Photo Dump: Food Adventures I

Let's talk food!  There is a LOT of choice to be had in NYC, and honestly, that doesn't really work for the benefit of the food adventurer.  Yelping and even asking most locals really doesn't lead you to culinary Nirvana (Vastly, locals are just like everyone else in the country: eating at Dominos and Chipotle).  There was a bit of a learning curve to tackling the massive culinary potential of this diverse city, but I found the common denominator to all my successful foodie finds: bilingual locals.  Ah yes, My favorite superpower strikes again. My bilingual friends: you are so damn awesome.

My first adventures involve bagels and coffee because I tend to be in Manhattan an hour before Larry's Band opens its doors.  I started at the Bread Factory, a common chain here, and if you get the bagels fresh, they are divine.  If not, they are dry and chewy.  That's a little inconsistent for Starbucks prices, but the scallion cream cheese spread is rumored to be the best in the city.  From my experience, this is in fact the case.  A better (at least more consistent) buy is found in the Fashion District's Best Bagels.  The true perk of this ever-packed hole in the wall was the truly best cup of coffee in my life.  I can't even explain it. There was no special equipment.  It just was.

 

The bread factory does spot an impressive assortment of confectionery delights.

Another common NYC chain is PAX, a pizza and lunch joint.  It's similar to Sbarro's, but clearly marks the calories of EVERYTHING.

 A few cooks doing their thing in the PAX kitchens.

 

 The hostel I stayed at warned guest to not consume food of a contraband sort: the notorious durian.

The East Village is by far becoming my favorite part of town.  There is art, hipsters, bodegas, coffee shops, food, and theater.  Oddity shops, crafty small businesses, and high-end second hand stores are EVERYWHERE, but my best find is the East Village Meat Market. I had actually been walking toward St Marks Pl, a self professed "Little Japan", to enjoy some east-coast sushi, but this store facade stopped me in my tracks:

 Behold its Glory.

 Dear God, I have made it through the wilderness and this is Paradise. 

 It was shoulder-to-shoulder crowded in this deli, and I was out of my element.  I had no idea what to do.  For a while I just allowed the sea of bodies to toss me around as I scanned the shelves of Mustard and Rye, refrigerators of caviar, and walls and walls of smoked meats.  Everything smelled so good.  I approached the counter and asked the fair-haired boy working there for something delicious.  He good-naturedly said that their kielbasa was the most popular item.

The best meal of my entire life only set me back $8.

I left the store with a cheese blintz, sauerkraut croquette, pierogis in sauteed onions, and a wedge of kielbasa.  They wrapped each item in butcher's paper and I escaped the through the wall of humanity back onto the quiet street.  The next task was finding a place to sit, enjoy a drink, and unwrap the spoils of battle.  A a chair is a hard thing to find in this city, so I walked up to a bar and asked if I could sit for a beverage.  Looking over the drink menu, I came clean with the bartender: "What it the cheapest, low-end beer in the bar?" 
"We have Bud Light for $7," she responded unblinkingly.  Obviously she did not understand the foul affront just uttered from her lips.  I gave up and sat on the steps of a church.  It truly was the best meal of my life.

Mitsuwa Japanese Market is within walking distance from Timour's place so I went out to do a little grocery shopping.  While I was there, I had to partake in some of the treats being served up in their HUGE food court.

 

 Taiyaki is a Japanese "cake" shaped like a fish, and I couldn't resist.  Here, the fine ladies of Mitsuwa pour the Taiyaki batter into shaped griddles.

  

 It's essentially a waffle filled with adzuki bean paste.

 I ordered a simple soba served with pickles and finished with my cute little Taiyaki!

 I am sad to announce that Little Italy is touristy, overpriced and nothing special.  It's like the Disney version of Italy.  Now this does not mean that you can't have the BEST Italian of your life while visiting here.  My best experience so far was at Pomodoro Pizza in Fort Lee, NJ (That's right, New Jersey).  It's so good that I've only been here a few weeks and I've eaten here twice.  I order their Ancona pie, a sauce-less pizza of fresh mozzarella, spinach, and garlic, dolloped with large pools of slightly-sweet ricotta. We have a new favorite.

 

 I could eat this pizza for ever meal if it didn't make you smell like garlic for hours (days) afterward.

Feeling a little indulgent, I end with a cannoli and espresso.  

When I get back to Dallas, I'm throwing an Italian dinner party.  I never make it because Dad is from New York and pasta dishes were all we ever ate growing up.  It was the first food I learned how to make, and I never found it as interesting as Thai or Japanese or even Mexican Food.  But here on the east coast, I see a lot of my Dad's "isms."  I realize that I have a lot of preferences in common with people here because they are his preferences.  It's very surreal because I never saw myself as urban, northern, or progressive-all the things I thought defined this city.  Either way, It's high time to give Italian cuisine a second shot.