell, maybe it falls apart just at the anticipation of being forked. It's telepathic meat.

Colombian coffee

We also got free coffee at the end of the meal. The waiter said that it helped digestion. Instead of waving my hands around and screaming, "ME NO LIKE COFEEE", I accepted the small cup and took an un-sugared sip.

"Hm...I still don't like coffee, but this isn't that bad."

Sarah said it was good, so I'll trust her coffee-drinking expertise. To me, the coffee had a very earthy and, I daresay, robust (I don't even know what that means) taste. While it didn't hit your mouth with bitterness right away, the aftertaste did leave that bitterness behind, which is my least favorite part of eating anything bitter (you know, the...um, bitter flavor, hence why I rarely eat bitter things). After dumping in a few streams of sugar to up the sucrose level to proper Robyn levels, I found that the coffee actually tasted good. And by that, I mean it tasted 50% like sugar. I ended up drinking the whole thing without screwing up my face in disgust too much. Gotta love that sucrose.

bill

Do you see this bill? THIS CRAZY BILL? Dammit, I could easily spend this much on one meal. (Uh, I think I did that yesterday.) How could I live here for so long and not know of such delicious, inexpensive Colombian fare? WHY DO I SUCK?

Sarah and I would recommend this restaurant. We had an uber-friendly waiter and the busboy was nice too. He asked us if it was our first time there since he hadn't recognized us; I guess most people are repeat-customers, which is a good sign. The only weird thing that happened was when the cashier asked us why we were taking photos.

"You usually need a permit to do that. These won't end up on the Internet or anything, right?"

"Um...nooo, these are just for ourselves."

[whistles]

an assortment of sugary delights

Since I'm too lazy to actually write stuff, I'm just going to gastroporn-you. All the above photos were taken at Buenos Aires Bakery. Never before had I seen so many cakey desserts oozing with thick, brown caramel (or dulce de leche, I guess?). While I could compare the proliferation of bakeries in this area to those in Chinatown, these Argentinean bakeries know what they're doing with the sugar content. As in, high sugar content. Ooooh yeeeaaah. Sarah and I bought two chocolate covered caramel tarts, a cream filled donut-type thing, and a cream covered bread stick type thing. The grand total came to $4.10.

lots of baked goods!

We later went to La Nueva Bakery, which besides baked goods also has craploads of perfectly formed, shiny loaves of bread, and giant scary sandwiches that I don't think I could ever eat, unless I planned on dying from being over-sandwiched. Maybe that's not such a bad way to die.

caramel tart

That's the last of the porn; I promise. The chocolate tart was recommended to us by the young woman working at the Buenos Aires Bakery. It wasn't my favorite thing in the world, but it was a good choice and unlike anything I ever had before. It was basically a sweet, hard cookie-type tart crust filled with thick caramel covered in chocolate. Whoa. You'd have to be crazy to not enjoy that just a little.

Conclusion: Roosevelt Avenue is awesome.

Pizza: it's the college student's staple. You can eat it for dinner! Or lunch! OR BREAKFAST! You can even brush your teeth with it! Despite the many uses of pizza, which may or may not be life sustaining, I rarely eat it. I grew up eating pizza, no question, but that was the school "pizza day" stuff. Flaccid, dripping in yellow oil and heavy with cheese, I easily gobbled up two slices (even when I was in elementary school, oh my), but I wouldn't be very drawn to that kind of pizza now. (Actually, there's this place near my house called Brick Oven Pizza that I used to go to a lot with my family since it was pretty good. I haven't been there in years, but I'd be interested in trying it again.)

Horrifyingly perhaps, my entire first year in NYC was pizza-less. I've only become more "adventurous" (with a rather unadventurous food) because of...um, my need to update this site and the realization that there are pizzarias on seemingly every corner of NYC, as though no one took their pizzeria-control pills before copulating like rabid bunnies. Surely a handful of them must be good. Or at least not suck and offer me something reminiscent of my grade school days.

Luzzo's

Last Sunday I went to Luzzo's in the East Village with (holy crap, I'm going to alphabetize) Adam, Allen, Amy, and Kathy. Luzzo's was recommended by my food history teacher, Fabio Parasecoli. Understandably, he's very food-minded with the plus of being from Italy, so I fully trust his judgement.

Fritto Napoli

We started with two appetizers. The fritto napoli consisted of fried cheese, fried potato balls, fried rice and cheese balls, and a somewhat random grilled bread slice topped with cut baby tomatoes.

innards!

The crust was thin, light, and compact, if that make any sense. The triangular fried cheese pieces were easily the best and thankfully didn't resemble the chewy, yellow, oil-laden mozzerella sticks I remember eating growing up. There were....um, good. I was going to come up with a better description, but imagine the deliciousness of melted cheese and then imagine it rolled around in bread crumbs and deep fried. DEEP FRYING INCREASES DELICIOUSNESS! You know it.

Fried calamari

Our other appetizer was fried calamari. Growing up, fried calamari was the thing my family (or at least my mum and I) "always" had to get at restaurants if they had it. I ate a lot of Italian food growing up, thus I ate more fried calamari than anyone should ever eat. At some point we realized that deep fried squid slices probably weren't that healthy (yeah, we're smart) so we stopped ordering it, meaning I stopped eating squid altogether because why else would I want to eat it if it weren't breaded and deep fried? THERE IS NO REASON TO EAT IT. NOOONE. (Just kidding; I'm sure there are other good squid dishes...none of which I particularly enjoy.)

This fried calamari was okay. Not bad, not great. I would've liked it if it were crispier, but at least it wasn't funkily chewy. If you want fried squid rings (and golly gee, who wouldn't?!), this will do the trick. I prefered the fried cheese.

Now...get ready for the pizza parade.

Bufola

The bufola mozzeralla pizza was topped with (get ready for this) BUFFALO MOZZERELLA. The simplest things can be the tastiest too. Never having seen this kind of pizza before, I found the polka dot cheese pattern very cute. And tasty. Round things are tasty. This may not be the best way to describe melted buffalo mozzerella, but it has this sweetness to it that fills the mouth with soft, warm, blissful cheesiness. What does that mean? ...Hell if I know. It's tasty. That's it.

pizza ortolano

The pizza ortolano was topped with tomato, mozzarella, zucchini, mushrooms, eggplant, radicchio, and maybe something else, but that's where the menupages description ends. Pretty good. I mean, it couldn't be bad It's good. Yeah. Come on, bread plus cheese plus [insert any combination of edible toppings excepy maybe...tripe)] equals something tasty. I like how the toppings are just plopped on top and not bathing in cheese.

...bathing in cheese...man, that's disturbing.

For some reason, I deleted the photo I took of the pizza marinara, so you'll have to rely on my description. [tumbleweed rolls by] Um. It. Uh. It had anchovies on it. I don't understand how anchovies got such a bad rap; they're not bad at all. Kinda salty, but nothing worthy of being loathed to the 10th power (loathe¹⁰, if you wanted a visual). It was actually the olives that I had a problem with; they existed. All over the pizza. There's nothing wrong with putting olives on pizza, but I don't really like olives. I wouldn't attempt to reattach them to the pizza if they were to fall off, or get mysteriously flicked off by my finger. Mysterrrriously.

Pizza Marta

I saved the best for last. This pizza is named after Martha Stewart because apparently, she really likes it. Man, I wish someone would name something after me. "The Robyn: Chocolate Lava Ganache Cake topped with Whipped Cream and White Chocolate Syrup and Caramel Syrup and Maybe A Pat of Butter and then Dipped In Chocolate, Deep Fried and Covered In More Whipped Cream".

...Wait, that's disgusting.

Back to the pizza. It's awesome. I've never had the combination of white truffles, truffle oil, buffalo mozzarella, and prosciutto before, but there is a reason that people like truffles; they're damn tasty! Or the oil is. Or mixed with cheese, bread, and pig meat, it is. I don't know how to describe the truffle-y taste, as it doesn't really hit one of the taste receptors. A part of your brain just knows it's tasty.

...My god, maybe it's crack. That explains it.

The only thing that bothered me about the pizza was that I thought the crust would be crispier. It didn't have the consistency of melted cheese (that would've been odd), but it was rather floppy. Hm. Maybe it was supposed to be like that.

store hours

After a quick stop at Build A Green Bakery, we (sans Kathy, who I'd meet later in the day) went down to Il Laboratorio del Gelato. Yup, there's no better way to aid post-pizza digestion by adding a layer of creamy, churned, frozen dairy products. Or there is. It's one or the other. Sadly, Il Laboratorio's hours kinda suck. I'd go there so much more often if they opened later than dinner time into the wee hours of the night when I get hit with an ice cream craving. ...On second thought, it's a good thing they don't open later. (They probably run out of everything by then anyway, eh? COS IT'S SO GOOD? Yeah. But who eats ice cream at 10 AM? I mean, I'd obviously do it, but I'd have to think twice...and then eat it anyway.)

medium cup is delish

I got a medium cup with toasted sesame ice cream and dark chocolate ice cream. Something inside me tried to swerve my decision towards mint, but I resisted since I've already tried that flavor. REAL MINT IS SO AWESOME, SWEET JESUS, YOU MUST TRY IT...but I'd feel guilty if I didn't attempt to try all the other flavors first (and you know, that is my goal, after I visit Antarctica and pet a real penguin). Some other interesting flavors were ricotta and mascarpone. However, since I wasn't familiar with their flavors in a non-ice cream setting, I figured it wasn't the best choice. Toasted sesame and dark chocolate went well together and as usual, they tasted amazing. Who would've thought that real flavor could taste so good? WHO?!?! Why don't more people make toasted sesame ice cream? (sigh)

The medium cup is an adequate portion and well worth your $4.25. While I know I should get a small, as it is enough to quel an ice cream craving, I tend to go for medium. Damn my gluttony. If you ever go to Il Lab with me, instruct me to get the small. "No medium, Robyn, resist!...um, why are you holding that shovel above my head and looking at me like a homicidal maniac?"

