I missed the food in New York almost as much as I missed my friends.
Almost.
While the food in Paris is just lovely and you can't mess with them when it comes to good French food, creative cuisine here can occasionally be a little misguided. The first time I ordered Udon noodles at a Japanese place off Rue St Anne, I was horrified that it came with a soggy, greasy clump of frites on top. Really, fries on your Udon?
All Americans here wax poetic about the lack of pizza slices and mediocre at best Chinese places (even in Chinatown!) and real sushi being prohibitively expensive. A lot of kitchens tone down the spice quoten in their cuisines to accommodate the more sensitive and seemingly spice-adverse French palate. Something was lost in translation when these things came to France.
I took advantage of my time there and got my comfort food fix in.
Like proper noodle soup at Momofuko Ko, with not a greasy limp fried potato to be seen. Bonus: they put kale in it.
Food trucks! We have two or three now in Paris, all run by Americans. In New York, you can't round a corner without seeing one. Stacks of them sometimes. Lots of hot dogs and middle-eastern inspired meat and rice, but there are plenty of choices to be had otherwise.
I remember ages ago when I was working on Madison Ave, their was a coffee vendor cart parked out front. After just a few days on the job of getting my morning coffee there, the guy had my coffee order memorized and would have it ready for me while I was still in line. Magic.
Some New Yorkers are ruder than others. I mean, really now. Both dog and owner need some behavior modification methinks.
We did discover a fantastic new BBQ place in Williamsburg.
Rather cruel, but my dentist is right next to the Donut Plant in the Chelsea Hotel.
I haven't had a donut in forever, or since my last dentist appointment anyway. Even after getting a filling replaced (oops...it must have been something I ate?) I had to have one. Despite not being able to feel my mouth, I overcame. I might have chewed my lip bloody, but damn, that donut was worth it.
How could I forget about all the crazy Indian/Bangladeshi places in the East Village?
And the slaughterhouses in Sunset Park where you can pick out your dinner as if they were lobsters in a tank?
One thing that I don't miss so much is brunch. I know it's much more than the sum of its parts: it's not really about the food, but about lazy booze-fueled conversations and showing off shoes you can barely walk in. Only in New York will you hear people say things like, "That would make a nice brunch outfit".
This New Yorker cartoon hit home:
I do miss dim sum lots though. Having a dozen dumplings for breakfast is always a good idea.
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