About town

feast-worthy

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Adding to the list of things that make me happy, which include cobalt blue manicures and quinoa salads are anything bourbon-infused, or induced.

While I picked up a Bulleit tendency in Wisconsin courtesy of a few potentially inspiring bartenders, I am no cocktail connoisseur (though I secretly believe I am). In any case, there is a downtown bar called Ward III where I decided to put my evening in the hands of a badass looking bartender, and told her to hook me up with anything bourbon-meets-citrus-and-sweet. Also, the music and guacamole were equally compelling. The bourbon ended up being Heaven Hill, and it was shaken up with honey, ginger beer and lime. BAM; epic. Do it.

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Then, on a sunny Sunday where exiting my bed was mandatory courtesy of the 80 degree weather, I decided to finally hit up a neighborhood spot I had been ogling–The¬†Commons in Chelsea. It’s a bit of an overrated hole-in-the-wall, but in the end I somehow end up with the recurring justification of…FML, it’s New York.¬†

So than an $8 avocado toast became a $12 one because I needed it to be smothered in smoked salmon (while I dreamt of a poached egg on the scene). Pair that with a questionable ginger lemonade (it’s not that it wasn’t good…it was actually bad) and than somehow, my Sunday stroll became $18, which could’ve been several things, including a decked out mojito, approximately six one-way subway rides, a t-shirt at H&M, or…this.

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