the credit for the title of this post goes to my dear friend Nikki Darling who blogs at http://imnikkidarlingandyourenot.blogspot.com. click here! to read it. (i have also appropriated the embedding of a link with the words "click here!" within a post for comedic effect from Ms. Darling's site.)
I've been in culinary heaven lately, reader. At the end of August, I moved into a new household with two new roommates whom I've never previously lived with. One of them, a Mr. Eli M. R., has a predilection for fine kitchen accessories such as large cast iron pans and small cast iron pans and thin crepe type pans from a NY shop called the Panhandler. He gets pays people to sharpen his knives the way I pay people to fix the worn out soles of my boots and purchases special brushes to wash the pans because soap and I suppose regular scouring pads are very harmful. The other roommate, the honorable Jeremy P., owns, actually OWNS, a pasta maker. The three of us together made pasta a couple of weeks ago. Well, honestly, J made the pasta while E made the sauce and I made a lot of comments about how to best do each of those things while opening one Corona after another. 'Twas a blast.
Also, I made pumpkin walnut pancakes last weekend at my this brunch party new neighbor (and friend!) threw in lieu of an apple picking trip. They're really easy and delicious and now I have a ton of pumpkin stuff left over that I should make pumpkin bread with. I plan to do that maybe tomorrow because now that stuff is over a week old even though that pumpkin bread will not last to this saturday when I plan to have our housewarming halloween pre-party.
this morning, my new man friend who's friends with the new neighbor friend (new new new my whole life is new) asked me what my favorite restaurant in New York is and I was stumped! Here I thought I knew a thing or two about where to eat, but most of the places I've called faves in the past are now defunct or worse boring. Union Picnic RIP. Farewell Deborah. I miss you, that place on the corner of Grand and Bedford that had awesomely weird french morrocan toast! and you too lovely day, goodbye. I will never forget you brunch place on 9th street that I used to go to with Jill after our absurdly early Sunday yoga classes. I probably will always have a fondness for great jones even though the last couple of times i've been there were lackluster. and don't think i've forgotten about you decibel, even though you're not really a restaurant and all of those stupid st. marks posers have discovered you.
in case you are wondering, he said his favorite was blue smoke (although, technically, i didn't ask him). he also said he wanted to try peter luger some day. I have tried good ole' pete's myself once on a former man friend's whim (and dime! ahahahah! cough!) and thought it was meh. like, I've had great steak. this place is all hype. but god they have have enormous tomatoes (that's what she said!).
but seriously folks, i need a new favorite restaurant. there's lots of spots i frequent for various reasons, but none that hit all the high notes for me on all important assets of a true fave: delicious food, cozy cool ambiance, friendly service, convenient location, reasonably priced. maggie brown is convenient and cute, but not consistently delicious (you should have the rotating daily deviled eggs. i always hope it's going to be martini day again.) odeon is delicious and convenient to my office, but it is not affordable on a regular basis. am I forgetting something? if/when i remember i might/not come back here to jot them down.
here are some lyrics to a song that played at the delancey the other night while we were waiting for male bonding to play. i really like this song:
This bed is on fire
With passionate love
The neighbours complain about the noises above
But she only comes when she's on top
My therapist said not to see you no more
She said you're like a disease without any cure
She said I'm so obsessed that I'm becoming a bore, oh no
Ah, you think you're so pretty
Caught your hand inside the till
Slammed your fingers in the door
Fought with kitchen knives and skewers
Dressed me up in womens' clothes
Messed around with gender roles
Dye my eyes and call me pretty
Moved out of the house, so you moved next door
I locked you out, you cut a hole in the wall
I found you sleeping next to me, I thought I was alone
You're driving me crazy, when are you coming home