Babycakes

After killing some time and parting ways with Adam, Allen, and Amy, I went to Babycakes to meet up with Kathy, two of her friends, and Nick, a fellow reader of this blog. We decided to meet up so I could give him his Poofy pancake t-shirt (hint hint: I am taking more orders, so if you want it, BUY IT NOW, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD).

frosting shot

Behold, the mysterious frosting shot. Nick was the brave soul to actually buy one of the babies instead of saying, "Whoa, awesome idea, I should eat that someday," like I've been doing. He said it was good. I guess you can't go wrong with a shot of frosting.

carrot wheat-free cupcake

I went for the carrot wheat-free cupcake. How good is this cupcake? AWESOME. ...Wait, that didn't answer the question. VERY. Yes. It's "very" good, not "awesome" good. "Awesome" isn't an adverb. I think.

Back to the cupcake. It's very soft and squishy, just moist enough to be fluffy and not glistening, and...um, it's carroty. I'm not going to describe what carrots taste like. The frosting confused me a bit as I couldn't really discern the flavor, but the texture was creamy and smooth. This cupcake is awesome and won't suck the life out of you with refined wheat flour and sugar! Score another gazillion tasty points for Babycakes.

That was my Sunday. After that, I may have passed out. Since it's already Wednesday, you can see that I'm falling behind. Very. Behind. My stomach area is growing every so much larger and its topography getting ever so much bulgier (thank god I know I'm not pregnant), all so I can blog about stuff and tell you what's delicious. I DO IT FOR YOU. And myself.

Okay, mainly for myself.

---

Final note: Lifehacker discusses what not to eat over your computer. I don't have commenting privileges on their site, so I'll give a response here:

Get a keyboard cover. Problem solved! I've solved the problem of crumbs and sticky fingers by covering my keyboard in molded plastic. I BEAT THE SYSTEM! BOO-YA! [does a little nerdy dance] Not only can I eat just about anything over my keyboard, but I can put stuff directly on my keyboard. I don't do it, but I could, and that's what counts.

First matter of discussion: my arm? It's too squishy. It's not just that it feels like Jell-O, but I think that some Kraft scientists messed with my arm while I was sleeping and turned it into Jell-O. I have a subcutaneous Jell-O layer. Kraft now owns my arm.

[squish]

Despite that, I'm still eating. Yeah. Today I went from about 3 PM to 11 PM without eating because 1) I wasn't hungry and 2) I was in the computer lab for that entire time. 8 hours isn't very long, but by the time I got back to my dorm, I immediately filled my pot with water and tossed my last frozen pork bun into the steamer so that 20-odd minutes later I could feast on a bun of mysterious meat wrapped in sweet, soft, whiter-than-Conan O'Brien steamed bread. Mm. Besides that, I got to feast on a box of Australian goods provided by the uber-sweet Jess! It contained fruit bars, cookies, crackers, and this li'l devil:

yeast is mine

I have heard about the famed Vegemite for years; now it is mine. Unfortunately, I have nothing to eat it with at the moment (no, I'm not going to eat it straight from the tube), so until that happens, it'll just be that funny little yellow tube, radiant with the warm yeast paste glow. You know, that glow. (nods) I think it's the same one pregnant women have.

Oh, so back to the point of this entry, where I tell you about things not related to Vegemite. This is out of order (hopefully I'll get around to the meals I had earlier this week), but I'm going to write about Balthazar, where I ate for dinner Wednesday night, and Blue Ribbon Bakery, where I ate for lunch yesterday. I'll start with the not-as-good one since that seems to be the way to go.

Balthazar, bread basket

Actually, I need to step back a bit. There wasn't anything wrong with Balthazar. The room was large and impressive (although louder than most places), the service was attentive and skilled at filling our water glasses every 30 seconds, and the food was obviously good. This is where "weird Robyn psychological problems" come in.

At some point during the meal I thought, "Huh...I'm not enjoying this as much as I think I should." Vibes. I got weird vibes. Kathy invited me out to eat with two of her friends, and for whatever reason (well, if you're my livejournal friend you'd know), I got "opposite of awesome" vibes. Weird vibes upset the stomach. And the mind. And the soul, if I had one. (KRAFT OWNS MY SOUL.) They were nice people and I'm sure they're cool since Kathy's friends with them, but the feeling just...made me uneasy. I'm not the only one who gets vibes, right? I'll acknowledge that I'm not always right when I feel uneasy, but when I do feel at ease I think it's always rightfully so. (Really, I've been in seemingly sketchy situations that upon retrospect may have looked bad, but in the end were totally fine because I knew the other person was cool.) Also, I'm rarely in a stuation where I feel uneasy because I avoid ...you know, social things.

Oh well. That wasn't food related. It was just a reminder of how sensitive I am. You can't tell how sensitive I am from this blog alone; it's for the best. Even if you know me semi-well in real life, you wouldn't know. SO MANY PROBLEMS, SO MUCH INHIBITION. Oops.

Anyway, no more about that. I know Kathy (who is awesome!) reads this and I don't mean to portray anything negative about her friends (who I doubt are reading this...um...I'm not really sure), but I figured it was an important part of my experience. Sometimes you mix well with people and sometimes you're just neutral. Hopefully you know what I mean.

koulibiac

Stuff at Balthazar is expensive. Yeah, I knew that...but whoa. As you read in my wd-50 experience, I don't mind expensive things if I think it's worth it. For some reason I was drawn to the dinner special, koulibiac, which consisted of salmon wrapped in a puff pastry with rice, spinach, dill, and "something else I don't remember" stuffing. With...um, mushrooms and some kind of milky sauce. I had a hard time deciding what to get, wondering if I should let price sway me or to just go for anything. I don't think I've ever spent $26 on an entree before because 1) I don't often go to places that have $26 entrees and 2) I'm kinda cheap. The dish was good--everything cooked perfectly, whatever that entails--and I ate the whole thing rather quickly.

But was it worth $26? Uh. I'm not sure. It was good and obviously took a bit of labor to prepare, but I wasn't wowed by it. Perhaps I'm not supposed to be wowed, but hell, a hamburger could wow me. There was nothing wrong with this dish; methinks I just got the wrong thing. (I heard the duck confit, onion soup, and frites were good, but I didn't want to just get frites nor did I want the entrees that came with em.) One of Kathy's friends got the chicken and spaetzle and it looked delicious. I tasted one of the spaetzle pieces and was reminded of excess tempura batter. Never having eaten spaetzle before, I don't know what it's supposed to taste like, but I wouldn't mind eating a bowl of it. My heart might mind, but...whatever.

So I guess my recommendation would be to not get the koulibiac, unless you're as curious about it as I was. There's nothing wrong with it, but...I don't know. I honestly can't think of much else to say about it.

caramelized banana tart with ricotta

And then all was made right with the world when the dessert appeared. God, I love dessert. I would've rather eaten three desserts for the price of one koulibiac (damn, wouldn't most people?). This caramelized banana tart atop of a frozen ricotta disc was beautiful to look at, although no dessert is too beautiful to prevent me from stabbing it with my fork. The perfectly arranged thin banana slices were coated with a thin caramel candy shell. Breaking the top reminded me of digging into a freshly burned creme brulee. I think I would've liked this more if there were some kind of cream between the banana layers and the cookie (the answer to all of life's problems: add cream), but it was fine without it...because the frozen ricotta disc made up for the creamy factor. Faintly sweet with a light, fluffy texture, it went really well with the tart in taste and cool temperature. AND CREAM. I LIKE MAH DAIRY. AND FAT OF BOVINE ORIGINS.

Hooray for dessert. When I say I want to go to restaurants and just make up my own "dessert tasting menu", I'm not joking. I just need to find someone to go on a dessert hunt with me; the more people you eat with, the more you can sample!

