The last time Kat and I found ourselves in the East Village on our way to Big Gay Ice Cream, we passed Veselka at the corner of 2nd Avenue and 9th Street. We both expressed desires to try the spot famous for serving Ukrainian food to the masses for the past 50 years. I made […]
I reward (bribe?) myself with food pretty frequently. The most recent deal I made with myself was that if I got up early on Saturday to do yoga in the East Village, I could go to Tompkins Square Bagels afterward. The quality of this reward definitely outweighed the small sacrifice of a few hours of sleep.
Sometimes I have an obsessive personality. In 7th grade, it was Beanie Babies. In 9th grade, it was ‘N Sync. So far this month, it has been the New York Magazine Cheap Eats issue. I’m talking OBSESSED. As in, I may have made my own spreadsheet with categories of Borough, ‘Hood, Cuisine, and what the magazine suggested to order there. If you are nice to me, maybe I will share, if you then promise to go to one (or several) of the establishments with me.
I’ve been dying to try out Big Gay Ice Cream for years but the moment was never right whenever I walked by. The moment *was* right on Monday. Aubrey, Emmy, and I celebrated Aubrey’s birthday at the West Village shop at Grove & 7th Ave – the original location is in the East Village on 7th St between 1st & A. When I arrived, I attempted to convince a French bulldog owner who was leaving to stay for a few minutes to surprise Aubrey, but the arrangement didn’t work out. What *did* work out was the ice cream situation I had in my hand minutes later.
The next continent I want to travel to is Africa. I have a craving for it like you wouldn’t imagine, but I am having trouble taking the plunge and actually planning a trip. This is mostly because of two issues – where within this huge continent do I go and will anyone accompany me there?
Last fall, I visited my friend Davesh in Amsterdam when he was living there. Over a drizzly weekend, we explored three cities in Belgium. For 48 hours, we lived on chocolate, frites, and waffles. There are several Belgian restaurants in New York City and many places to get Belgian waffles in particular, including one of my favorites, Wafels & Dinges, but for this Global Bites without the Flights feature, I’d like to focus on those frites.
The other night, Kater and I found ourselves in the East Village and decided to end our evening at McSorley’s Old Ale House. McSorley’s claims to have opened in 1854 – there are some disputes on the actual opening based on records of the building / census reports – but it *is* widely recognized as the oldest Irish Tavern in NYC. The bar had been on both of our to-do lists for ages and we were both surprised to find out that the other had not been yet either.
I am brilliant.
On Saturday night (okay, Sunday morning) I had the greatest hot dog I’ve ever had. Some friends and I were downtown after going out and went to a diner. We decided not to pay $12 for soup so we got up without ordering and walked out, in search of a pizza place. Instead, I remembered that we were right near Crif Dogs, which my coworkers have been telling me to try for about a year now.
10 miles behind me 