To Eat Ice Cream, or to Not Eat Ice Cream, Can That Count as a Question?

Internal struggle. Should I head over to Sundaes and Cones in the pouring rain or walk up to a dining hall and eat a salad. The choice is obvious, or is it?

I'm already feeling kind of guilty, for a number of reasons:

1.It's been a long time since I've posted anything and I'm sure everyone is dying to/dreading to hear from me again.

2.I never eat vegetables anymore(but can you blame me? dining hall vegetables usually consist of seventy percent oil, thirty percent vegetables)

3. I ate a pound of pad thai... again.

It was Valentine's Day, and I am happy to say that I have the greatest Valentine a girl could wish for. MYSELF. I'm kidding of course, so to douse any lonely regrettable feelings I had, I indulged and ate a pound of pad thai from suzy's in what felt like ten seconds, but I'm sure was much shorter. So now I'm feeling guilty. I haven't worked out in two weeks and my fat and I are throwing ourselves a lovely little pity parade, I only wish you could be there for it.

Valentines Day actually wasn't that bad. I ran by CVS first thing in the morning and bought two boxes of Spongebob Valentines, most inscribed with the following, "Will you be my matey?" I then proceeded to give them to the kids at the elementary school I tutor at, who in return gave me a piece of brownie that tasted like playdoh. I ate it nonetheless. When I got back to campus I snuck soup into one of my classes and afterwards took portraits of my friend for another class. She looked quite stunning really, I would post a picture but she wasn't dressed as food... Anyways when I finally got home I opened the V-Day Care Package my mom sent me only to find, that it was filled with CANDY AND WINE. Best mom ever? I think yes. I'm sorry I don't have any particularly exquisite cuisines to talk about, but as soon as my budget increases I promise there will be more posts. I'm back baby and fatter than ever.

p.s. I got a new camera!

Hiatus

Good morning new york, or should I say... you know I honestly don’t know what to say. Maybe its because I’m bleeding onto my second consecutive day with absolutely no sleep - yep I did it, I pulled an all nighter ( my first by the way) - and I’m feeling nauseous and disoriented because I’ve lost my glasses. I feel like a little blind mouse, or  even all three of the blind mice. My personality has been raging from absolute lunacy to more subdued and anxious to just plain stupid. Most of the time I think I’m just plain stupid and I blame this on the fact that that I haven't gotten more than three hours of sleep collectively since I got back from Canada three to four weeks ago, or whatever. 

Most of the time I wish I was still in Canada, especially as I was illegally sipping cheapo wine from a thermus that smelled like coffee before a David Sedaris reading back in NYC. David, I love ya and absolutely nothing against you, but It had certainly been a long week; one of many. With wine I’ve been eating cheese, in the comfort of my dorm. Eating out has become less of an option since I dropped the bomb in Canada. While there I climbed a mountain and then treated myself to a poutine - a delicious conglomeration of well seasoned frites (fries - I’m practicing for my french final can you tell?) covered in gravy cheese curds and whatever topping you desire. We ate fries, asian food, and crepes throughout the entirety of our trip dousing it with legally purchased biere rousse ( red beer ). There is something so entirely perfect about being able to drink legally, especially when its good cheap beer. Drinking red beer felt like, to quote my roommate, sipping amber.

Anyways, back to the point, which is that I can’t afford anything because of how much I spent in Canada. SO, I’ve been cooking. AHA, she cooks, I know thats what you are all thinking - all four of you - and yes its true. I do cook when I have the time. My uncle works at Trader Joe’s so periodically I’ll get a gift card in the mail from him ,which is always a nice surprise, and then i’ll go and purchase some tender, salty proscuitto and lace it over a finely picked cantaloupe like ribbon on a blonde baby’s head, or make a pesto pasta and top it with strip steak cooked rare. 


I guess thats why I’m excited to go home, I’ll be leaving today and as much as it saddens me that I’ll be away from the delicacies of New York for five whole weeks, I’m also incredibly happy that I don’t have to eat cafeteria food for that duration and I’ll be able to cook more often. I suppose I’m entering a hiatus, but maybe you’ll get lucky and see some of my own creations soon. Anyways, bye for now New York. You’re one hell of a heartbreaker, but I can’t help but love you anyways. 

Amore

Love is in the air. Or something, but not really. It isn't spring time its fall time, as the constantly shedding trees of Washington Square have made very clear to me. I'm dying to go out there and make a leaf pile but the lawns are currently closed due to seeding. I don't really understand why they've decided to seed the lawns now given that its only a matter of time before the grass quickly recedes back into the ground under the icy grip of impending snow.

Anyways, back to the love, or the lack thereof. How the holidays procure so much joy from us during such an unforgiving season baffles me, I'm beginning to think its a hoax. The temperature doesn't stop me from eating ice cream though. In California, when I was younger, we'd go to a yogurt place called Golden Spoon (http://www.goldenspoon.com), but only when it was forty degrees or below and raining sheets. Why? Why lower our internal temperature as the weather proceeded to do the same? No lines, no wait... same prices...but whatever. Im finding that I've begun to continue that tradition here.