Blue Ribbon Bakery

I went to Blue Ribbon Bakery for lunch yesterday with Patricia and three of her friends that I had never met before. The additional three friends weren't planned, but I was cool with all of them. I mean, no weird psychological things coming up here, OKAAAY? Just wanted to let you know that the weird vibes don't come up every time I go into public.

downstairs

At 1PM, we had no problem getting a table downstairs. I was only vaguely aware of the downstairs seating area, which is nestled in this lovely rustic "everything is made of bricks" environment. It was very cosy and warm feeling. Walking down the hall to the bathroom (which was also very nice and clean) you'd pass the most awesome thing ever: BAKERY. Magical bakery! I half expected elves to appear, arms carrying piles of bread...wait, that doesn't make sense. Something about it felt magical and out of another time and place. Yeah, I'm weird.

bread basket

Their free bread basket is awesome. (I should've mentioned that Balthazar's bread basket was also awesome. Oh god, yummy bread...makes me so happy.) Besides the two breads you can see in the photo, there were some smaller slices of some kind of chopped vegetable flatbread. IT WAS SO GOOD. I wish I had a better description, but you'll just have to try it for yourself.

chicken salad sandwich, BLT, yellowfin tuna sandwich

We all got sandwiches. Why? SANDWICHES ARE AWESOME. I didn't get to take a photo of one of them, but they all looked different, although were about the same size (which was larger than how they appear in these photos, I think). I feel like every sandwich had its own personality. "This one comes with a salad; it's kinda healthy! This one comes with fried shoestrings; it's gonna clog your veins!" Mm.

The Blue Ruben

Clogged veins, here I come. I went for the Blue Ruben, composed of "Chorizo, Cole Slaw, Cheddar on Baguette". I've never had a ruben sandwich before, but they're not usually as appealing to my tastebuds as this one. Bread plays a huge role in rating the deliciousness of a sandwich, and I'm not a big fan of your typical rye bread. A baguette on the other hand is always welcome to enter my stomach. Repeatedly.

I loved this sandwich. Although it may seem like there wasn't a lot of filling, it was just enough for me. I've never had cole slaw in a sandwich before, but it went well with the thinly sliced chorizo and melted cheese. Everything just went so WELL together, especially when hugged by a crispy, toasted baguette. The sandwich came with some brown sauce that I couldn't identify, so naturally I dipped the sandwich in it and it tasted awesome. It tasted...brown. If you know what the sauce is, please let me know.

friiiiesss

Even though I felt satisfied after eating the first half of the sandwich, I just kept on going. I ATE THE WHOLE GODDAMN THING. (Patricia exercised more sense than I did and saved half of her sandwich for later.) I don't think I finished the shoestrings (why have I eaten so many things that come with shoestring fries as of late?), but they were good. They tasted like...well, crispy fried potato sticks, which means they burst with fatty goodness. Oh lord.

Banana Walnut Bread Pudding

Alas, the real reason I wanted to try Blue Ribbon Bakery wasn't for the sandwiches, but for the infamous bread pudding. I read that this pudding was worth killing babies for. ...Okay, I didn't, but I bet someone out there had the idea at some point. ("The baby was ugly!") Luckily Patricia agreed to split dessert with me (before even knowing what I was ordering) or else I would've wanted to explode from eating the whole thing.

pudding!...gone

Oh yeah, this was AWESOME. I didn't know it came with a large plop of vanilla ice cream, which increased the awesomeness by a lot. I may have eaten it too quickly for the tastiness to fully register in my brain, but I just remember warm banana chunks, walnuts and uber-moist bread pudding chunks swimming in caramel sauce and melted ice cream. Awesome¹⁰⁰⁰. $12.50 is a crapload for dessert (although technically I paid $6.25), but I wouldn't hesitate to get this again. Hell, I want another one. Now. Okay, soon. Not right now, since it's past 2 AM.

I want all their desserts. No joke. Anyone wanna go out for a "let's order everything on the dessert menu" meal? You know I'm serious.

We all left Blue Ribbon Bakery extremely happy and stuffed. This goes on my "list of restaurants I want to go back to soon"...figuring I get through everything else first.

[Very short preface: This entry contains no food porn. So sorry, I am.]

RANDOM NON-FOOD RELATED THING: If you saw what I wrote here before, PRETEND YOU DIDN'T. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then...that's good! Yes. ...To be more specific, a fellow blogger tipped me off on Google Ad's policy prohibiting bloggers from telling readers to click the ads just to make more revenue, which makes a lot of sense. I don't need the revenue. USE YOUR CLICKING POWER HOWEVER YOU WANT. In this case, I urge you not to click on the ads unless you need live lobsters or want to lose 20 pounds in 3 days, or something like that.

Okay, back to food! But not what I ate. A while ago, I read this diet-blog post about the importance of eating breakfast and forgot about it until it came up as a referal in my site stats. And then I remembered....yeah, I don't really agree with the idea of eating breakfast as the answer to a healthy life or lower BMI. I'm not saying breakfast is bad--I don't think everyone has to eat breakfast.

A girl who reported eating breakfast on all three days had, on average, a body mass index 0.7 units lower than a girl who did not eat breakfast at all.

If the breakfast included cereal, the average was 1.65 units lower, the researchers found.

I don't eat cereal! Oh god! It's not out of laziness or an idea that I'll lose weight (to do that, I just cut out ALL COOKED FOOD), but because I'm not hungry. Eating breakfast kinda ruins my appetite for eating other meals that I'd rather eat. Admittedly, breakfast food is pretty awesome, like pancakes and waffles, but I don't think that's what people should be eating for breakfast. When I was 25 pounds lighter, it wasn't because I ate breakfast (because I usually didn't), but because I cut out a gazillion kinds of food. When I gained back the 25 pounds, it wasn't because I didn't eat breakfast, but because I decided to become a glutton and eat whatever I felt like. Within reason. Kinda. ...Damn potato chips did me in.

Okay, obviously there are unhealthy people who eat breakfast and healthy people who don't. I eat...whatever. Sorry. Breakfast works for some people! Or doesn't for others! Is it possible that not all humans need to eat breakfast? Am I an anomaly with metabolism so slow that it actually goes backwards? (Which makes no sense, but try to imagine it anyway?) I can go a long time without eating and feel fine. Not deathly. I don't get the shakes. My stomach might churn air, but I assure you that my body is still processsing crap and that the mashed up food is still traveling along the intestines, where nutrients are being soaked up and bacteria are...uh, doin' stuff. (Bio major, I am not.)

So yeah. That was random. I have nothing against the idea of eating breakfast as long as it's not like, "YOU, EAT BREAKFAST, OR DIIIEEEE" as a canon of healthy cereal is pointed at my mouth.

...Mm, cereal canon.

Ah, Kathy reminded me of something: food snobs. Do you know any? I don't. I mean, none who are my friends, because we wouldn't make good friends. I guess there are a lot of food snobs out there, who probably wouldn't read this blog because I highly doubt I'm a food snob, thus I won't have to encounter them. I can't eat with food snobs; it ain't fun. I wouldn't want to go to a concert with a music snob either. Hipsters, oh jesus! (Ooh, I don't hate hipsters. I just don't know any. I assume that I don't know any because we don't make good friends, thus...they don't like me. Thus...other things.) What is the food equivalent of a hipster? Do I really want to know?

Snob is such a weird word. Spelled backwards, it's "bons". ...Yeah, I'm sorry for lowering your IQ by a few points just now.

I have a bunch of things to review. Um. Another time. When it's not 2 AM.

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Addendum: After taking a shower, I've come to the conclusion that my intestinal area is in its first trimester and may possibly be used as a floation device.

Check out these great Overheard In New York-isms:

The Five Basic Food Groups

Guy: Why do they put peas in the fried rice? Peas and carrots? I don't want that in my fried rice.
Girl: Because it's vegetable fried rice.
Guy: That's what the egg is for.
Girl: Egg is not a vegetable. Wait...What is it? Dairy? It should be meat, because if you let it go it will be meat.
Guy: I think it's produce.

--LaGuardia

Wow.

Wednesday One-liners Lunch Hour

Chick: Oh my god, yeah. Like, donuts are fried and so are beignets. Oh! And potato chips are fried, too. They're really bad for you.

--Cookshop, 10th Avenue

I don't know why that's funny, but it is. Oh yeah, those foods cooked in bubbling scorching hot oil are really bad for you. I should care more about those things.

HAHAHA! I want a beignet.

[Warning: This is yet another food porn-less, non-review entry where I random about random crap. I know this isn't nearly as interesting or helpful (or saliva-inducing) as the food porn or reviews, but I'll get back on track later.]

Whoa, you guys really did click on the links. I made more moolah today than...um...ever. Well, on ads. I have to admit that I feel bad; I used you for your collective mouse clicking power. I haven't made enough money to actually get paid (you need to hit $100, methinks, and I may not reach that for another year unless I have periodical "CLICK EVERYTHING!" days), but if I do I'd love to donate it to a worthy food-related cause. If you have any suggestions, leave a comment.

After a most awesome morning of waffles that shall get its own entry later, I returned to my dorm for doom-filled snacking. I don't keep snacks around because I'll eat them. Yes, I know the point of having food around is to eat them, but I seriously do not buy junk food that would count as something I shouldn't eat in one day (as in, containing more than a few servings). Sometimes Japanese snacks sneak past this restriction, but they're Japanese snacks; they can do whatever they want. Enter my kitchen, clog my veins, pillage small towns--you name it.

