Wanderings

One of the things I love most about New York is that you can spend all day doing absolutely nothing constructive, but feel as if you have done and seen everything. Last Friday I had one of those days. Like a prize idiot, I left my cell phone charger at the office of the NGO I am interning at this summer. My phone had died somewhere between Wednesday and Friday leaving me socially stranded in a city of blackberrys and iPhones. So, I headed into the office, charged my phone while I socialized with my co-workers distracting them from their constructive work and I checked emails.
Surprisingly I managed to park it at my desk and work for several hours before I needed to get out and explore the city. Situated downtown, I texted my friend Ryan who lives in Union Square for an impromptu meet up.
We met in Washington Square Park, walked over to a side-street falafel eatery, and grabbed delicious falafel sandwiches for $2.50 each. Thick white, hot pita bread, freshly fried falafel, crisp lettuce, succulent tomatoes, and a tangy tahini. Five stars.
As I said before, you can literally do nothing all day, but wander, talk, eat, and wander some more. We sat in the park and talked, savored out sandwiches and then got up and wandered to our next spot: Think Café. I’m actually sitting in this café right now composing this entry, but I have to credit good old Ryan for the introduction. Located on Mercer Street and W 3rd on NYU campus, this café is a place I’ve been looking for all summer. It fulfills pretty much all of my basic criteria for a good coffee house:
1. Large open spaces with diverse seating areas.

2.Eclectic music that isn’t played too loudly in the speakers.
3. Fair trade, delicious coffee.
4. Pieces by local artists displayed on the walls.
5. Grilled cheese
And of course….
6. WiFi
This place has its own character. It is frequented by the New York writer and the graphic designer, the edgy NYU literature student and the out-of-work actor who scans through plays laughing and gesticulating to him or herself. Think also gives 10% of its profits to a non-profit education program that reaches out to low-income kids and teens. Coffee with a cause, always good.
Ryan and I sat for about an hour, talking, sipping coffee, and catching up. For the first time in almost 10 years, I got a bloody nose when I went to the bathroom. I look up in the mirror as I’m washing my hands, thinking that I have a runny nose (like a normal human being), but I’m bleeding. What the hell? Maybe it was my inner workaholic screaming out to me “STOP ENJOYING YOURSELF BEING A SLACKER AND GET BACK TO WORK!” Of course, the best way to get my attention is to make me bleed. Thank you inner conscience.
Wandering out of Think and up Broadway, Ryan and I hit up The Strand, New York’s new and used bookstore. At 2pm on a Friday afternoon it was packed. I looked at “Netherland,” “Stuff White People Like” (in which I completely fit the mold), and finally browsed upon a stack of Noam Chomsky’s conspiracy theory books. The inner philosopher and suspicious American got the better of me and I bought one of his damn books.

We then wandered to University Place and stopped off in Crumbs Bake Shop. It wouldn’t be a day in New York without a cupcake. Crumbs is a touristy enclave, strategically situated in one of the most populated outdoor spaces in New York. The cupcakes are massive, colorful, creative, and expensive—all draws for the unknowing visitor. Ryan, being rather economical and understanding of my passion for taste testing, suggested that we get the 12 mini-cupcake assortment. Smart guy. I ventured into cupcake land hand in hand with Oreo, Cookie Dough, and Red Velvet mini cupcakes. Ryan's companions were Cherry, Strawberry, and Coconut. May I just say that the oreo was heavenly. Rich and creamy, this softer version of an oreo cookie brought me back to my days afterschool when my sisters and I would dunk oreo cookies into milk, shove them into our mouths, and smack our lips in satisfaction. The cookie dough cupcake (sounds strange, I know) brought me back to childhood activities as well. My weekly sleepover ritual at my best friend Rachel's house always ended in a midnight binge of taffy and refrigerated cookie dough. This cupcake tasted far better as I dove into a miniature fudge wedge at the center. Delicious.

I would highly recommend trying out the tasting assortment of cupcakes from crumbs. Even if you a cupcake snob and steer away from the touristy spots, indulge and make it an activity. Despite my general lack of productivity, its always beneficial to sink into a day of exploring and cupcakes.

Crumbs Bake Shop: University and 13th in Union Square.

