Here is the very belated Part 2 of my New York Food Diary.. Sorry about that I’ve been a tad busy with exams and all that! I hope you’re all fine and dandy and not suffering too much from my lack of blog posts. I know you must miss them all dearly. (Just say you do even if you don’t..)
This blog post is going to be a bit of a memory test for me as it has been a whole two and a bit months since I was there. But hey, whose fault is that? *raises hand shamefully*
Anywayyy, back to the important stuff: FOOD. So you’d think having just had a night filled with burgers, fries, ice-cream sundaes and cookies I would have taken it easy a bit the next day. I woke up with that intention, however I went to bed again with that now very familiar I’mabouttopopoutofmypyjamaseventhoughtheyareelasticated feeling.
I was quite proud of myself though, as I gathered all the will power I had left in me to say “no” to the chocolate chip pancakes drenched with melted butter and maple syrup and the crunchy yet fluffy french toast which I imagine would be just heavenly… Where was I again? Oh yes, I said “no” to all that. I know, I surprised myself too. Do you know what I got instead? A fruit cup. A very sad-looking fruit cup. Well perhaps it was me who was sad-looking, as I looked across to the much more appetising-looking things around me. I’m sure the fruit cup was beautiful, but let’s be honest. How good can a fruit cup look when it’s competing against french toast and pancakes? I didn’t take a picture of the fruit cup because, I mean, well, it’s a fruit cup. Oh no.. I feel like a bully now. The fruit cup was delicious, maybe the best fruit cup I’ve ever had.. It’s just, we all know what I’d rather have had.. Never-ending apologies go to the fruit cup, you were wonderful and did the best that you could do. All is ok, I’ve given it a shout-out now. It should feel appreciated. Gosh I don’t think I’ve ever spoken so much about a fruit cup in my life. Sorry, that went on a bit…
After brekkie we went to the Guggenheim where I ate the most perfect pecan pie (oh, steady on with the alliteration!) ever at their cafe. A crispy pastry base, a gooey, buttery filling with golden, caramelised pecans on top. My friend and I couldn’t stop going on about it for the whole day. Every half an hour or so we would just pause and say “Ahh, that pecan pie was so good.” So if you ever find yourself in the Guggenheim, go to the cafe and have the pecan pie. I reckon their pecan pie should be exhibited too.
Next up, we popped into the FAO Schweetz section of FAO Schwartz. I did enjoy the name FAO Schweetz, thought it was quite fun really! So from there I bought all things Peanut Butter. Peanut Butter cups, peanut butter fudge, a peanut butter chocolate bar, Butterfingers bites andddd oh yeah, peanut butter balls. So.. can you tell I like peanut butter?! We then took a visit to the bakery section where they had the most adorable display of cakes and cookies and pastries and more cakes and more cookies and more pastries. It was perf. My friend bought a Red Velvet Cupcake and very kindly offered me a bite to which I obviously said “YES!” to. I hope I didn’t take too big a bite Diana..! 🙂 It was just as you would imagine a Red Velvet Cupcake in New York to be.. Fluffy, moist and generous frosting of course! Notice I have given Red Velvet Cupcake capital letters. This is because.. She. Is. Royalty! We also indulged in a few of the peanut butter treats which were all supposed to be for my family, but they don’t have to know about that.. Well, I guess they do now because they all (hopefully) read my blog. Sorry family, my peanut butter addiction took over.
So the pecan pie and sweeties kind of acted as my lunch. Yes, ok, ok, no need to judge.. I know it wasn’t exactly the most “balanced meal” but it happened, so let’s just leave it. Thank you, kindly. By the time we got to dinner we were all famished due to a slight confusion with the restaurants. Just to avoid future mishaps.. Buca di Beppo and Bubba Gump Shrimp are very different restaurants in very different areas. I guess they both begin with “B” which might be confusing…? It worked out alright in the end though as I managed to convince myself that all the walking around to wrong restaurants probably burnt off most of my large mountains of pasta and chocolate brownie. Looking back, I probably burnt off a forkful of brownie and a tube of penne pasta.
So on the menu was.. More chicken parmigiana (I didn’t mind), some kind of amazing, cheesy, creamy chicken pasta with broccoli and a good ole slice of fudge chocolate brownie for pud. “Goodness that sounds awfully rich,” you might say. Nope. My tummy was now fully accustomed to and could handle, with great ease, the rich, carby, giant-portioned food that New York had to offer. I enjoyed every bit of it and probably could have devoured another 1234567890 portions of it. I know, impressive. I soon began to feel more pride than guilt, starting to consider a future career in competitive eating. (This dream faded when I saw a glimpse of the numbers on the weighing scales at home. I say “glimpse” as I jumped off the scales and ran away from them before the numbers could carry on ticking upwards.) I’m also very sorry that these photos aren’t very good.. That is down to the bad lighting and predominantly my impatience to tuck in!
Next day. Same fruit cup scenario for breakfast. We then took a boat trip to Liberty Island and on the way back I shared a fresh pretzel which was, like everything else, super yummy.
Shopping, shopping, shopping.. PIZZA! Greasy, cheesy, shameless. Shopping, shopping, shopping, airport.. MORE PIZZA! Greasier, cheesier, more shameless. It’s all a blur to me now but I think what followed was a significant number of peanut butter sweeties (sorry family again!) and throw a few pastries from Starbucks in there too! I then stopped eating, took a moment and started to comprehend all that I had just eaten.
I then went back to Starbucks and got some water and ice. The time was now about 11pm, the flight was delayed and the tiredness started to kick in. For the next half an hour I sat next to my friend popping ice cubes into my mouth, one by one saying.. “this one is a bite of chocolate,” “this one is a mouthful of cake,” “this is a slurp of milkshake.” I would occasionally pass Katie an ice-cube too and ask her what hers was. Being the lovely girl that she is, she agreed to play my game with me like a babysitter would play what the baby wants to play. This drunk-like behaviour continued for a while until it was time to board the plane and I had run out of ideas. I imagine Katie was immensely relieved at this point. I am extremely sorry that you had to put up with that, Katie, I must have driven you insane! (P.S. Sorry I didn’t take photos of the ice cubes, I’m sure you would have enjoyed them!)
So ladies and gents, this concludes my New York Food Diary. I hope you’ve enjoyed it almost as much as I enjoyed the food.. Not possible!
See you soon!