I went home yesterday where my mum reminded me of the package of Tim Tam Double Coat that had been sitting on my portable record player (which I use for all those times I need to play a record, which hovers around "never") since...um, the summer. In addition to a package of regular Tim Tams, Bowb gave these biscuits to me in exchange for some Poofy wares. I can actually grant you some food porn:

Tim Tam innards

If you're wondering (but you probably aren't), I bought a large pink posterboard for the purposes of food photography. Next up: get some decorative plates/napkins so that Kleenex isn't my only option.

So...I've had these biscuits for--[looks at watch]--a while. The package said they expired in January. Haha, expiration? I laugh at expiration dates! (Unless it's something like meat or any highly food-born-illness prone food. Um.) No way these cookies expired! I brought the unopened pack back to my dorm last night and tried one. Or two.

[crunch] "Still good."

Today I ate four. Or five. You know you're in trouble when you lose count. No, I haven't looked at the (lack of) Nutrition Facts because this is one of those instances where I just don't want to know.

Conscience: "You ate four cookies."
Me: "Yeah, they were tasty."
Conscience: "Don't you feel bad about it?"
Me: "Uh...kinda...but they were tasty."
Conscience: "Do you have any idea what kinds of processed sugars and hydrogenated fats you just ate? And, my god, it already expired!"
Me: [stabs conscience with a fork]

On top of the Tim Tams, Jess gave me a pack of Orgran Choc Chip Biscotti among other things in a food trade (again, for a Poofy; lookit the happy couple!). Oh, so many cookies died at the hands of my gastric fluids. Since the cookies are free of wheat, gluten, dairy, egg, and casein, I can't say they taste anything like regular chocolate chip cookies, but they're pretty good as...um, something kinda sweet and cookie-esque, hence why I ate a bucketload of them.

On top of all that eating, this is the first day in weeks that I haven't taken the subway anywhere, as in I've stayed within a one-mile radius of my dorm, most of it spent inside my dorm, which is where productivity gives up and gruesomely dies like a salted slug. I tried to work on an anthropology paper, but it hates my guts. Reading the material over and over does nothing except increase my hatred towards dead European anthropologists and the courses that require me to interpret what they're saying, a difficult feat when you just don't give a crap.

Um. Anyway. I have a point to this entry, somewhat.

Hungry Planet

I haven't finished this book yet, but it's awesome. AWESOME. You need this book. You will love this book. BUY IT NOW. I stamp it repeatedly with my approval. [stamp stamp stampy stamp]

...Okay, you need more information. The book profiles families all over the world and describes what they eat in detail along with recipes, essays about food, and the best part of all: photos. Lots of great photos. Every section starts off with a photo of the family situated in their house around all the food they consume in one week. A Mexican family had a gazillion liters of Coke and a Greenlandic family had...BABY SEAL! This stuff fascinates me.

It also disturbs me. Flipping through the photos and seeing spreads of fruit and vegetables reminded me that I haven't been eating much of these lately. Food doesn't just nourish the soul my sugar addiction, but it actually keep us alive!...unless you're living on ramen and Pop Tarts, in which case it's probably doing the opposite. I ate a persimmon today; do I get a gold star? Seriously, I am eating so much unhealthy stuff to the point that I'm kiiinda worried. It's hard to believe I was ever militantly opposed to eating "unhealthy" food when today I eat just about anything. Maybe the self-imposed restriction had something to do with that.

Unless we're obese or have major health problems, we're likely to encourage eating. It's fun! It's okay to indulge! It probably wasn't a good idea for me to eat four Tim Tams (and I might eat more before the day is over), but I think my mum would be the only one to exclaim, "Robyn, what is WRONG with you? You are not my daughter." (We don't really look alike. We're about the same height, but I could crush my mum. BECAUSE I WEIGH A LOT MORE, in case you needed clarification.) Obviously I'm not going to excessively Tim Tam myself again anytime soon, but...[mumble]...food...

...Yeah, that thought ended prematurely.

Oh, I was disturbed! Right. I'm disturbed by all the crap I eat...but it's so fun. I try to resist the innumerable combinations of fat, refined sugar and complex carbohydrates, but then they poke in the eyes with really hot, pointy poking tools, and it's hard to ignore the searing pain of having your cornea infiltrated by really hot, pointy poking tools, so I give in while cupping my eye sockets and thinking, "You tasty bastards!" (Yeah, I know that last sentence made no sense whatsoever. I think it was "metaphorical". Or "insane".) I wish I could say that a simple banana would curb my dessert craving, but it would only fulfill my need for fruit. I'd still like a cookie, laden with butter or something butter-esque.

On that note, I'm going to bake cookies either tomorrow or Monday night (and to answer the same question I keep getting over and over again: chocolate chip and snickerdoodle). I've never baked cookies in my dorm before. Why am I baking cookies? If they come out un-horrible, I will tell you later. And I'll share em! Virtually.

And for a somewhat related question: Does anyone know where I can buy plastic bags to package cookies in? I mean, like the kind you can buy in stores, such as Dancing Deer cookies? Anywhere I could buy them in Manhattan, perhaps...um, tomorrow or Monday? I probably should've thought about this earlier.

Saturday morning my alarm went off at 9:15. Snooze button alert.

[snooze]

At 9:45 I stirred and realized I didn't put my alarm back on. It's amazing that I can actually wake up without an alarm, sending me into a hyper "OMG I HAVE TO CHANGE INTO CLOTHES SUITABLE FOR THE OUTSIDE WORLD TO SEE ME IN AND PEE AND DO OTHER STUFF REALLY QUICKLY" mode. I actually didn't have to be in the lobby to go to brunch until 10:15, but I'm slow. Very slow. Trust me; we're all surprised I even got into college.

Smorgas Chef

Bryan Waterman, one of my dorm's faculty residents, and his wife, Stephanie, took Patricia and me out for brunch at Smorgas Chef. It was a very generous way to get us more acquainted with the dining choices around the Financial District (although sadly, Patricia and I are moving to different dorms next semester...which means we'll have to discover more food) and was probably the first time I got a good meal on NYU's dime. The Watermans are some of the most awesome people we've ever met, so naturally our brunching (yeah, I know that's not a real word, but has that ever stopped me from verbifying nouns before?) was awesome. Besides good food, you need a foundation of awesome people to have an enjoyable meal. Admittedly, milkshakes don't hurt either...becausethey'reawesome...

I'll get a larger vocabulary someday.

Smorgas Chef's brunch menu includes omelets and "Scandia Benedicts" in addition to their regular menu of sandwiches, salads, and meat-based entrees. While I think chicken eggs are pretty cool (they're my favorite kind embryo), waffles always win. Why? You don't question the waffle. They automatically win, just like Chuck Norris.

waffles with fruit, waffles with less fruit

I ordered the fruit waffles and Patricia got the vanilla waffles. The vanilla waffles came with either maple syrup or cloudberry sauce (I have no clue what a cloudberry is) while the fruit waffles came with either ice cream or fruit. As you can see, I went with the healthier option, but god knows I was tempted to eat ice cream for brunch.

On retrospect, I probably should've taken advantage of the option. It wouldn't be acceptable to eat ice cream by itself first thing in the morning, but put it on a waffle and it's automatically okay. I TOLD YOU THAT WAFFLES WERE MAGICAL! They've contorted all that we know about what's appropriate to eat in the morning and allow us to indulge in things that you probably shouldn't eat at any time of the day. Here is my simple waffle eating guide:

Scoop of ice cream: Not okay.
Scoop of ice cream on top of a waffle: Okay!
Bowl of whipped cream: Not okay.
Bowl of whipped cream on top of a waffle: Okay!
Scoop of ice cream topped with whipped cream: Not okay.
Scoop of ice cream topped with whipped cream on top of a waffle, then deep fried and dusted with confectioners sugar with a drizzle of chocolate fudge, served by a penguin: Dude...what?
.
..
...I mean, OKAY!

Alas, I just got fruit. But it was good! Apple, pear, strawberry, and blueberry were artfully arranged on top of the double stacked waffles. I've rarely had flat Scandinavian-style waffles before as most places seem to have foot-tall Belgium variety, but I like this style. It's like a pancake, but slightly crispier and with pits. Acutally, it's not really like a pancake. ...They're both round, okay?

innards!

