Last weekend saw the first of hopefully many rooftop barbecues here in NY. I figured my mac n cheese would be a good portable and non-offensive potluck contribution. It wasn’t until my one vegetarian friend said he would be arriving late, that I reached over to the prosciutto I bought “just in case” and shredded it all over the dish last minute, making sure each bite would be as offensive as possible.

Continue reading ‘The Mac n Cheese Recipe With TMI’

is so that I can eat at 4 AM.

The best slice of pizza, drunk or sober.

bacon cheeseburger pizza

I wish I thought of that. Thick crust. SUPER crisp bottom. BACON.

Rosario’s Pizza

173 Orchard Street (corner of Stanton)

ny, ny, ny, ny

Cost: $2.25/slice

Now that I am part of the blog community, I’m supposed to promote myself shamelessly and request other bloggers within the blogosphere to “link me” and take me into their virtual arms.

Continue reading ‘LINK ME!’

Because a certain someone decided a certain day was certainly not the right day, I made the requested chicken curry not for him and I but for me and you. I realize you can’t eat it or smell it, but don’t worry. I ate your half as well. And it was quite delicious.

Continue reading ‘Rave Reviews’

I spent my weekend in Los Angeles and last Saturday was a hot summer day. And we were looking for something to cool us down. Swimming worked for a little while. We even tried water guns. But it just wasn’t enough. 

Continue reading ‘The 32st Flavor of the Month’

Just because you have no money, doesn’t mean you have to eat unhealthy!!!!

Continue reading ‘Simple Roasted Chicken’

Tasti D-lite is OK. It’s not as bad as I made it out to be. In fact, if my 70 calorie options were reduced to 14 large carrots or a cup of Chinese newspaper pulsated into a creamy blend of chocolatey goodness, I’d happily choose the latter. I’ve even succumbed to participate in Tasti Tuesdays at work. Not only have I sold my soul to the corporate chain, but I’ve sold my stomach as well. (sigh) What I do for free food sometimes…

I’m on the Jared Diet. Also known as the Subway Diet. The reasons are two fold as are the reasons of many Subway goers. I’m broke because I live in New York and getting a foot long sandwich for only $5 provides me with not one, but two lunches (unless someone in the night shift decides to EAT THE OTHER HALF). And it’s the closest thing I will ever get to a detox after a weekend filled with pizzas and take out.

Continue reading ‘And the Secret Ingredient Is…’

For a long time I argued you could get just as good food in LA as you could in New York. The only difference was how fast and how close it was to you. But other than that, the quality was still there. But I’m realizing after having been in New York for two months now, how much of getting “good food” is dependent on a restaurant’s service. There are those who could care less for service as long as the food is good (i.e. Soup Nazi). But I, for one, put service on a just as equal pedestal as the quality of food. I’d much rather spend my money at a mom and pop shop that offers me an experience than a chain supermarket with discounted prices and angry workers.

Before I go on to criticize the service I’ve experienced in New York, I’m only talking about non sit down restaurants. The restaurants where you order and pick up and pay at a register. I understand that the purpose of these types of restaurants is to serve those on the go and in a hurry to get out and that I probably shouldn’t be expecting 5 star customer service. But I’ve never met more angry cashiers as much as I have in NY. NY does have the responsibility of serving a greater ratio of customers by the minute than LA. And when you have 100 people in line, the last thing you care to say is, “you know, you really should go with the pumpernickel,” but it’s a crime to take away the pleasure of a meal from someone as obsessed with food as I am. I only get 3 opportunities in a day-I want to make them count dammit.

I’m finding myself screaming back at cashiers to, “HOLD ON” every time I get to the register. I have what feels like 5 pounds of coins in my wallet because it’s easier to throw them a 20 than fish for change in fear of being attacked. And I try my hardest to read the menus without entering the restaurant because I know once I step inside, I’ll have yelped a decision before realizing I just ordered pork chops at 2 pm. After having experienced any of the above, I am so hot and bothered, I regret the entire experience for a couple of hours.

While for the most part I get impatient just thinking about the slower pace of LA life, I miss the ability to casually walk in a restaurant without the rush of a million behind me. I miss being able to take 10 minutes to decide if the soup and salad will be enough until dinner or if I should go for the daily special (I mean, it might not even be there tomorrow!). Every day at lunch, I have to wait in a line long enough to be in an amusement park and have memorized my order with cash and change in one hand and my words in another so I can pass as a regular. I’ve gotten better at it and it has made me a more decisive person, but I relish the days when my mind could riffle through the endless possibilities and substitutions without interruption.

I know if I end up opening my own restaurant in the far, far future, I would never outwardly let them feel hurried and unwanted. I will let them peruse the shelves, over think what they’ll be eating, and even let them think about it on the toilet. But once they make their decision, I will of course have to let them know if they made the right decision or not. And perhaps suggest my daily special.

Continue reading ‘My New Toy’