This last week for a class I've been working on a group project. After our first meeting we stopped by sundaes and cones a sweet and delicious and not that expensive treat. After six hours of auditioning and recording it was gelato we indulged in, a little expensive and entirely worth it: Amorino (http://www.amorino.com/en/). Hell, we deserved it. I've been once before and while it was good I wasn't about to spend six bucks on the tablespoon of gelatto I'd originally gotten again any time soon. But as the flavor of the month shot up I found it harder and harder for myself to resist, and I'm actually sticking to my measly budget now! In case your wondering, thats why my posts have dwindled to once a week if I'm lucky. Their flavor of the month is, I'm not going to pretend like I know what the italian name for it is, but it was some sort of mascarpone (a sweet italian cream cheese kind of spread; good for desserts) and fig cocktail of perfection. So good; all of their flavors are.  They've arranged it so that when they style your ice cream into a flower on a cone, every petal can be a different flavor, which sounds great in theory but all the flavors melt together and though they still taste good the impact of each individual ice cream is lost. My suggestion: get one to two flavors max, and definitely get the mascarpone (before its too late!)
p.s. thanks to spencer for being such a fab model

Francophone Interests...

Daylight savings time, the preliminary to winter and depression. It's coming, we know it is. For now the orange and red and golden leaves glimmer under the dusky afternoon sun but soon there will be no leaves and no dusk, only the the darkening of our sensibilities under the luminous grey clouds.

What I need is a vitamin lamp - I'm not actually sure if thats what its called but I know there is such a thing and it provides you with sun vitamins: i.e vitamin d. Or I just need to drink more milk or something high in vitamin-ey goodness. or I just need to drink more wine. I'm thinking my best bet is with the wine unfortunately its expensive and illegal...for me at least. I wonder if there is an injection you can get to give you wrinkles so you'll look older, wiser, and less susceptible to being carded. For now I'm guessing either no this does not exist or it does and its more expensive then any illegally purchased wine I've invested in. For now I think I'll stick with wine samples. On saturday I fruitfully tasted several really delicious wines, the first a bubbly non carbonated twice fermented concoction that tasted uncannily like champagne, the second a flatter version but the flavors all the same, and the third a heavily alcoholic syrupy fluid, good for pouring over five ingredient vanilla bean ice cream, as the lady at the booth pointed out. I smiled and nodded dropping a dollar in the tip jar before scurrying away, in fear of being asked for my ID, down into the subway.

That morning I'd left my dorm with the intention of spending a day in central park, maybe stopping by Ladurée for a minute or two to buy a couple macaroons. What it turned into was a mad dash up and down ten blocks and an hour and half wait for five macaroons; and it was completely worth it. As the store pulled  up into view I ferocioulsy joined the line that was curving down the block, just behind a little dog in a fur collared leather jacket and a perplexing group of french people, who snarked repartee back and forth like no one could understand what they were saying. It wasn't so much what they were saying that offended me, rather that they had the audacity to come to New York just to visit Ladurée. Didn't they have their own in the motherland? Hadn't they always?

Once inside the store, I illegally snapped some photos - my second crime of the day - inciting a series of snapshots from behind me and the eventual overhead shouting of the man at the cash register demanding we not take photos. Once at the front of the line, my inner turmoil of whether or not I should have bought a six set of macaroons just to get the cute box or go for the significantly cheaper option of five macaroons without a box came to a climax and I walked away with five extra bucks and no cute box. With a meeting quickly approaching I didn't have time to relax in the park or even taste a macaroon and an hour later, sitting in the library I took a bite into the delicate, crumbling texture of a raspberry macaroon. It dissolved under the heat of my tongue and the tiny little seeds of the raspberry jam tantalized the grooves of the roof of my mouth. I proceeded to eat a caramel macaroon, which was a little to thick and sweet - not enough contrast of flavors - and a pistachio macaroon which was needless to say, perfection. Oh so nobly I sacrificed my two other macaroons to my colleagues, so for now I cannot know the the wonders of the two other flavors I purchased. woe. is. me.

Two Bros ( and whatever I can recall eating in the last week)

Happy Christmas, as the brits say. Halloween has been over in my mind since Saturday even though it just happened two nights ago. I spent my Saturday watching Elf and listening to the bells of a nearby church or bell tower or notre dame or whatever lying in my bed with a platter of Suzy's finest chinese to keep me company. To my dismay, I was dragged out that evening and it was then that I experienced my first bitter cold NYC evening. After about an hour of a so-so swing dancing event,  my roommate and I detoured to 30 rock at midnight to break into SNL. Little did we know, there was no show that evening and as we arrived in the freezing cold, my gloves soaked through due to excessively throwing snowballs at taxis, we found ourselves locked out of the building on the glorious pavement just in front of the famous ice skating rink.

