As a locale covered in hanging roasted ducks, mystery buns, and an abundance of all things…Chinese, Chinatown may not seem like a go-to destination for your next Greek outing. Hang your judgments on your haloumi…
Except I kinda really hate yoga, but you know what I mean. Chia seed pudding is kind of a funny thing. Not like snorting-coffee-out-of-my-nose funny, but just…interesting I suppose. Don’t underestimate the power of these poppy seed clones; they’re kind of a superfood powerhouse (probably the second removed great grandchild of kale if it were married to swiss chard and having an affair with a papaya).
And like, really epic Thai food. Uncle Boons is your next destination for an ethnic inspired flavor bomb that will knock your bra off. Or your socks, or whatever. Before digging into the coconut sundae (shut up, I went on a 6:15 AM jog this morning), let’s talk green mango salad.
I imagine that if Flava Flave were reincarnated as a dish, it would be something at Bodega Negra. I was skeptical about ordering another quinoa/kale salad at this point in my life, but NO.
Walks into Birdbath to window shop. Has a staring contest with the vegan scone; resists. Inquires about healthy options behind the counter; gets a sullen glance. Wins; proceeds with just an iced tea; knows better; thinks of Gisele. Flirts with the scone again; bats eyelashes, smirks.
Café Colette is my shit. From the outside garden (life goals, I want one) to the fish tacos, if you don’t go here, we cannot be friends. Or acquaintances. We just can’t be anything.
If I’m writing about something I cannot eat or drink, you better freaking take note. So once upon a time it was Sunday and I found this store called BEAM in Brooklyn, and the owner poured me a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio (it was out for all guests) and I never wanted to leave. Ever.