You don’t want to interact with me before my first shot of espresso. Ever. (FYI, I don’t want to interact with you either.)
There is a never-ending list of tasks and micro-challenges I’ve always wanted to accomplish. Things I keep throwing on the back burner. Step #1: Baking a galette. I finally did it. This is what went down:
Committing to a restaurant choice sometimes feels like a marriage. Either shit hits the fan and the food is terrible, the service is disastrous and you feel like you’ve been cheated and robbed of calories that could’ve been put to better use or…
Even though you became an overkill of an Instagram phenomenon (guilty) and the synonym of basic, I have a really hard time resisting your smooth consistency embellished with accessories like eggs, sea salt, red pepper flakes, and life in general. That thick ass bread–the end.
With variations ranging from porgy to pollock, Seamore’s was everything I ever needed in my life. It’s also right next to my apartment, which is a bit too convenient, and potentially an issue. The tacos are hefty on the fish portion, which is key. (Also, Karlie Kloss was sitting next to me and I still inhaled the tacos. Taco bout taco love.)
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…
I washed my hair for twelve hours and that did not remove the Benihana-esque lingering stench post Korean BBQ dinner.
It comes with a poached egg on top.
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).