Oh to be a New Yorker. Not that I felt like one that night. No, as I raved manically in front of monuments and demanded my roommate take extraneous amounts of photos of me with my arms outstretched and my hair lightly dusted with snow-none of which turned out very good I might add- I felt like a full fledged tourist. Our pitstop at the Mcdonalds across from Times Square only confirmed this.

I must say though, I do miss Mcdonalds. Back home I had it once a week at least, usually more. It was odd to walk in and see that new cuisines had joined their smorgasbord of delicacies. This is something I would have known and discussed in California. I began to wonder what it was I even spoke of anymore, what had my life become? I had to restrain myself from indulging and bought only a coffee.

It was all I could afford. In fact its all I've been able to afford for weeks. Where i've been drawing my food funds from I cannot say, as I painfully checked my bank statements to find I had negative one dollar in savings little more than a week ago. Of course it was that same day a friend of my suggested we all go to a restaurant before our study session. While I wanted to propose instead going to a dining hall, I inevitably ended up at this restaurant.

Two Bro's on St. Marks. A reasonable looking pizza shop. As we approached the entrance an A rating flashed my eyes and I pretty much knew it was going to be out of my price range. Walking in, the pizza man slammed his fist on the dough and looked up at a startled me asking what I'd have. I told him just cheese and an ironed out pizza was handed to me. My teeth bared, I waited for the price. 2 dollars! for a slice of cheese that is. That's a slice of veggie which is 2.50 or something. Still a bargain, especially considering the A rating. It's good to know poor people can eat vermin free meals too. Check it out the pizza, it's good.

Bianca

Nauseous and a headache. Not that I can reasonably blame that on the restaurant I just got back from. No I'm afraid the credit goes to my neurosis, ever triumphant as always at causing me physical discomfort. I'm surprised that came out coherently.

So I came to a realization today - that halloween is coming and that its getting colder and I'm underprepared while my comforter is not and I find myself more and more likely to resort to the cozy crevices of my egg crate mattress cover. The only thing driving me out of my dorm is our lack of food and sometimes I can't even bring myself to leave for that. Last night for instance I ordered a helping of shredded beef with spicy chinese chili pepper from a restaurant called Suzies Finest Chinese Cuisine (http://www.suziesrestaurant.com/). It isn't the best chinese food I've ever had but its perfectly wonderful in its own sense, mostly because they deliver and so many other places won't because its either "too far" or "too late". For about fifteen dollars, that includes the tip for the delivery guy, I got an entire container of beef and peppers and rice which I promptly doused in Trader Joe's red curry sauce - I ate all of it and tucked myself and my new food baby that was rising and swelling in my stomach under my covers and began to plan my Thanksgiving Canada trip, which is just so patriotic.

Tonight I ventured out of my dorm for food, with my original intention of going to Mario Batali's Eataly on 5th Ave shifting to somewhat of an intention of going to Little Italy and finally becoming what was my evening at a little, well priced, italian place called Bianca, I found myself enjoying succulent gnocchi as it melted in my mouth like little cubes of softened butter. Doused in a creamy gorgonzola cheese sauce, I couldn't help myself from dipping slice of bread after slice of bread into the stewing substance that sat before me, until my stomach again swelled to the size of a newly pregnant woman.

Now I'm feeling the aftermath and will soon be hitting my mattress, for the second, or third, or fourth time today. I'll console myself with the knowledge that you burn more calories sleeping than just sitting around.

Crapaway

So pumped right now. I don't know why coffee does this to me but my mind is so filled with everything, its like someone has injected thoughts into my brain like a drug. So I said it I'm on drugs, if thoughts were drugs.

It's made me want chinese, the caffeine I mean. Some spicy shezwan beef, with the little carrot slices sauteed in some asian cocktail of perfection. oooh yes please. My other roommate was telling me about some chinese porridge that they apparently put a funky egg into. I'll find out more details about that and let you know soon. Back to the chinese; I'm in the library trying to convince my roommate to order takeout but she wont respond, why must she do this to me?

My desire for chinese has been growing since last night when I mistakenly detoured to Crapaway, excuse me Crepeaway, the mediocre crepe ( gourmet taco restaurant in disguise) restaurant located on Waverly Place. It stays open till three in the morning every night so that drunk college students can roll in and get their fill on thick undesireable tortillas filled with an extraneous amount of nutella. They offer you a number of options ranging from savory to sweet, but their savory crepes are usually loaded with harsh meats that drown out both the textures and tastes of anything else they choose to "decorate" it with - cheese's, vegetables, etc - and their sweet crepes are deliriously decadent and a prank waiting to happen. I ordered the simba - a sack of diarrhea mixed with melted chocolate chips and peanut butter sauce or something. The chocolate chips melted instantly and turn into a more watery less appealing version of nutella and I found myself in a puddle which was disgusting, needless to say.

On a more positive note, their Rusty's arent bad persay - a crepe with butter and brown sugar - but I wouldn't say they're worth six bucks, not that anything really is, in New York.
Going to Eataly tomorrow. More later.