Peace, Love, and Happiness….Vegan Style

When most people think vegan, they picture dreadlocks, thin women, lots of applesauce, and piles of nuts overflowing from shelves in bohemian apartments. When I think vegan, I think of religious Hindus, but maybe that’s because I’ve been in India too long. No longer do we have to envision these profoundly weird mental images, but we can experience vegan food with a degree of normalcy.

I stumbled upon peacefood café on the way back from an evening of comedy with my friend Tim. Wandering up Amsterdam Ave after an evening of Thai food, I was drawn to this brightly lit haven along the restaurant strip. The place is extremely modern and cleanly designed—large glass windows, nature hues cover the walls, and bright white tiles make for a trendy spot for conscious eating. Checking out the menu on the front door wasn’t enough; I had to hit it up inside and take a look at what they had to offer.

I should have known that there is no way of avoiding a crazy boho hippie crowd at any vegan restaurant. The girl at the counter, who couldn’t have been older than 18, smiled at me with this semi-creepy hunger-driven daze asking what I’d like. I asked her what cupcakes she recommended seeing as how there were three kinds in the glass display case. She looked at me confused, as if the word “favorite” was not in her vocabulary. Looking back and forth between the glass case and my inquisitive face, she finally said, “we’ll, I mean, they’re all awesome.” Thanks. Very helpful.

In situations like these, I make pragmatic decisions. How am I going to find out which one is my favorite? Aha! Buy all three kinds. Screw the calories! Screw health consciousness! I’m eating vegan! Who cares?

The girl packed up all three cupcakes in recycled pressed paper and handed them to me. I asked for a bag. “We don’t have bags.” Oh right, I forgot. Everything is environment conscious in vegan restaurants. She then proceeded to take my credit card, swipe it, sneeze into her hands which conveniently held my credit card, and then handed it back to me. Lovely.

Despite the weird, possibly drug-induced, service person, peacefood produces lovely cupcakes. I tried the lemon vanilla cupcakes that tasted very almondy. The nutty flavor from the almond base did not overpower the citrus flavor of the icing or the cake. It was lightly refreshing and for some reason, I felt healthier eating it. The chocolate ganache cupcake was sort of a mimic of a german chocolate cake because it had coconut and nutty bits in the icing. I could taste the applesauce base in these badboys. Not my favorite. Apple, chocolate, and coconut are hard to coordinate. Better luck next time. Finally, I tried the passionate fruit cupcakes which were simply magical. I sailed away on a vegan grass boat to Polynesia. There was a simple vanilla frosting, but the fruity flavor from the cake totally took over my tastebuds…in a good way. If you are in the mood for a hippie retreat with many more dairy and meat free foods, hit up peacefood café on Amersteram Ave. between 82nd and 83rd.
http://www.peacefoodcafe.com/PeacefoodCafeMenu.pdf

Friends Are The Bestest

Rainbows, lemon, miniatures, oh my!
This past weekend, I shuttled up to Boston on my favorite mode of transportation, the Bolt Bus. (A quick tangent though: On my way back to NY Monday morning, I had a bus driver on my good ol' reliable Bolt Bus service who thought it completely necessary to stop at an Arby's for twenty minutes in Connecticut. A) Why pick the worst fast-food restaurant known to man? B) Fast-food means fast, quick, speedy, pronto... Sipping on your high fructose corn syrup coma-inducing soda and savoring your crappy, unidentifiable meat sub is hardly leisure meal behavior, let alone bus service manner. C) And, if you are going to pick an Arby's, why don't you pick one that is in the vicinity of other fast-food places, not just your run-of-the-mill Holiday Inn? Ok, I'm done with my rant. Moving on...)

So yes, I went back to beantown to visit a good chunk of my friends who happen to be Tufts-centered this summer. Arriving in South Station, I bounded down to the red line of the T only to be greeted by rowdy Red Sox fans. I began to miss the NY subway on the T when we stopped, count it, six times in the tunnel. Oh, the underrated beauty of express underground transportation with minor delays.

I got off at Davis Square and journeyed up the hill to meet my friend and housemate Meg for dinner at my house in Medford. I clearly forgot two things: a) how much I sweat from minimal daily exercise and b) how damn far away my house is from Davis Square. Getting to my front porch with no muscles pulled never felt so good. Meg warmly greeted me and threw some "summer turkey" burgers onto our George Foreman grill. Two burgers, a magic hat ale, lots of gossip, and six pieces of grilled summer squash later, I was stuffed, lying on my plushy, yet filthy couch eyeing the mountain of videogame devices that had accumulated on my coffee table. Thanks, male subletters.