The moment none of you have been waiting for: innards! Waffle-y innards! Shortly after taking this photo, I ate the whole thing. Not that you'd expect anything else from me.

the eggs are gonna splode

For those of you who like bulging eggs, this is your place. They didn't actually explode with geysers of yolk, but they looked like they might. No, wait, they did explode... with flaaaavooor. What kind of flavor? Scandinaviaaa. ...Okay, I have no idea what these tasted like since I didn't eat them, but I think Bryan finished the whole thing, which is a good sign. Stephanie finished off her Hamlet (omelette with roasted ham, asparagus, wild mushrooms & tomatoes) and of course, my waffles had no chance of surviving. Patricia left behind some of her waffle stack, but I think she liked them. She just has...I dunno, a smaller stomach. (By the way, I need one of those.)

teapot

Stephanie's tea came in these cute, cartoon-y metal tea set. While it looks like the pot and cup would get too hot, they actually keep cool! Or something. I didn't touch them to confirm, but I don't think the set would be usable if they burned human flesh.

restaurant innards

Smorgas Chef may be a little pricey, but the environment is warm and cozy and the food is well prepared and satisfying without putting you into a food coma. Also, if you love Coldplay, you will just fall in love with this place and wanna have babies with it! We heard the same Coldplay song 10 times. Or 5. Or less. You know if you lose count you've heard it too many times. They also played Air and Yo La Tengo, among other things, so it was all good.

pick up orders, corner

Last Monday I went to Bouchon Bakery on opening day with Kathy; who else would accompany me to a gajillion course meal at a bakery?

SAMSUNG!...I mean, Bouchon Bakery

carbs...my favorite

While we considered eating at the full-service cafe with the looming SAMSUNG sign hovering above it, we opted for the take-out bakery because 1) it was cheaper and 2) it was cheaper. It was also more fun because we got to talk to the fooding queen (and coolest person who works at Bouchon), Sarah. What did we eat? WHAT DIDN'T WE EAT?

the first course

Kathy started with a small brioche while I went the more gluttonous route of a banana muffin and pecan sticky bun. Everything was awesome. That's pretty much what I'm going to say for the rest of the entry, if you'd rather stop here. Considering what a time waster it is to read this blog, you should probably be doing something more important right now. Do you know where your kids are? Maybe you should check on them. Don't have kids? Pretend that you do and that by reading this blog, you're neglecting them.

Oh, the food! The brioche was pretty much perfect; light, airy, eggy, tasty. The sticky bun consisted of layers of soft dough smooshed with thick caramel. However, my favorite was the muffin, which had a perfectly uniform crumb and, for lack of a better description, a very distinct, ripe banana flavor. I'd say it was the best banana muffin I ever had and would've only been better if it had nuts and a crispy top. However, those are just personal preferences. Maybe you hate nuts and crispy tops...in which case you're insane.

pastries and more pastries

After we finished our first course, we went back for more. You would do the same, unless you're...sane or something. Luckily for Bouchon Bakery, Kathy and I are not.

Paris Brest

Kathy opted for the Paris Brest, a cream filled bicycle-wheel shaped pastry named after the French city, Brest, in honor of the bicycle race that took place there. This must be a popular dessert as I've seen it in French and French-obsessed Japanese bakeries alike, but neither Kathy nor I liked this very much. Although we give the impression that we love all things sweet and carby, this type of pastry doesn't fall into that sphere. Neither of us are very into cream puffs. My problem with airy puff pastry (I like the buttery, layered kind better) is that it's...airy. A shell. A shell with stuff in it, stuff I'd rather eat without the shell. I'm sure this is a good Paris Brest, but it's just not my kind of pastry.

apple tart things

I'm not very into apple tarts either, but this caught my eye. Sarah hadn't tried it yet, so it was up to Kathy and me to rate its deliciousness.

apple tart innards

I don't know the exact description from the Bouchon Handbook, but the tart has some kind of meringue-based top layer over thinly sliced apples in an apple-sauce coated tart shell. Does that sound good to you? Well...IT IS. I'm not going to poetically describe every aspect of the dessert, but it was great. Buttery crust filled with apple processed in two different ways! Eat it now.

last course

Yes, there is a last course. We though it would be a good idea to eat something that wasn't sugar based, hence the sandwich. The ham and cheese sandwich with sweet butter and dijon mustard spread was fine, but not mind blowingly good. I think sandwiches need to be fresh and preferable hot with gooey, melty cheese to be awesome. Ah well. The lightly lemon-flavored madeleine was fine, although for whatever reason I'm not a big fan of madeleines, so I can't adequately rate it. (My mom on the other hand loves them, along with the similar financier. Our incongruous preferences come in handy as we'll never eat each others pastries.) We would've preferred more filling in the caramel macaron, but it was definitely something I'd want to eat again. You'd have to eat it to know what I mean, but the caramel taste was just...so light and pure tasting. Hell, I don't even know what that means.

I think we each spent around $20 to share these eight items. Yeah, eight is a lot, but we split everything! THAT MAKES IT OKAY. I don't think I could eat four full-sized things yet sharing eight things was perfectly fine. ...Okay, I probably could eat four full-sized things, but I'd get sick of them more easily.

My god, this entry was long. I shouldn't update this site for a while since I'm supposed to be doing homework. That's why I'm in NYC, right? To learn? And get graded on how well I'm able to retain stuff? Or pretend that I can?

I updated my livejournal before this blog. Yes, you may gasp. [gasp] So here's my warning: this entry might be weird and deviate from 110% foodie-ness. I started a food blog because, frankly, what else is there in my life? School (which is still food related)? Sleep? ...Um, I'm running out of subjects, folks. If I had pets, I'd probably have a pet-blog. Be glad that I don't. Food is personal, but since this is a public blog I don't think I ever write anything too personal. Just personal enough to keep your attention, perhaps, and give you a clear idea of what I'm like beneath the everyday paranoia and asocial tendencies that most of the world sees. Either that, or the food porn. (Yeah, I know you want the food porn.)

Alas, I have a music blog to document that other, less passionate (but longer lasting) obsession. For better or worse, food and music aren't related. It's a joy to find anyone who loves music and fooding as it's usually just one or the other. Sometimes I like music more than food (music = no calories), other times food more than music (food = I don't have to stand for 5 hours in a sea of sweaty people). However, I actually have a mildly food and music related thing to talk about. Very mildly.

chocolate chip cookie

snickerdoodles, innards

If you've been around this blog for a while, you know that I don't cook much. I can cook, but living in NYC where a random street vendor could probably cook better than I can doesn't make me want to break out the knife skillz (or lack thereof). Besides cooking, I bake even less. Baking leads to excess baked goods, which leads to my overconsumption of excess baked goods, which leads to my onset of Type II diabetes, etc. So why did I make those chocolate chip cookies and snickerdoodles (which, while having made me sick after eating them in the quantity of "a crapload", I hope are making your mouth water)?

Something from the Oven

I wasn't sure. Then I read Something From the Oven for my food history class and it talked a bit about the meaning of baking. It's symbolic of care, love, and comfort. "Betty Crocker says: A gift you bake is a gift from the heart." No, DUH...I guess I could've figured that out. Baking (in the sense of cakes and pies) is not very Asian, so it's not something I'd say I grew up with.

I baked the cookies for Even Johansen (a.k.a, Magnet) and David �sheim (a.k.a. the guy who tours with Magnet and does the electronic stuff), two of my most favorite people/music artists who I highly recommend, although Magnet more so because his music is somewhat mainstream and, unlike David's, you can actually find it in the US. I wouldn't expect anyone to know who they are (when people do, I'm really surprised), but that I baked for them and spent time I could barely afford to spend means that they're rather dear to my heart. I must not blog this piece of info much (with enough Internet searching, people could put two-and-two together) because sometimes people get confused when I tell them that I'm the webmaster for homeofmagnet.com. Basically, I've had a fansite for years and at some point the official powers asked me to do the ...real one.

Okay, back to the cookies: they're pretty damn good. I've probably baked cookies less than a handful of times in my life, but cookies are freakin' easy to make! It's hard to mess up if you have a good recipe. The easiness factor was another reason I made them, aside from the symbolism that I was unaware of. (My thought was, "WHO THE HELL DOESN'T LIKE COOKIES?!") The chocolate chip cookie recipe is called Best Big, Fat, Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookie. I wouldn't say it's fat, as you can see from the photo, but they're big and chewy. I cut the chocolate down to 1 cup because I don't like eating a chocolate chip cookie that taste more like chocolate than cookie, and the sugar to 1/4th cup because from my meager experience I've found that there's always too much sugar. (Yes, such a thing is possible.)

from above!

The batch made 16, 1/4th-cup-of-dough cookies. I think they tasted better on the second day after hardening up a bit (but still retaining chewiness!). I ate one shortly after taking it out of the oven and it was doughy-soft. Not bad, but not chewy either. Obviously, I've learned now not to eat cookies straight from the oven. Besides that they're still pliable, they're also likely to burn the delicate skin lining your mouth. Not that that keeps me from eating. "Mm, tasty...OW IT BURNS...but it's soo good...OH CRAP MY NERVE ENDINGS DIED."

a similar view from above

Despite that I had a million other things to do (for instance, it's nearly 3 AM and I have to finish one essay and start another), I decided to also make soft snickerdoodle cookies (of which my half recipe churned out about 24 of the 1-inch domey buggers). Indeed, these are soft, almost pillowy, and a bit fluffy. I didn't get to try any second-day cookies, but hopefully they still retain the moistness. While I wouldn't say that these are the best snickerdoodles I've had (I prefer the flat, chewy kind more, as opposed to this...not flat, not so chewy kind), they're certainly good and worth baking. They need more butter, maybe.

