The Further Adventures of the Five Little Pigs

Day 2:  Today, our day consisted of walking, shopping and eating, not necessarily in that order.  Katie and I started the day by heading out on foot in search of breakfast.  Our route took us past some really cool government buildings that just oozed historical significance (I don't know if they really were historically significant; they just looked it) and right through the heart of Chinatown.  

My apologies to any fans of the neighborhood, but I'm kind of not into Chinatown.  It's pretty grubby, which in and of itself is no great crime, considering much of the city is the same, but, I don't know... it almost feels like the whole darn neighborhood has this thin layer of dust covering it or something.  Not that it does necessarily, but...just not my thing, I guess.  Anyway, our destination was the Doughnut Plant, and by golly, it was worth the walk.  I'll be honest, I don't normally brake for donuts (Krispy Kreme Hot Now's excepted).  Not that they're bad, exactly; just not really worth the calories, in my opinion.  (I'm always convinced I can taste all of the crud in the oil they were fried in.)  These were the first donuts I've ever eaten that were actually good by any standard, not just a donut standard.  We ordered a vanilla bean and (homemade) blackberry jam yeast donut, a gingerbread cake donut, and a cinnamon roll thingy, and we totally feasted, and I would have happily gone back and eaten my way through the display case.  While we were there, Dan and Em caught up with us and ordered some stuff, which we, of course, had to sample.

The four of us took off from there and headed out for some retail therapy, guided by Kate's excellent leadership. (Shhhhh Dan!  We got to see a whole bunch of the city we wouldn't have seen otherwise!)  We were headed for SoHo, which has some really fantastic shopping (I've pretty much resolved that I'm not going to bother with the local malls anymore; I'll just save my pennies, and twice a year or so, I'll book a cheap ticket and hotel room for a night, go up there and shop until I drop), but along the way, we passed some really interesting sights.  I had to take a picture or two of the little markets we passed, with their produce and flowers and fish all spread out, right there next to the sidewalk.  It was really picturesque and, I don't know, urban.  We also walked down Bowery, which was lined with storefront after storefront filled with new and used restaurant equipment.  I had no idea that's what the area is known for, but how incredibly cool.  OH and, lest I forget, Katie and I were photographed by a fashion blogger.  We still haven't decided whether it was for the Fashion Do or the Fashion Don't page, but still!  

A flower stand!  Dude, if I could walk past a flower stand every day on my way home...

Because I have no earthly idea what any of this stuff even is... 

Our next serious stop (no, I'm not kidding) was Rice to Riches, which sells nothing but rice pudding.  I totally judged the book by its cover when I walked in, and my judgment was not friendly.  You could tell the owners were gearing up to be the next Mochi or something - slick decor, clever witticisms all over the walls, smart-aleck names for everything... it was obvious that the concept had been focus-grouped within an inch of its life.  To my surprise, though, the product itself wasn't bad!  Of course, I have a weak spot for rice pudding, so I'm probably not the stoniest heart to walk through its doors, but I really enjoyed it.  We split up for a little while and did some shopping; I spotted, fell in love with, bargained for, and ultimately bought my first real fur (relax, it was a vest, not a full-on coat) in this quiet, nameless little boutique manned by a charming Frenchman and his assistant, and I spotted, fell in love with, and did not buy some really cool jewelry hawked by a street vendor.  She wanted 20 bucks for a necklace and wouldn't even bother bargaining with me - like I'm going to fall for that?  Amazing how the street works its magic on a consumer...  

 

In no time at all, it was time for lunch.  I had my heart set this trip on a real Jewish deli experience.  I've heard Katz's and Carnegie are both good, authentic delis, but both boast lines that just about wind around the block, so we opted for Mile End Deli, which is one of the new, up-and-comers trying to make their mark in the genre with house-cured and homemade everything.  The food was good, especially the chopped liver and poutine (some readers may remember this gravy-swathed french fry and cheese curd concoction from the Canada trip); I enjoyed it, but I think I'd still like to try one of the old-guard places.

I wouldn't mind if my front porch looked just like this.

 

We rounded out the afternoon with still more shopping, interspersed with a refueling stop at Think Coffee, which was totally my kind of place, replete as it was with tattooed starving-artist types behind the counter, local and organic menu offerings, and a decidedly nerdy, dark-rimmed glasses-sporting clientele.  Of course, all the better for the fact that I was with my brother-in-law, who I derive great enjoyment from horrifying, and whose thoroughly yuppie soul is repelled by surroundings such as these.  So yeah, that one was a win.  

This place is legendary among New York food circles... Good-looking peeps, no?

This store was completely EPIC.  Also very expensive.  But, gosh!  The treasures in there!

I was completely hashed by the end of the day; you know that feeling when your senses go on strike and inform you that you're, just, done?  I hit my limit in the middle of a swarming Century 21 department store (which is a really cool store, by the way).  I had just enough strength to walk back to the hotel, supplemented by a pretzel from the sweet Egyptian guy who wondered if Katie and I were from Dublin and who invited us to his hookah bar in Queens, I think it was (belly dancing on Tuesdays!).  Just a few minutes to rest and refresh, and back on the street, headed to dinner.

Dinner tonight was at Morimoto, an Asian restaurant Andrew recommended, and I think I would be safe in calling it our big, statement meal for the trip.  The place is classic "event" dining - you brush through the theatrical red curtains at the entrance to be greeted by elegantly-dressed hostesses who lead you past banquettes full of beautiful people and seat you in plush, white-upholstered chairs amidst soaring, dramatic architecture, all glass and concrete and steel beams, after which you peruse the offerings described in the all lower-case font of the moment, ultimately choosing the omikase tasting menu, which is purported to "allow you to experience the essence of morimoto's cuisine".  You then proceed to spend the next two hours  engaged in languid conversation and basking in comfort as countless waiters and waitresses bustle about, placing dish after dish after flawlessly-executed dish before you, to be whisked away and replaced by another, just as soon as you rest your chopsticks in their sleek little holder.

Not pictured, among other things, the most incredibly delicious green apple sorbet, and the funky little homemade mochi.

It's heady stuff; the kind of dining where you want to wear your sexiest heels and take just a little more time with the eyeliner.  I like doing it once in awhile - makes a person feel special and important and part of the action, which does have its charm.  Honestly, though, for me, that sort of restaurant experience is far less about the food (which, don't get me wrong, is very, very good, in the most professional, cheffy sort of way) and more about the scene - about how it makes you feel.  And, at the end of the day, I'm a food girl more than a scene girl, so once in awhile usually does the trick for me.  Generally, I'm happier in the quirky, off-the-beaten-path places, manned by a brilliant, passionate food nerd or three in the tiny kitchen, serving up amazing victuals onto mis-matched plates and trotting them out into a dining room furnished with whatever mishmash of tables and chairs and secondhand decor they could cobble together. 

Still, though, I would highly recommend a Morimoto-style, fine dining experience at least once to anyone who hasn't tried it.  Yes, you pay well for the privilege, but, like anything, you get what you pay for, and, really, everybody deserves to be Cinderella once in awhile!