I would have to say that the best part of the evening is the surprise cupcakes Meg made for the occasion. The rainbow lemon cupcakes are so tiny that three could easily fit on my freakishly small palm. The cupcakes weren't frosted, but glazed with tart, yet delicious lemon gloss. Biting into my first cupcake, the whizz of lemon and the sweet crunch from the rainbow funfetti filled my palate and inevitably invoked an "oooh!" of delight. These little bad boy cupcakes pack a tangy punch that only the avid cupcake connoisseur can handle. Needless to say, I ate five. Well done, Meg. Well done.

Cornershop Comfort

Yes. It's been a while. Last week, while on a long and much needed lunch break from work at one of my internships, I wandered the streets of Noho trying to figure out why everyone and their little brother wants to eat in this neighborhood. First of all, it's the shopping capital of Manhattan which means that it's the tourist capital of the US. Since the recession, every trendy European and his stick-thin girlfriend are found traipsing about Houston Street looking for comparatively cheap fashion buys--value they can get for fewer Euros. One of these fedora-clad fashionistas almost spilled a venti mochaccino on me as I walked out of my building... Luckily I have the reflexes of a nervous cat and jumped backwards awkwardly bumping into the security guard of the building who was holding the door for me. My bad.

I originally was hoping to find a cute little coffeehouse I heard about in my search for the perfect cupcake. Memo to you, New York Magazine: 17 Bleecker, a coffehouse "where thirty-something locals lap up lattes, nibble on pastries, and cruise the Internet via free wi-fi" DOES NOT EXIST. It is now a boutique. I was dissappointed.

Wandering down Bleecker, I came across a pretty restaurant with windows open and elegant curtains shading customers from the midday Manhattan sun. The Cornershop Cafe (643 Broadway, just abover Bleecker Street) is a cute little oasis in the shopping desert. I entered the billowing curtains and found a small dining room with a variety of old wood tables and trendy bronze chandeliers. Decorative pillows adorned wall seats and the floor just screamed "I'm aged wood--don't scuff me up with your high-priced heels!"

I belong to a generation obsessed with personal technology. Blackberrys, iPods, bluetooth, portable GPS, and laptops are our most prized possessions. Even though I am technologically challenged (yes, I have issues syncing my iPod, among other things...), I am usually with my laptop. My lovely, orange encased macbook goes with me everywhere so I can write, look at my pictures and addictively browse the internet. So, stepping into this place, I didn't want to seem too out of place by being the one anti-social, workaholic chick with a computer. Luckily there was another guy, dressed in work attire, using a laptop and sipping a coffee at a table. PERFECT, I thought. I won't be ostracized and hated by the waitstaff for camping out and taking up valuable table space.

I went and sat down at the table behind my laptop buddy so I could view the whole dining room. I ordered a fresh mint iced tea and a breakfast wrap with eggs, cheddar cheese, tomatoes, and smoked chicken sausage. I'm not exactly sure where the breakfast burrito craving came from, but it was a good choice. First of all, let me comment on the mint iced tea. Praised be the good lord of all holy herbal remedies. Drinking this tea was like being hit over the head with a heavy (and fragrant) pot of mint leaves. My gums tingled for minutes after taking a single sip. This flavor may be too strong for some, but it was the most refreshing thing I could have asked for. The breakfast wrap was also delicious--not too greasy, cheesy, or over-stuffed. The eggs were not overcooked and stayed fluffy in the condensed wrap. The chicken sausage was delicious and mixed perfectly with the sharp, yet tangy cheddar cheese. The tomatoes added that extra bit of sweetness that eggs always need. So, yes. Yum.

Of course, when I finally whipped out my laptop, the jerk in front of me leaves making me look like the workaholic anti-social girl I was afraid of becoming. More and more patrons entered the restaurant as I sip my iced tea and the noise level became noticeably unbearable. My waiter even dropped off the bill without me asking, as a suggestive "get the hell outta here, I got customers who want that table." Being the stubborn lady that I am, I stayed put and ordered a coffee to spite the bastard. Let me and my laptop enjoy my newfound Noho nook.

Soul Food Sunday

Waffles with butter and syrup....check. Buttery warm biscuits....check. Blood Mary......check. Fried Chicken.....CHECK.

