Category: Ruminations

I've just gotten into downloading podcasts and discovered Evan Kleiman's Good Food on KCRW.  Do we have a New York equivalent?  And if not, why don't we have a New York equivalent?  A weekly farmer's market report, a restaurant rundown, writers like Russ Parson and Jonathan Gold, stories about Chinese Islamic food and what to look for in a good bourbon, and the pleasant and knowledgable host Evan Kleiman -- I can't get enough.  It's also the perfect thing for me to listen to at work.  Highly recommended, even though it's not about NYC.

Somebody ought to host a similar show here.  If anyone out there wants to teach me the technology, maybe I'll cobble something together weekly here.

Dibs (dibz)  Bite-sized ice cream bon-bons in a canister.  Edy's ice cream with a thin, cheap chocolate-hinted coating in plain, Crunch, or Drumstick.  Kind of disgusting, kind of delicious.  Available at the gas station by my house.  Totally designed for fat-asses who want to eat their ice cream while driving.  Can't wait to try the choco-covered mint. 

In this week's Counter Culture, Robert Sietsema raves about World Tong dim sum in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn.  Now before all you dim sum enthusiasts make a mess in your pants over this exciting, new, uncharted territory, I'd like to point out that this World Tong restaurant is the exact same place reviewed on December 22, 2004 by the NYTimes' Kim Severson -- only in the Times review, it's called Ocean Port Seafood Restaurant.

My previous thoughts on Ocean Port/World Tong confoundment here.

photo from Curbed

Does anyone really think the new Starbucks on Delancey is the frappuccino-slinging angel of death that will finally bring the rich, straight, white, capitalist yuppies to the Lower East Side?  I thought it was the $2000 rent to split a spit & duct-taped cardboard studio-size apartment between three people (been there).  I thought it was Clinton St.'s restaurant row, where I once spent $300 on dinner for two.  I thought it was the super fancy clothing boutiques on Ludlow, where you can't get a top for less than $75.  I thought it was oh-so-ironic pub quiz night at the Slipper Room. 

Hello, they let Keith McNally set up camp in their precious artist and brown people haven and they're complaining about Starbucks?  Bet no one cried when they kicked out those eight Chinese immigrant renters illegally sharing a one-room apartment so some sensitive art and brown people-loving trustafarian could pay $1700 to bask in the neighborhood's "history". 

Hey, I'm sure someone is grumbling now about the yuppies moving into Sunset Park.  But I'm not going to pretend I'm not part of the problem.  Besides, I'm sure I'll be priced out of this neighborhood in a couple of years -- by the end of the decade, my tag line could read "eating and complaining in Bayonne".  But it ain't going to be Starbucks' fault.

From Pulp's "Common People":

I took her to a supermarket
I don't know why, but I had to start it somewhere
So it started there.
I said, "Pretend you've got no money."
And she just laughed and said, "You're so funny."
I said, "Yeah?  Well I can't see anyone else smiling in here."

NB -- Mr. McNally, feel free to set up camp anywhere you'd like in Sunset Park.  I welcome you to our gas station and fast food restaurant heavy neighborhood.  We need some place to breakfast other than the Dunkin' Donuts on 26th St., which seems to be the resale joint for all of Manhattan's day-old donuts.

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Sweet baby Jesus's ghost, I've been gawked!  (Thank you Adam and Lindsay for my new favorite universally appropriate exclamation.)

Okay, I've complained about outdoor dining before.  But I must reiterate the hate with yet another reason.  Last night, I went to the Gowanus Yacht Club in Carroll Gardens for the first time for my friend Ami's going away party.  They should call that place the Gowanus Swamp -- I wasn't there but half an hour before I got bitten by mosquitoes on my leg, arm, and shoulder.  And this despite the fact that I sprayed on plenty of hippie bug spray right before leaving the house.  I don't care how cheap those burgers and PBRs are.  I love you, friends, but let's not have dinner at a place where my blood is the house special.  Excuse me while I break out the trusty steroid cream for my three itchy new boobs.

Kashi -- I make myself eat it for breakfast because it's good for me. But let's be honest: it's a little bit like eating a bowl of styrofoam peanuts, right?

12:55 p.m., Sunday morningish

I don't have anything to say on that liquor before beer/beer before liquor business, but vanilla vodka before a half bottle of cheap Gruet "champagne" from New Mexico = my liver HATES me right now.  I got some serious Sunday morning spins.  Now if I can only figure out where I put the Advil...

1 a.m., Sunday morning

I love drinking in Brooklyn. 

And I love being drunk and coming home.  I'm going to sip my glass of seltzer and read Harry Potter til I fall asleep.

Where's the party next weekend?

After watching teeny Sonya "The Black Widow" Thomas shove 37 hot dogs down in 12 minutes, topped only by tiny Japanese spurting-nostriled human garbage disposal Takeru Kobayashi's 49 hot dogs at the ESPN-worthy Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, I felt so ill that I decided I AM NOT EATING HOT DOGS EVER AGAIN.  Or at least I AM NOT EATING HOT DOGS TIL THE END OF THE MONTH.

And here is the very classy looking website for the International Federation of Competitive Eating, whose headquarters can be found on West 25th St. right here in New York City.  Who knew?

Not that I have any business going to McDonald's, but I had a craving for their caramel sundae.  I went to the Times Square McD's while I was in the hood with my cousin -- NO CARAMEL SUNDAES.  I went to the McD's by my train station -- NO CARAMEL SUNDAES.  McDonald's, this is the only item on your whole menu I will go out of my way to get.  It is the only thing I think you do better than anyone else (even Shake Shack, whose caramel sauce is drippy and a little burnt). 

In a concerted effort to figure out whether or not it's been permanently removed from the menu, I went to the website, where I discovered this shiny dangling carrot.

Oh my Buddha, I never realized how much McDonald's cared about me and my family!  In honor of the Year of the Rooster (which I learned all about on their website), I am going to go get some Chicken Selects and eat them with my people's Sweet n' Sour Sauce and Hot Mustard.  I will reflect on the humble greatness of Yao Ming and how "our diverse cultures and our everyday American lifestyle are becoming one."

UPDATE!  Last night, I was passing by a McD's in Bay Ridge and went to look at their menu -- no caramel, and the word "caramel" was covered up with a piece of tape on the menu.  Looks like they've very quietly rubbed the caramel out, guys.  It's probably for the best.  Who knows what goes into that stuff...