The Wandering Eater

Over the weekend, I wanted to go brunching for some reason. Maybe because of feeling restless from sitting on my butt in front of my laptop writing papers ENDLESSLY or studying from law textbooks just makes me want to blind myself? Possibly… So, for a few days before Saturday, I’ve contacted my almost dependable fooding friend, Ariel to ask if he wants to have brunch? After exchanging e-mails infrequently that I known practically last minute where and when we’re meeting. Thanks to my iPod Touch’s WiFi capability, I got the message before leaving the city and abandon Ariel.

Anyways, we met on Saturday at 3 at Houston and Broadway and eventually walked over to the Lower East Side. Honestly, we don’t really know where we’re eating. We’re basically roaming around a few places that he had in mind that strikes his fancy. We stopped by some Latin bistro/tapas place somewhere in the LES, but I don’t remember where it was. All I can recall was that it was a pastel pink exterior and the name started with “A.” It didn’t appeal to me at all and eventually Ariel changed his mind and he wanted to go to Stanton Social.

We started to walk on Stanton going east since I don’t wander around the LES that often and depending on Ariel that he knows where he’s going since he said he passed by this place a few times. Once we were on Clinton & Stanton, we stopped and I was thinking out loud, “Wait a minute…This doesn’t seem right. We’re heading toward WD-50.” Ariel thought a minute and said, “We should be going the right way…I think?” Since we’re doubting ourselves, Ariel whipped out his cell phone and called his younger brother and hope that he would actually give him the address. But since his bro didn’t pick up, I just remembered about my iPod! I prayed mentally that I could pick up a WiFi signal. And yes, it worked! I managed to Google: Stanton Social and I got the address. It turned out, as expected, we were heading the wrong direction. We’re supposed to head out east, not west.

Stanton Social

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Note: If you want to jump to the review of my lunch at Del Posto Enoteca, click here

I’m summarizing my old stuff since it’s not really notable, per se. What I’m referring to were my visit to Macaron Cafe (which you can start viewing photos and my comments on them from here) and a lunch at Balthazar at their bar since there weren’t any tables available when I visited that afternoon (those food photos start here).

Just to sum it up, the macarons from Macaron Cafe were hit-or-miss but it’s really inexpensive. From what was available that morning: cranberry, chocolate, and key lime (which I bought one of each), the best of the three was the key lime but a far cry from Pierre Herme’s heavenly macarons. They’re the size of my palm (about 3 1/2 inches) for $2. It’s the cheapest in the city so far.

A Tower of HUMONGOUS Macarons

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Note: I had other food stuff to write beforehand but this post is waay more interesting. I’ll rewind later on this week, if I have the chance.

Yesterday was arguably the best day I’ve ever had in a while, besides my birthday lunch/celebration. What made it memorable is the fact that since I’m going to face finals next week(!) and my indecisive phase of life contemplating about my career. I don’t know if I want to do paralegal work or flirt with the idea of immersing myself to the food writing/photography world. The latter is quite tempting to go for but since I’m considered a newbie to food writing (and I’m just a blogger, for goodness sake), my chances are almost zilch. I’m freakin’ screwed…. As I’ve rambled a few seconds ago, my nerves are strained, stress is high, and I’m still sick. This day is and was my only highlight from any other day that has passed or coming upon my pending days of doom. Doom.

Anyways, going back to the happier times of yesterday. I got a call from Ariel while I was in my school campus taking care of last minute stuff near 1 PM. Here’s the general idea of our conversation:

Ariel: “Hey. What’s up? Are you in the city by any chance?”
Me: “Uh…nothing much. I’m in the Upper West Side. Why?”
Ariel: “Well, I’m in the city since I was locked out by [something, I don't recall since he's rambling quite fast]. I’m in the East Village right now and I want to check out this coffee shop that New York Magazine just written about…”
Me: “Oh, you mean Abraço. Yeah, I’ve been there before [Note to you people, I've forgotten to write about it but I've posted photos of that visit on my Flickr page back on October 30th.]
Ariel: “You wanna go there again?”
Me: “Yeah. Sure.”
Ariel: “When will I meet you?”
Me: [looking at my watch] “Um…I’ll meet you at 1:30.”
Ariel: “Cool.”
Me: “Alright. See you then.”

After taking care of my school stuff, I hauled my ass downtown to the East Village. Once I arrived there, Abraço’s packed with too many bodies, I mean people. I called Ariel since I don’t see him outside the place nor inside but he’s not picking up. Eventually, a few people left that place and I managed to squeeze myself into this tiny coffee bar with at least ten other people, since I don’t want to escalate my cold to pneumonia.

Eventually I saw Ariel appeared outside and called me which, I picked up and he asked me, “Where are you?” I just reached for the door and opened it for him, giving him my answer. Anyways, I never felt so claustrophobic before. I mean, I’ve ridden in packed subway cars where you’re standing elbow-to-elbow with everyone, but that’s typical; in a coffee shop it’s almost unforeseen for me. Some, like Ariel, would say this is cozy but I like to have some space.

Too. Many. People.

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