I wouldn't expect anyone to take my cookie baking advice seeing as I'm a complete amateur--not just at cookies, but baking in general--but I'd recommend both of these recipes. Methinks that my oven isn't as hot as it says though; I had to bake the cookies for much longer than the recipes said. My chocolate chip cookies bathed in heat for more than 20 minutes and the snickerdoodles, around 15 minutes. Oops. I was worried I'd burn them.

(breathe out) Ah yes, the cookie giving was a success. There's a much longer backstory to my cookie giving last night, but it's unrelated. It's just...at first I felt weird giving them cookies (some of my friends thought so too) because I didn't know what kind of message that would send. They're just cookies! Friendly cookies! Nothing more! ....or was it? Maybe I was trying to convey a deeper meaning? How many of you give gifts to music artists you like? And out of those gifts, would you give cookies? Couldn't that be seen as a health hazard?

three bags

NO! NO, THEY'RE JUST COOKIES. DELICIOUS COOKIES. Obviously I couldn't just thrust un-packaged cookies into their Norwegian arms, thus leading me to New York Cake Supplies on 22nd Street (which also led to a Shake Shack lunch that I'll have to talk about later) where for about $15 I got 100 cellophane bags and 80 twistie ties. That's a lifetime supply for me, pretty much. (By the way, I gave the third bag to Janet because she's awesome and had to endure a lot of awkwardness from me last night. Janet, I hope you like the cookies!)

I've actually given Even and David a bunch of random crap that I've made in the past. However, I've never made them food. I put work into the cookies, dammit; there's a bit-o-Robyn in them. ("Bit-o-Robyn": definitely not a hot seller in the snack category.) Wait, that's gross. Oh. Crap.

I was going to write something else, but I think I'm off to update the music blog. It's past 3 AM; I have to wake up in 5 hours. Then again, that's only if I go to sleep, as otherwise I can just stay up forever and want to kill myself. I don't drink coffee or ingest any comparable drug/food, so how do I stay awake? I dunno. I don't get the late night munchies and all I drink is water (and the occasional milkshake). However, I am listening to music. It's a good fuel and non-caloric to boot.

...Actually, to be honest I am so goddamn tired. I've been up for 20 hours straight, during which I've eaten an egg salad sandwich, two Tim Tams, a chocolate chip cookie, and a bunch of random foodstuffs from my Food Science and Technology lab. Good times. Let's hope I don't screw my body chemistry up too much.

[Final note if you've made it this far: the next entry will be better. Sorry.]

[Another note: I love receiving emails to death, but if you don't hear from me in a few days, it's not because I didn't get your email (although I suppose it's possible), but because I haven't gotten around to answering it yet. I feel bad when I can't reply right away, but I'll do it eventually!]

[Last point, really. On retrospect, this entry isn't very music related. I gave them the cookies after a show they played last night, but I didn't even get to see the show. That's a whole other long, sad non-food related entry. I guess what I did was show a love for music with food. I've actually wanted to do it the other way around, in which I'd show my love for food with music and write a song about pancakes and waffles (and other delicious things). I know you're dying to hear that one. If not, there's always Beck's "Satan Gave Me A Taco", Weird Al's...um, he has a lot of food songs, and Of Montreal's "Pancakes For One". There's a list of food related songs out there, but I'm too lazy to get it.]

You know how you brush your teeth as soon as you've decided that you've eaten enough for the day to deter yourself from eating during the time you shouldn't be eating (like around...[looks at watch]...now) because god forbid you brush your teeth twice in one night? Just agree with me.

Well. That didn't work. The night seemed to progress as it should--I brushed my teeth and all was fine. My body didn't need any more food and I wasn't especially hungry. Then I passed out on my bed for a while, woke up, and decided that 11 PM would be a good time to finish off the last of the Bouchon Bakery muffins Sarah had so thoughtfully saved for me.

[pats belly] This must stop. Not the free food, but the random eating. You know how I periodically update you on how much of my arm has converted into Jell-O? My arm is not only turning into Jell-O, but the parts that have already turned into Jell-O are generating more layers of Jell-O, seemingly from thin air. I know everything comes from something else, but maybe it's divine Jell-O...from another dimension. An evil dimension. Owned by Kraft.

If you're wondering, no, I haven't been getting enough sleep. Tuesday night resulted in a grand total of zero hours, Wednesday afternoon maybe an hour, Wednesday night a couple of hours, and Thursday night about three, which actually seemed excessive by that point. Today I got a few little power naps in between eating and trying to read blogs and answer emails after getting back from work and roaming around for foodstuffs at 6 PM. After my sleep deprivation this week, which is worse than any other sleep deprivation I've ever had (oh, I've stayed up really late before, but usually with the idea that I could make it up the next day, as opposed to this past week where I've just had to wake up in the wee hours of the morning every day), I can safely say that it's a really bad idea to stay up forever, even if you think you can. The result will be incomprehensible notes and squiggles in Anthropology class and getting whiplash from jerking your head up repeatedly when your brain inevitably drifts off every 5 seconds. (I actually apologized to one of my professors for this, to which he jokingly replied that I should drink coffee.)

Besides the lack of sleep, I've just had other things on my mind (if you know me well enough outside the foodie sphere, you probably know what I'm thinking about...and what music I'm listening to right now). Yes, things that aren't food related. It rarely happens, so my mind's as blown away as yours. That it rarely happens is probably a sad reflection of my life; I'll admit to that little else happens. A few days ago a student interviewed me about my blogging habits and my feelings about Internet anonymity related things, but I didn't realize until now (apologies to the interviewer) that there is actually plenty I wouldn't want to write about (in a public blog, that is). In some cases, the most basic, serious emotions are the ones I don't want to put out for everyone to read, but that's not always true. Also, I wouldn't want to write about things that I don't think would have any value to anyone else. Disregarding everything you've read so far in this entry (if you are reading the food porn-less sections--no offense taken if you don't), I use my food blog mainly to write things that I hope would be useful other people. "Eat this muffin! Eat at this restaurant. But not this one. And yes, I eat out of the trash."

Anyway. ...TIME FOR THE USEFUL STUFF!

uncrowded!

Shake Shack is notorious for long lines of crazed burger fans foaming at the mouth for made-to-order, moist meat patties. Or something. The crowd was sparse last Monday because they opened a day earlier than their publicized opening date. One office guy in front of me was really excited:

"I love this smell...ohh...how I missed these burgers."

I couldn't miss the burgers seeing as I had never eaten them before. While I've been by the Shake Shack many times, mainly during the summer when I'd walk from the Port Authority terminal to the School of Visual Arts on Monday nights for a class (say hello to my only exercise of the summer), I hadn't tried the infamous burger. The only thing I had tried was a concrete, which was disappointingly not very concrete-esque. A better name would've been "thin cement". Perhaps it was too hot that day.

shack burger, black and white shake

Since health is of little importance when dining at a place with the word "shack" in it (unless it's called "The Health Shack"...uh...right), I indulged in a Shake Burger (American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and SHACK SAUCE) and a black and white milkshake (half chocolate, half vanilla) for about $10. The friendly cashier gave me a $2 gift card, which will encourage me to indulge in more lactosey drinks later.

If you think this looks tasty, keep in mind that my germs are all over it

This burger is good. Is it "wait in line for an hour" good? Er...man, I'm lazy; few things are that good. Luckily, I had a very short wait for this small, but satisfying burger. You won't hear me say things like this very often, but the first and last bite left me thinking, "Whoa...that was good." My first bite was of buttery bread and crispy lettuce, while the last was of...meat. Moist meat. Beefy meat? Tasty meat? IT'S A FREAKIN' BURGER; I can only describe it so much. Oh, as for what I tasted in between, it was "all of the above", but I ate kinda quickly so I don't remember it very well. (Nope, still haven't mastered the art of chewing.) Every component was good, and for better or worse I couldn't taste much of the tomato. (I dislike tomato. Huzzah!)

I also highly recommend the shake, even if it's freezing and you have to wear gloves to prevent your fingers from getting frostbitten. Thick, sweet, and deathly make for a good shake. I considered getting the caramel flavor one, but I suppose I'll just have to try it next time.

Dodo

On Wednesday I went to Dodo for lunch, a little cafe-esque place on Peck Slip and South Street. Why would you ever be in this area? I have no clue. I happen to live around here, but I'd never even know that this place existed if I didn't pass it on the NYU bus. However, with a name like "Dodo", WHO CAN RESIST? What's up with the name? Their maninfesto reads:

Like the DODO which fell extinct from the earth because it was too kind, simple and good for the New World, DODO cafe stands out in its integrity, friendliness, and pure mission to feed people healthy, handcrafted food in an engaging, creative, and genuine environment. Wherever possible, local organic ingredients are used. Food is prepared onsite or with the help of local artisans using traditional craft.

inside

The interior is bright (well, if the sun is out) and warm due to the wooden furniture and decor. Kinda colonial and modern at the same time, if that makes any sense. And it probably doesn't since colonial furniture isn't my forte. The environment lends itself to hanging out (and they have wi-fi, so I don't think they mind people lingering), as demonstrated by the other customers there...hanging out. However, I was there alll aloooone, so my purpose was just to eat and not do the socialization thing.

veggie sammich

I ordered a roasted vegetable panini on sourdough bread (organic sun-dried tomato, cheese spread & organic spinach) since I felt like I needed something containing a vegetable. Sandwiches come with a side of mixed greens or fruit salad. And altogether, they come on what I thought was a too-large plate. Sure, I don't want my sandwich flopping over the side of the plate, but I felt like the plate dwarfed my food. The sandwich, it's...it's shrinking!

