Part2 of my New York Eats is all the ‘dirty food’, the stuff you know isn’t that good for you but you just have to have once in a while. While not quite dirty, I’ve also included some of the spectacular brunches I had out here, I think the Brits and the Yanks do breakfast the best.
Some places I wanted to revisit have since disappeared, like the amazing burger place near Tompkins park where I used to speedwalk to on my lunch breaks, it was like an east coat version of In’n'Out (so I hear). I also sorely miss the stall at East St Market run by a gay couple who posted pictures of their adopted kids everywhere. They could do a mean salmoon fillet sandwich and some great healthy muffins. Thankfully the new places more than took away the pain of not being able to revisit my old favourites.
This was just the thing I needed to fill my belly after a rain-sodden walk. The fluffy pancakes with lashings of butter and maple syrup provided some stodge and the coffee with half and half (surely the best invention?) kept me going for a few more hours shopping. I can’t remember where I got these and I can’t be bothered to find out because they weren’t amazing, suffice to say if you fancy pancakes get thee to a diner!
Oh no she didn’t! Yes, yes I did. I can blame my father for my fascination with dirty food, our occasional Saturday night ‘picnics’ with a KFC bucket (when it still came with a Vienetta) have left an indelible mark on my appetite. I was intrigued by Popeyes and their ‘Chicken and Biscuits’, surely a biscuit is something you put in tea? So when I found myself at Dallas airport with two hours to kill I knew exactly what I wanted.
I ordered chicken with a biscuit and some rice and beans, washed down with a huge root beer, when in Texas… The biscuit is like a buttery, fluffier scone and goes really well with the beans and rice. The chicken was covered in a slightly scary coating, deep tikka orange and then a cornflake-like crispy outer shell. Whatever it was I ate the lot, even though it gave me a bit of a headache afterwards. > Popeyes, nationwide.
I bought this hero out in Long Island, where there was an Italian festival in one of the towns there. I went for traditional sausage, peppers and onions, it wasn’t as good as getting meatballs but it totally added a little spring in my step walking down Main Street.
Some more Long Island food, this bar had the playlist of dreams, hello Surfer Blood and Sebadoh! We washed these amazing nachos down with a tasting selection of beers.
The reason for our visit to Long Island was to go to a pumpkin-picking festival in the awesomely named Yaphank, complete with hay rides, cow chip bingo (google it) and pumpkin seed spitting contests. In other words seven shades of amazing. The food stall didn’t disappoint either, I went for an iced tea, pulled pork sandwich and a corn chowder. Pure heaven. The pulled pork was incredible, aromatic and soft and the corn chowder just the right side of healthy.
Going on the Roosevelt Island cable car followed by a trip to a diner is one of New York’s simple but wonderful pleasures. Our usual diner was shut, so we wandered over to the Ritz Diner for some trad eats. I couldn’t resist a grilled cheese, it may be American plastic cheese but the addition of a pickle and some coleslaw makes all the difference. > Ritz Diner, 1st Ave & 62nd.
I don’t think I’ve ever eaten as many eggs as I did in New York. This was the majestic Eggs Benedict from Rabbithole in Brooklyn, complete with home fries and bacon. To balance out the dish is a bit of spinach, I think Eggs Benedict works so much better with raw rather than cooked spinach. > Rabbithole, Bedford Avenue.
There’s something about the beer in New York that gives you the most chemical, burning hangovers. The drunk eggs at Roebling Tea Room pretty much saved my life on one of those intense hangover days. Starting off with a hefty mug of chamomile tea prepped my post-booze stomach for some food.
Grits, black beans, sour cream, an egg and some salsa doesn’t sound like it could change your life but it totally did. The creamy grits settled my tum and the mix of sour cream and spicy salsa roja was just what I needed. > Roebling Tea Room, Roebling Street.
I’ve never had chilaquiles before, so what better way to experience them than cooked by the husband and wife team who run Cafe el Portal and Casa Mezcal? Giselle and Ignacio bought an oven-roasted tomato sauce from home to cook the fried pieces of tortilla until it combined into a heavenly mush. Topped with an expertly fried egg, some sour cream, queso fresco and red onion as well as a few slices of sausage it was a breakfast of kings. Staying out upstate in idyllic Cornwall we had these chilaquiles outside in the garden where we watched hummngbirds and butterflies, idyllic much? > Cafe el Portal, Casa Mezcal
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