Emotional Eating NYC

 Being in New York will bring out the best and worst in me.  I miss being home with my husband and cooking but then again, I'm in a city full of inspiration. So I try to eat at places I am normally not able to eat at.  Disclaimer: I'm a week out of my period so I can be pretty emotional.  Like, I watch Sailor Moon and ball my eyes out emotional.

I always get into the city with a plan, but when your plans don't fall in line with the others in your party, majority rules and you're shit out of luck.  Seniority and peer pressure wins. I guess I could have just party of oned it but I didn't want to be more depressing so, put on a happy face and eat what everyone is eating.   It's not that I don't trust other people's opinions, but the truth is I really don't.  I am very stubborn, I know this. It ALWAYS has to be my way.

Flying in on a red eye and landing kinda hung over,  walking in 30 degree weather, working most of the day and then heading out to Uniqulo can put a person in a weird place.  Hangry but excited to be heading to SoHo to flirt with the idea of eating at Jack's Wife Freda.  But alas it was not meant to be this trip.  We went to Kelley and Ping. It turned out to be perfect.  I had a bowl of the duck soup with the fat rice noodles and it was what I needed to hydrate my dehydrated soul. 

I didn't want this taste to ever leave my life.

When the world says to go to the Knicks game, I say to got to Momofuku Noodle Bar.  Given the opportunity to go to Madison Square Garden is definitely a bucket list opportunity, but it didn't feel right to me. I'm not a Knicks fan or a Timberwolves fan so the time invested to go to that game would have been my time wasted.  I would have missed out on the chicken meatballs, mind blowing shiitake mushrooms, and the most spicy cold ramen noodles that I didn't want to stop eating, and piggy tails. I stole a menu, and I regret nothing.  I was also in good company of a Momofuku virgin.

 I fucking begged for this fennel chip at Ippudo. But it was good. I'm obsessed with fennel.  I needed to try it.

The noodles were great but the egg a little on the cooked through side but still delish.   I had the Karaka Man.  Also the buns were light and fluffy. Like eating clouds.  When someone from your party has a stack of empty buns on their plate, you are no friend of mine.  They are called buns for a reason.  Without them it would just be pork or veggie filling.  I wanted to throw them in their face. That you're floating through life and missing all the best parts in life.

 

 My happy place. Forever. Always. Milk Bar.  One day I'll make the trek to Brooklyn but for now, Midtown will do.

Pastrami and rye bagel bomb. I had the volcano too a few days before and it was so good.

 This post is dedicate to this picture.  I saw Oh Land in an intimate setting and it was an amazing experience. Cheers to these fine people.

Eating Out NYC

The best part about being in New York by myself was I got to eat where I wanted to.  I felt like Madeline, a little person in a big city.  I didn't have anyone telling me, "Really, that ramen place? This ramen place is better" or "I really feel like eating pizza."  I made all the executive decisions and I loved it! It did get old second guessing myself on what to order and the benefits of tasting your dining companions meal is out of question.  Also conversations with yourself do not fully drown out the other conversations of others around you. Nonetheless, I had a good time entertaining for one.


My goal was to eat at places that I owned the cookbooks.  For the most part I was quite successful. I didn't eat in the hotel where I was staying and I sure as fuck didn't get my coffee from Starbucks.  I walked everywhere within thirty minutes of where ever I was. My souvenirs from this trip were menus, coasters and cookies that I bubble wrapped before they went into my luggage.

Ivan Ramen Slurp Shop located in the Gotham West Market. I can daydream about that egg all day.  It was perfect. 

Baohaus. Eddie Huang doesn't have a cookbook, however, I do own an advanced copy of Fresh Off the Boat, his memoir. 

Momofuku Milk Bar.  I ate at the Midtown location every morning. After I ate at Baohaus, I took a cab back to Midtown and a quick right turn revealed there was another Milk Bar in SoHo.  I gasped in and was quickly sad because I could have gotten dessert.  

Totto Ramen: It was like I was in Japan.

The Breslin. Where your cocktail cost more than your meal at least that was my story. Ever since I saw April Bloomfield make a Scotch Egg on Mind of a Chef, I decided that I was going to have try it. I sat at the bar because I was too embarrassed to sit at a table for one and I probably looked cooler sitting at the bar with a $14 cocktail and an $8 meal. The person sitting next to to me was fucking disrespectful. First off he blew the smoke from his vape pen right in my face. Second, he ordered a Sauv Blanc, a grown ass man at a cocktail bar.  Then he asks me if the sausage in the scotch egg was made of bacon.  He ordered the boiled peanuts.