Does this need an explanation? I don’t think so. Here’s to hoping this cart outlasts the temporary summer lunch market at Madison Square Park.
I hate Times Square. While the bright lights are noteworthy, and can be mesmerizing (I begrudgingly admit), the throngs of slack jawed tourists staring blankly up into the sky or otherwise just looking lost make my blood pressure soar. They make me want to punch them in the face or yank their cameras and run. Normally a demure person, Times Square turns me into a hard-charging, elbow-throwing neanderthal, growling and hissing at innocent bystanders.
So I thought of it as a personal challenge when a friend suggested a visit to Taste of Times Square. Having worked in the area before, I was skeptical of the restaurants that would be presenting. Times Square isn’t exactly known for it’s culinary delights, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to subject myself to the uncultured masses, lines and other ridiculousness to eat a tiny plate from Hard Rock Cafe or Bubba Gump Shrimp Company. But a tiny voice said, “You’re so jaded. Just go! It’ll be an experience, if nothing else. You might be pleasantly surprised!”
So I get there and immediately have to stop myself from hyperventilating, freaking out and leaving when I enter the fray. I squeeze around, starving, and trying to see what’s on people’s plates, what looks good. The first thing I notice is the mob around the Virgil’s tent. When I worked in the Bryant Park area, I ordered a fried chicken po-boy from Virgil’s every Friday, so I was no stranger to it’s charms. However, I dodged the line my friends stood in and went for a dry-ish chicken sandwich from the Stadium Grill at Bowlmor Lanes (sparse on the condiments… the individual layers were good though). But not pic-worthy. I continued walking and became intrigued by the prospect of a raw oyster with creamy Guinness (yes, the beer) sauce on it. It was disgusting and a bad idea. I spit it out.
It was fun to see giant shrimp or anthropomorphic bowling pins in bibs dancing around to some pretty impressive blues music throughout the festival, but the best food by far was above 46th St. Toloache was serving up Tacos al Pastor spiked with pineapples and cilantro, Brasserie 1605 was serving up lobster potstickers with asian slaw, and there were two amazing desserts, a strawberry shortcake with some sort of fruit-mousse, and the killer, bananas foster cheesecake, which I was too full to actually eat. I think the cheesecake was from Ruby Foos. The shortcake was forgettable. But again, I could barely keep straight which restaurant was serving what between the music and the hungry throngs pushing each other around.
At 7:00pm, with one hour left, we realized that we were far too sober to be pushing through a bunch of sweaty tourists, so we made a detour to the $5 happy hour at Brazil Brazil on 46th. The caipirinhas needed extra sugar, but for $5 we didn’t complain. Two quick rounds, then we made our way back for the last of the festival. I had another plate of lobster potstickers (forgot to take pics, I was so busy gorging). The best part of the festival, though, was the lady hawking plastic ziplock bags for people to “take home” some of the food. We actually saw folks with entire bags of wings, ribs, etc. It would’ve never occured to me in a million years to bring ziplock bags to an event of this nature, much less sell them. But it’s that hustler ingenuity, the enterprising spirit of New York and it’s endless opportunities. It manifests itself in every nook and cranny of the city, from the darkest corners of a block to the penthouse suites of the same, all in pursuit of that nameless dream.
Reason #1 why I absolutely LOVE New York City.
San Diego is a quaint, not-so-little place. Forever in the shadow of its bigger and more glamorous neighbor, Los Angeles, it constantly seeks to prove itself as more fun, more laid back, and just as worthy of a settlement for young adults and families as ever. And it largely succeeds. For those Californians that are not internet or entertainment industry-obsessed, San Diego is the perfect place to have a military, bioscience or technology career in a diverse seaside surfing town with globally influenced food, superb weather, and an active nightlife.
My first stop in San Diego this trip was Santana’s, the fast-mexican drive through with the drool-worthy carne asada fries. Any time of day or night back in NYC, I crave this monstrosity at the mere mention of nachos or fries. As such, I made it a priority. You’ll see why here:
I can never usually finish. But I certainly tried!
After a disappointing stay at the Bristol Hotel last year, I decided to upgrade and stay at Se San Diego. Although it’s definitely not New York service (hurried snob that I am), I had a pleasant stay in a well appointed room and was totally worth it for the easy access to chef Anthony Calamari’s wonderful creations!
At my one big dinner at Suite and Tender, I went for the olive tapennade and the caprese salad w/white balsamic vinaigrette…Â and ended up choosing the short ribs w/pecorino chive red potatoes and the steak au poivre with bacon-honey brussel sprouts over the mustard brined roast chicken (next time!).
A good dinner is like a good tumble in the sack… it’ll put you right to sleep! Needless to say, I slept like a baby.
I had the great pleasure of visiting San Diego the week of St. Patrick’s day this year, and thoroughly enjoyed the Gaslamp District’s festive attack of the holiday. They do the same thing during Mardi Gras each year: close off the restaurant/bar streets, get a massive DJ act, and let the college kids go nuts. What I didn’t do, however, is take any photos. Because you’ve seen Spring Break before. I was just trying to cut through the crowd and get back to my hotel unsplattered by green-tinted beer or puke. But I did escape to a gayborhood bar to enjoy a few green-tinted cocktails and the slider sampler at Lei Lounge before retiring.
I’m a bit sad that I couldn’t get down to La Jolla to visit Nine-Ten during this trip… As the food there was absolutely delightful! One more reason to return…