wknd 5/31–6/1: big beautiful days
I'm starting this week comfortably but seriously, though perhaps ironically listening to "Nada Importante" by Julieta Venegas over and over.
For the past month or so, I've been running into situations that have pointed out some holes in my life philosophy. My car was towed. My iPhone was lost. My license fell from my pocket on Canal Street and I had no proper identification with which to retrieve a replacement. Thus, a fierce desire to get my shit together but somehow still be the person who makes sure everyone eats dessert.
This weekend, I forgot to bring the chocolates to the park.
But no matter: I was graciously helped recover from the money drainage of my fuck-ups; my new Social Security card is on its way and I have a fresh birth certificate; the DMV was a simple process and allowed me a chance to eat my favorite French fries from European Republic in Huntington; some kind soul mailed my license to my dad's house, so I chilled with my favorite dog for a bit. I'm a very lucky idiot most of the time.
Photographic evidence is lacking, but rest assured I did not let my worries of never-ending bumbling ruin my appetite. Saturday was a beautiful day. The only thing I wanted to do was eat food from Cinnamon Snail because it was in Bushwick for Open Studios, but I was too hungry to make it, so again it was Scratchbread, which I guess I'll eat every Saturday now that I've done it twice. I don't make the rules! There was sufficient time and space in bellies to pick up doughnuts from them, though, and my GOD: They blow all other doughnuts out of the water. I knew this, but every time I eat them it's a revelation of light, fluffy, intensely flavorful goodness. It made me realize definitively my preference for cake doughnuts, as I love Dun Well but their stuff just isn't as satisfying, texture or flavor-wise. Anyway, peanut butter chocolate cheesecake and roasted pistachio cardamom were consumed. Pictures were not taken because shit was too delicious.
Bushwick Open Studios is an awesome event, though I am realizing now that I only really took pictures of the macaron sculpture and bought things from Fine & Raw (aforementioned forgotten truffles, plus an almond-milk coffee shake that I added pink salt and cayenne to, leading to a high-class satisfaction of residual teenage Frappuccino desires). Clearly, I have my preoccupations.
My preoccupations were further indulged by a viewing of Chef at Nitehawk, where I drank two cocktails and consumed a veggie burger + tater tots while almost weeping at the beauty of the food shots and how powerful cooking is. Fellow food obsessive Justin was next to me and we kept gasping and hitting each other. It was a feel-good movie of grand proportions. It also deepened my passion for knuckle tattoos, though that's not difficult to do.
Sunday was for a bit of brunch at Jimmy's Diner with the babely Kerry, followed by a trek to Long Island to visit my mom and sister at the beach, have a brief hang with the right honorable pooch Ms. Quinn, and meet up with my friends on the north shore to watch the sun set over the Sound at Cordwood Park. Before meeting them, I picked up my favorite veggie slice and a salad from my hometown pizzeria, Delfiore, making the whole day even more beautiful and perfect—just a lucky idiot eating pizza on the beach with her buds.