Nah, I just ate it quickly. The sandwich was alright, but for some reason I was disappointed. It tasted good and it wasn't something I'd be likely to make myself, but...I don't know. Maybe it was the bread, which wasn't bad either, yet disagreed with me. Bread is uber important to me when it comes to sandwiches--it's more crucial for the bread is good than the fillings. So what was up with this bread? I don't knoooow. There probably wasn't anything "wrong" with; rather, I'm just not used to that kind of sandwich bread.

I don't think I can rate Dodo based on one sandwich. My first impression was that it was kind of pricey for what they give you, but after reading their manifesto, perhaps they just use better ingredients than most places. Their menu includes salads, COOKIES!!!, less-great-than-cookies type pastries, soup, wine, beer...it's small and diverse at the same time. I can't say any of the food is stuff I typically eat anyway, but from what I gather, many people like sandwiches. And beer.

Crosby Connection

On Thursday I went to Crosby Connection for a quick lunch...and yes, by this point I figured, "Hell, I'm eating craploads of sandwiches so I may as well continue the theme, as I may never repeat it again." This slight-larger-than-a-hole-in-the-wall has a nice selection of sandwiches, which I could see the two employees making inside (because it was like..a foot away from me) and neatly wrapping in paper for us to take away.

the avocado brie dill, teeth marks

After staring at the menu long enough for it to have adequately burned itself into my skull, I went with the avocado brie dill sandwich, consisting of "avocado, brie cheese, honey mustard, sweet roasted peppers, sundried tomatoes, red onions, topped with fresh dill". I've never even heard of that kind of sandwich before (not that I'm paying much attention to the sandwich world) and remembering my love of avocados in a previous life (just a few years ago, really), I went for the fat-bomb fruit of deliciousness, coupled with...bovine fat-bomb deliciousness and other things. For $5, this is a freakin' sweet sandwich. The only thing I would object to is the raw onion component since raw onions leave me feeling with a pungent onion-gassed feeling all day long (caramelize those suckers). Otherwise...SO TASTY! Fresh dill! Mooshy cheese! Fat-tastic avocado! And other stuff! On bread that doesn't gouge the roof of my mouth! Ahh, happiness.

Alidoro

Behold, for we have come to the end of the "eating stuff in between two slices of something wheat-based" week. Yesterday for lunch, I met up with Mike of Twenty Bucks a Day for sandwiches at Alidoro, one of his favorite sandwich places. While I've passed it many times (the first time i noticed it was in the summer when the had a tempting looking gelato case...oooh), I almost walked past it until Mike noticed that I was...um, walking past it. OBSERVANT, I AM NOT.

waiting

If there's anywhere else ordering a sandwich while you're there, you may have to wait a while. It worked out fine for me since I had no idea what to get from their menu of sandwiches that mainly contained mozzerella, some kind of cured meat, sweet peppers, arugola, and sun dried tomatoes in a gajillion combinations (even more if you factor in the six types of bread). It's like looking at a pizza menu that lists everything as having mozzerella and tomato sauce, plus a few small differences. Since I'm mega-indecisive, I decided to go with the Max Special of sardines, sun dried tomatoes, and M. Bel Paese (a soft cheese); unless I didn't look carefully, it was the only sandwich with sardines. Alas, when it was my turn to order...

"Sorry, we don't have any sardines."

Doh! My plan was thwarted. Mike went with the Cortino special (speck, provolone, dressing, and arugola) and I went with the other special, Il Capitano with tuna (mozzerella, Italian baby onions, sweet peppers, olive paste, and arugola), both sandwiches on semiolina bread. After watching the guy behind the counter carefully layer the crapload of ingredients in the semolina log, I was presented with a GINORMOUS SANDWICH OF DOOM.

sandwiches, I chomp on

Well, you definitely get your money's worth. The sandwiches are pretty big. Yeeeeah. Look at me stuff it into my mouth. Very becoming, yes? I make my mum proud.

Il Capitano, Cortina

I liked both sandwiches, but definitely enjoyed my Il Capinato more. Oh, of course we shared 50/50; it's a great thing about eating with people who love food. WE SHAARE! We can eat twice the variety in half the time!...or something like that. The mozzerella tasted so fresh and moist, like it was pulled fresh from a tub of curd water (mm, cuuurd waterrrr). I loved the baby onions, because I like onions and the idea of eating things that are babies, and ...um, all the ingredients tasted great, for lack of a better description (and there is always a lack). OH, THE SWEET PEPPERS! They were sweet. (nod) As someone who is very unfamiliar with Italian sandwiches, this one made me verrrry happy. The Cortina was good too, but flatter and not really as satisfying to me without the thick slabs of mozzerella. Still good though.

Many thanks to Mike for the tasty enjoyable lunching and introducing me to Alidoro! I'd definitely go back, whether for giant sandwiches or...um, individual servings of Nutella? Yeah, they sell those. It's for those times you just want a shot of Nutella. Dammit, who wouldn't want that?

Oh my god, this entry is finally over. Now I will to sleep for a stretch of time that extends beyond the length of a movie, and perhaps you will eat a sandwich? DO IT.

OH I lied, I have a final note. Many thanks to people who have emailed me lately with comments about my blog. I don't usually get many, but this week I've gotten a few and...that's sweet. For some reason, you've emailed me in unison. Maybe I have mind controlling abilities..."You shall email me now" [wiggles fingers]

...Probably not.

Is it sad that when deciding between studying for a test I have on Tuesday and updating my blog, I chose to...well, you see.

But before the food, I shall talk about "things I didn't eat but are still food related". You like that, right? No? Well, you'll just have to deal. Because. This is my blog. Bwahahahaaa.

Because I'm...you know, weird, I check Magnet's myspace profile a lot. The latest comment puzzled me: "Thanks for the cookies and the beers"...

...OH MY GOD, WERE THOSE MY COOKIES? The ones borne of my sweat and mixing abilities and lack-of-muscle power? Is it too presumptuous to assume that they were my cookies? I mean, it's totally cool if they were. Those cookies had to be shared; I can tell you from experience that eating all of them would've meant a certain doom, in the form of cookie hatred or a stomach ache. Maybe they weren't my cookies. ...Maybe they were my cookies.

...WHO CARES, WHO CARES, DOESN'T MATTER, JUST GONNA TYPE ALL IN CAPS NOW, YES, OKAY.

The Guardian has this little article about Marmite coming in squeezy tubes. This is important stuff, folks. We don't need to save the whales; we need to SAVE THE MARMITE JAR! The squeezy tube shall take over your Marmite! REBEL AGAINST THE SQUEEZY TUBE! But...hey, I have a squeezy tube of Vegemite (uh, that's similar, yes?) and I think it works pretty well. Sure, I dunno what non-squeezy tube Vegemite is, but the stuff that comes out of the tube is pretty...thick. And...um...

Sorry, I wrote that last paragraph just so that I could say "squeezy tube" a lot. I don't get to say "squeezy tube" very often because aside from toothpaste, nothing I own comes in a squeezy tube. Hey, wouldn't it be cool if honey came in a squeezy tube? I mean, nice gourmet honey? I know glass jars are swanky, but a squeezy tube would make my life easier. Then I wouldn't have to spend 5 seconds cleaning a spoon covered in a layer of honey, yeah?

By the way: squeezy tube squeezy tube squeezy tube squeezy tube squeezy tube squeezy tube squeezy tube squeezy tube

This article features a picture of a guy drinking Yakult. The only reason I ever drank Yakult was because I lived in Taiwan and people there drink Yakult. Yakult is a yogurty drink that comes in a bottle that's probably smaller than some species of cockroaches. Anyhoo, the article is about liquid meals. Or something. Is it ironic that even though I suck at chewing (I'm more of a chomp, then swallow person), I'm not a fan of liquids? Not enough effort is involved! Like damn, I just swallowed some pureed fruit concoction when all I had to do was EAT A DAMN PIECE OF FRUIT and masticate it with my own teeth. The only time I just felt like not chewing was that time when I was left to puke over the porcelain throne for a day.

Last article before moving onto the food porn: something about the death of cooking! This last line caught my eye:

And when you consider the appalling by-products of bad food and bad eating habits - widespread obesity, diet related diseases, social malfunction - we should not just count the cost to society, but to ourselves.

The emphasis is mine. Social malfunction. I have to admit, food has made me much more social, and my least social time was when I was a raw foodist and couldn't eat any normal food, and...oh, I think I just proved the point. I was a social anomaly at Vassar College for many reasons (I'm weird), but the "never going out to eat" thing was probably a bad idea. People would ask me if I wanted to go to the dining hall and I'd be like, "Oh no, I've got a stash of bananas in my room."

