Intersections: Cities

The last time I went to New York in 2011, I had dinner one night. I alone in a lovely bistro in Little Italy. All my friends and contacts were either out of town or "very busy". (Well, what's New York?) Then, that morning, my stomach woke me up and asked me to vomit every last piece of the four cheese paste I was carrying. It was not a fart or raw fart, it was just a mystery.

Another night, I had dinner with an old friend at a Brooklyn restaurant where every waiter and bartender had tattoos and pasta lenses. In the sound system they only played hits like 2002 and 2003, that is, Bloc Party, Yeah Yeah Yeahs! and Chromeo, all with a big smile that I could not decipher if it was a joke or nostalgia. At the airport back to Mexico, I just wanted something fresh-something-so I bought a red apple for about $ 1.50 at the terminal. I took a bite and noticed something was weird. The heart of the apple was completely black.

Well, it was rare times. It was April, but the weather felt like February. The city was cold, rainy and everyone complained that "winter did not end." He did not understand why it was getting dark at four o'clock in the afternoon, suddenly the sky was sinking into a depressing purple. The cold spread to the people.

As a good New Yorker, I suppose. In New York City, there's no time for bullshit.

Anyway, I did not have a good time in 2011. But last week, when I returned to the Northeast for a couple of days, impressions, and the city in this case consented to me. The weather was spectacular. And although New York has had its hard days - the Sandy hurricane, the racist Stop-and-Frisk law, and the brutal gentrification and classism generated by the corruption of large financial groups - being a city of mop people and moved and beautiful as it has been for centuries.

You can have a good time, drink well and definitely eat well. But yes, if you have wool / silver / baro / fair. This was what I ate in 48 hours in New York City, and what it cost me.


> Arriving, I took the subway from the airport to Williamsburg, where I stayed with a dear friend. After waking up the neighbor downstairs (sorry), I was given keys and decided to have a night out and see Brooklyn for a little while before a day's work on Wednesday at VICE headquarters.

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roomie of my friend, Scott, decided to accompany me, and we went to the Metropolitan in Williamsburg. It's a divey bar, punk, ghetto, ambisexual, queer, not horrible gays and all their friends. One night here in 2011 I met and talked for a while with a lesbian girl raised as a Chassidic Jew, super mop. As I anticipated, tonight there were people. Men with long white beards and leather jackets, modern in fashion, dressed in dudes in caps, cute girls; It was QUEERAOKE night. I took two local Brooklyn chelas, five dollars each, and invited a Diet Coke to my friend Scott. More tip, I spent $ 16 .


The next day, I wanted a cute breakfast in Brooklyn, but I woke up late, and wanted to get to the office quick. Then I stopped at another deli on Bedford Avenue and here the Mexican cook said to him, "You give me an egg and cheese," to which he replied: An egg and cheese, you want it on roll Mexicans chambeando in the Northeast always want to assure all the clients - including the Mexicans - that they can do bizness in English, that in perfect English. are good migrants. The cheese and egg sandwich with bacon was simple, serviceable. With green bottle juice, my breakfast started at $ 8 . Next, in a cafe with too much style, I ordered a latte to accompany, <4 dollars.

They did not have cinnamon, as I always add to any coffee, and they saw me with crazy face for having asked. Overnight he had spent almost 40 dollars on food, and everything from bar to wine cellar, nothing fancy.

At meal time we got together to eat with fellow VICE Mexico who were also in those directions. Our content director Bernardo Loyola knew a good Japanese ramen place on Grand Street, although he said that Fette Sau was "the best restaurant in New York". I did not hesitate, but the whole joke of the place was the celebration of pork, pure pig, and there was a vegetarian among us.

"I think it's because Chassidic Jews do not eat pork, and everything in New York is contradictory to what it was like before gentrification," Will told me. "They are economies dictated by the yuppies that say 'The pig can be prepared deliciously for nine dollars the order, and that we will adopt and embrace.'"

And then added I think pork is delicious.

  • Adam Floyd