Like a train, I seem to be going through a regular schedule of starts and stops. Much like the NYC Metro and not the Japanese rail system, the slightest problem can lead to massive derailment and widespread system failure. Somehow, these past two weeks I have managed to establish a routine of writing for a month, and then falling off the face of the Earth for a while. There's nothing to do but dig your nails in where you are and start to crawl your way back up.
Monday was a bit out of sorts since I didn't have an opportunity to make breakfast as I was digging through beer bottles and watermelon rinds in an attempt to find my wallet. It ended up being in my book bag all along, which is often the way these things go. At least I did eventually have my wallet so that I could go to a sandwich cart and get the ubiquitous bacon, egg and cheese on a roll. I also found a bottle opener in the trash that we had inadvertently thrown away. Bonus!
The cart was on 60th Street between Columbus Ave. and Broadway. I don't recommend them unless you like cavorting with bacon's sad, soggy spin-off, turkey bacon. I respect other people's convictions that prevent them from eating pig bacon, or any food made on the same griddle as pig bacon, so long as they respect my right to avoid establishments that won't serve me Babe thinly sliced and fried till crispy.
And amazingly enough, that sandwich lasted me all day. I must have eaten a lot over the weekend. Since I haven't written about it yet, you don't know.
Dinner was bar food, but very good bar food. I was at Piano's on Ludlow south of Houston St. I had their chipotle buffalo wings and their calamari. The calamari came out just on the tail end of their perfect texture period, so I had to devour them before they started to rubberize. The wings were very large pieces for chicken parts, almost like turkey wings. The sauce was a very pleasant level of spicy that rang on the lips well after eating. Considering each plate was $5 during happy hour, it was a pretty good spread for the value, definitely enough to share.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
That bottle opener wanted its freedom.
Post a Comment