"Social malfunction"...man, that's a harsh term. It makes me feel like a robot. A rejected robot.

Lastly (yeah, I just said the other thing was last, but this is important): TASTES LIKE LATINO! Dude. Didn't anyone at one point on the Lays marketing team think that "Latino Style" may not have been the best idea? I mean...I get it, but still. Latino = hot peppers and salsa, hot damn!

---

Yesterday I went to Midtown with Jason (one of the few good friends I made at Vassar) who made a stop in NYC on his way back to school. He wanted to check out St. Patrick's Cathedral, so...we did. And then we were left to roam for food. I chose Chikubu, but alas, Chikubu did not choose me (wow, I feel a Pokemon reference coming on...I'll let it slide). As in, it was closed.

"Uh...crap."

"Uhhhh."

Wise words; we're full of em.

After staring at the many restaurants that line 44th Street between Broadway and...the other avenue, we came across Virgil's Real BBQ. I've never had BBQ in NYC, and if it has "real" in the title, IT MUST BE REAL! Or close to real. So BBQ, we ate.

sauce pump

I just thought that was funny. Or disturbing.

Since Jason is awesome, we decided to split two sandwiches. If you eat with me, be prepared to share your food. (Share it evenly, of course. I'm not gonna take half your sandwich and give nothing in return. What am I, some kind of glutton?...ohh...wait.)

fried catfish filet sandwich

Jason's fried catfish filet sandwich was awesome. Do you see the structure in that baby? It was impressive! Putting two layers of fried catfish on top of tomato and chopped lettuce could result in the catfish smooshing out due to the slippery nature of the tomato or lettuce (hasn't that ever happened to you?), but everything stayed snug in the bun. BUN-SNUG, IT WAS. I've never had a fried catfish sandwich before, so maybe it's my fault for not expecting juicy (really, I was surprised by the moistness), light, tender, crispy, lightly coated fried fish, but I didn't...and it was awesome.

pulled Carolina pork sandwich

I went with a pulled Carolina pork sandwich with a side of fries. Besides fries, you have the choice of coleslaw and potato salad (as seen in Jason's plate). Of course, I went for the more heart-clogging option. The fries were just alright, but at least earn extra points for obviously being from...real potatoes. That counts for something, yes? Righto.

innards!

Ah ha haaaa, pile of meat! Large, dense pile of meat! In wheat! (With feet! And Pete! And "something else that ends in "eat"!) Not having anything to compare this to, I'd say this is a very enjoyable sandwich. I would describe what BBQ sauce tastes like, but...well, I can't. So actually, I wouldn't. And hopefully you already know what it tastes like (kinda sweet, kinda tangy, kinda like bbq sauce, because that's what it is). The pork was uber-tender and sauced, although it could've been a little more moist. It wasn't really juicy, just...sauced. Know what I mean? Despite the tad dryness of the meat, I'd still say this is worth getting. If you like to eat dense piles of meat stacks.

By paying $15 each, we ended up leaving a pretty hefty tip. Our waitress was nice though and the food was satisfying without making us feel like we were going to keel over from pork overdose. Good times.

Poseidon Bakery

After our late lunch, we took a quick stroll to Poseidon Bakery on 9th Avenue. I'm too lazy to write anything in depth, so I'll just shove photos in your face.

greek stuff!

Poseidon Bakery has a lot of stuff, as you can see. Besides all the sweets, they have savory things, which I ignored. Haha.

flogera, afali innards

I got a flogera (milk, butter, egg custard, sprinkle of nuts and honey) and an afali (pistachio filled pastry, bergamot flavored syrup), which the woman neatly wrapped in saran wrap after drizzling sweet syrup on top and tucking it into a small paper box. Flogera is pretty good. Afali? Not so good. It was very dense with...stuff. At some point while attacking it with my fork and trying to just eat the filo pastry instead of the dense stuff inside, I realized, "Hey, I don't have to finish the whole thing!" An amazing revelation, eh?

Today I stayed in my room all day and lived off more throwaways from Bouchon Bakery that Sarah hand-delivered to my room. Sweet. I'm the epitome of laziness.

Press Toast

On Monday I went to Press Toast for a sandwich. A part of me kept going, "You want to go back to Crosby Connection! You want soft foccacia bread stuffed with stuff! You want a brownie!" But then another part of me went, "You should try something new! If you don't, you'll be doing your readers a disservice. And maybe you'll find something you like. Or maybe you'll hate it. Well. Stop talking to yourself." I had actually been to Press Toast before (they have since upgraded from a tiny hole-in-the-wall to a slightly-larger-hole-in-the-wall), but all I got was a honey and banana sandwich. Perhaps it was time for something of the non-sweet variety.

avocado toast

It's called Press Toast because their sandwiches are pressed and toasted; fascinating, yes? The avocado comes with mayo, swiss cheese, and za'atar. I couldn't vouch for the za'atar's presence since I had no idea what it was, but the other stuff is there.

innards

Gooey melted cheese and mooshed avocado smushed out of the warm, crispy, soft bread. Oh. Boy. I love me some cheese globs. I would just eat a plain cheese sandwich, but I figured avocado offered some good fat. Then again, the mayo probably cancelled out any of the health giving properties. Overall, my press toasted sandwich of warm mashy avocado and cheese was awesome in tastiness and price ($4). Hopefully I'll go back again soon.

avocado sammich

Look, more 'cado! While I always thought Panya's sandwiches looked good, I was never compelled to try one. My avocado and sandwich kick led me to try their avocado sandwich, which as you can see is really like 75% of a sandwich. I mean, it's half of a double-layered sandwich. Is that odd? I don't know. I thought one sandwich would consist of both halves, but apparently it doesn't. Anyway, it was a good thing that it was only half of the sandwich because when I was done with it, I felt like I had been impregnated with an avocado brick. I know that makes no sense, but it doesn't have to...this is my blog and I do not claim to make sense.. 'Cado brick. In mah belly. Sitting. Waiting. Not digesting as comfortably as it should. I thought the walnut bread was great, but there wasn't enough non-avocado substance (in this case, lettuce, thinly sliced cucumber, and tomato slices) to cut through the neatly layered avocado chunks. Cheese would've helped. Melted cheese. In warm, globby form. Oh well.

Lenny's

But that night's sandwich (yes, I'm still eating the damn things) redeemed the impregnanting avocado brick. I went around the corner of my dorm (which I rarely do; seriously, I don't know what the hell is behind there) to Lenny's, a chain of delis in NYC. While there weren't many customers actually inside at the time, employees were busy packing bags and delivery boys constantly filed in an out. My interest in Lenny's developed after one of my friends kept praising its awesome sandwiches. Once I went there with her while she was picking up dinner.

"Robyn, you know you want it."
"Eh, I'm not really a sandwich person."
"How can you resist? IT'S SOO GOOOD."
"Ehhhhh..."

She got a sandwich piled high with roast beef. I'm not a big fan of roast beef. What am I a fan of?

meatloaf sandwich of doom

When I walked out of Lenny's, my first thought was, "...Why the hell did I get a meatloaf sandwich? I've never even eaten a meatloaf sandwich before." When I got back to my dorm and unwrapped the meatloaf log, I saw that I had made the right choice. Juicy slabs of meatloaf topped with melted cheese, crisp lettuce, caramelized onions, gravy, and future atherosclerosis. So delicious. With better bread this would've been even more delicious, but I won't complain since it was nicely toasted. Structurally, this sandwich held up really well; nothing splodged out and the sauce didn't make things too soggy. You get a hearty portion for about $8, which I honestly found daunting at first, but soon realized wasn't when I ate the whole damn sandwich in seemingly 15 seconds. I wasn't even hungry. Seriously, I went for the sake of telling you lovely humans that Lenny's makes a yummy meatloaf sandwich, not to quel my nonexistent hunger.

As for hunger...yesterday in my "Food and Nutrition in a Global Society" class we watched a documentary called "Waiting" about people in Sudan patiently waiting for food that was basically sitting right in front of them to be distributed by nonexistent officials as the people starved. In the end, the people may or may not have gotten the food since enemies took over the village on the same day that officials finally came in to distribute the food. It was painful. Of course, by the end of the day I had forgotten about the starving, skeletal, distended-stomached Sudanese and stuffed myself with more food than most of those people would ever seen in their lifetimes. Eating is...a weird subject. It's a given that we can eat just about whatever we want. No one will ever starve in America unless it's a conscious decision or if the person is so isolated that no one else notices.

I wish I could feed everyone.

...Someone needs to take my cake. I'll describe it later.

Note: I was way too tired to adequately write this entry. Crap. What's done is done. What you SHOULD do is check out Kathy's latest post about Patisserie Claude. I don't care if you're busy (actually, if you're reading my blog you're probably killing time); click that link and read the whole thing. You might get a tear in your eye. Or feel something in your soul. It's probably the sweetest food blog entry I've ever read, a beautiful tale of pastry lovers. Enjoy. :)