Wednesday, the sleeper cell awakens.

Most of what I ate this Wednesday was just plain sad, if not downright disgusting. Jeno's pizza for breakfast, blueberry muffin from that massive chain coffee shop for lunch. Neither of which sparked much excitement in my life, so I imagine you've already clicked to the next blog and are reading about some mid-west soccer-mom's azaleas. For those of you still with me, though, you are going to get two excellent pieces of advice on eating out in Manhattan.
#1, Azuri Cafe,
51st St. between 9th Ave and 10th Ave. It's just a little falafel joint. They do the spread from shwarma to baba ganoush. I had a falafel sandwich, and it was so amazing, you're lucky I managed to stop and take the photo. Honestly, the best falafel I've ever had. The guy building the sandwiches stood in front of an array of 20 different sauces and condiments and with each pita, he appeared to be painting a very exacting portrait of the taste-scape he had in mind from a diverse and yet complimentary palate. There was no part of my sandwich where I felt like the main event was over and I was just cleaning up the plate. It was everything you'd ever wanted falafel to be with the addition of a subtle dance of extras you never knew you were missing. If you eat falafel and you are ever near there, you owe it to yourself to go. Icing on the cake, it was the first time in a while that I had excellent service in the city. The guys working there were happy to make you a kick-ass falafel sandwich and they wanted you to know they enjoyed your satisfaction as much as you did.

#2, Do not, DO NOT ever by the roasted redskin potatoes from SuperFresh's deli department.

They sucked so bad, I don't even mind typing out the phrase "sucked so bad." If the falafel re-instated my faith in food as a soul-nourishing necessity of life, then these potatoes would be the opposite. The rosemary came across like soap and the texture of the potatoes themselves were very distressing. The buffalo wings weren't as bad, and I could bring myself to eat those again if I were in a pinch for something to pour beer on top of.

That falafel made the whole day worth it, though. I'm just itching for another excuse to go back.