This past Sunday, I hitched up to Harlem with my friend Tim to soul food it up. Sylvia's, another New York institution, is the Sunday hot spot for church goers, tourists, and general lovers of greasy, but delicious soul food. I was informed that Bill Clinton almost always pays Sylvia's a visit when comes to New York.

From 116th and Broadway Tim and I took a cab to Malcolm X Boulevard and 126th. We walked the single block to the restaurant that was lit up with flashing lights as if it were a Vegas night club. We were greeted, seated in the main dining room, and then served by a super sweet waitress named Lorraine. The decor is nothing fancy--comfort and simplicity rule this landmark.

Tim had the mimosa (made with Andre!) and I had the spicy bloody mary. Fresh biscuits were immediately brought to our table. The choices on the menu were basic breakfasts: eggs, breakfast meats, biscuits, waffles, BUT the most intriguing part of the menu was indeed the Waffle-Fried Chicken morning combo.

I can honestly say, even though I've had those mornings where all I want is greasy food to absorb the polluting of my liver from the night before, I have never eaten fried chicken before noon. And let me say, I highly recommend it. I will also say, that if you feel guilty eating fried food that has very little nutritional value, exercise before you go to Sylvia's. You'll feel better.

The waffles were your typical fluffy, uninteresting sweet breakfast dish. I'm a huge syrup snob and the syrup was sub-par. Super sweet, no hint of nutty maple flavor. Bummer.

The fried chicken (I got the white meat) was unbelievable. Perfectly spiced, not too greasy, and easy to get off the bone, I was in love. Tim, trying to be polite, kept wiping his hands clean after every bite. I felt no guilt. Dive right in. Get dirty.

Sylvia's is not cheap, but it is totally worth the experience. Next time I plan on trying more of their savory dishes--barbeque, sweet potato, mac n' cheese. We left right as the Sunday post-church rush began so, if you plan to visit Sylvia's on a Sunday, come before noon.

Hungarian (and pretentious literary) Getaway

This past weekend while recovering from a jam-packed week in DC at the Global Business Coalition for HIV/AIDS, TB, and Malaria (depressing, I know), I decided to venture into my neighborhood in search of a delicious afternoon sweet treat. May I just say though, the Upper West Side is extremely lacking in small, locally owned (NON-STARBUCKS), comfy couch coffee shops. Most of the establishments that serve coffee are restaurants with servers, hard-backed wood chairs, and no wireless. My trip to DC and my brief tryst at Tryst Coffee House in Adams Morgan was a much needed breath of fresh comfortable coffee aroma.

So, I walked up Broadway. Instead of finding a coffee shop, I found almost ten different bakeries with very little seating room. I also happened upon a block-long semi-yard sale. The entirety of 107th st. between Broadway and Amsterdam was blocked off and filled with friendly vendors selling jewelry, old books, and furniture.

Walking through the main gates of Columbia University, I was, as usual, taken aback by the grandeur of the main campus. The library is so epic with its tall Corinthian columns and the names of the great thinkers etched into the stone. I felt more regal just walking through going to Amsterdam Ave.

On Amsterdam Ave. just after 112th st. there is a lovely little shop called the Hungarian Pastry Shop. The classic red awning and outdoor seating was really inviting and very old-school. I went inside to find a very European-esque setting. Ornate sconces. Dimly lit seating area. Simple, yet elegant collection of black and white portraits and still life on the walls. Many men in skinny jeans and horn-rimmed glasses reading literature. I even spotted some guy in the corner immersed in Dostoevsky.

I got sucked into the baked goods display case like a moth drawn to a very bright light. My eyes can get very big and, let me tell you, they could have very easily swallowed half the things in that case. After some internal debate I decided upon a hazelnut and white chocolate petit foule. At least that's what the waitress called it. For a grand total of three bucks, I got a delicious fake cupcake pastry that has satisfied my sweet craving for the next week.

The petit foule consists of three main layers. The bottom layer is a crumbly hazelnut cake. On top of that is a vanilla/white cake layer, topped by a white chocolate ganache. Powdered dark chocolate and crushed hazelnuts are the garnish. This delicious, palm-sized treat is slightly frozen so it has a cooling and sweetening effect. It was served on a warm plate so the chocolate started to melt a little. It was too good.

If I'm ever in the mood for something notoriously sweet again, I will definitely come here. And, if I want to shamelessly check out and people watch young pretentious literature students, I know exactly where to go. The Hungarian Pastry Shop.