
Totally unrelated to food, but just to clarify, in case anyone was harboring any delusions: Pretty much everyone who has anything to do with Roving Gastronome is a total dork. Peter and I are so dorky, we volunteered to have our pictures taken for Bike Month NYC promotional posters. If I can’t be Miss Subways, this is the next best thing…
Category: NYC, biking, city life
The Gates
Huh. They are safety orange. Peter said this, but I didn’t believe him. I was still living in “saffron” fantasyland.
I think because I was riding my bike, I had this automatic anxious response to the color. “Construction ahead. Bridge closed. Detour this way. Your life will start to suck very soon,” is the subconscious message that color sends to my brain. And I couldn’t turn it off, even though I biked all the way across the park–every time I saw a fresh cluster of them, I thought, “Damn, I’m going to be so late.”
This is perhaps the first time in my life I’ve thought something might be better if I weren’t riding my bike.
Banh Mi, but Don’t Blame Me
Last week, as I was stuffing the world's best snack, the banh mi, the Vietnamese sandwich specifically from the dark little hole under the Manhattan bridge that's open only five hours a day, down my gullet in a frenzied urge to maximize the sweet-hot-crispy-gooey-meaty-veggie taste sensation, I was also contemplating how it is that I'm chronically late.
CMCM Debrief
So, two follow-ups to the fable of the country mouse and the city mouse--wait, three.
City Mouse, Country Mouse 2
Unless you are magically, cosmically, soulfully connected with your fellow travelers, just wandering around will very quickly wear everyone's patience thin...
Hang on to your seats
I'm serializing this CMCM story.
City Mouse, Country Mouse, part I
Last week, before the Froog died, I was in Seattle, or really, Duvall, Wa. My little brother lives there, teaching at the Wilderness Awareness School.
Hot dog! An anthem!
"FUCK!" she squawks. "They took my hot dog!"
Reader, I did not marry him.
Last week I'm on the Chinatown bus from DC to NYC, and this guy starts chatting me up. My flimsy magazine is not barrier enough to conversation.