Of so many things I will remember from my first trip to New York City, the food is by far at the top of the list.
As the crossroads of the world, some polls estimate that nearly 170 languages are spoken in the city. Those that speak those languages bring their cultures and with their cultures comes their food.
Within the first two years of moving to North Carolina, I'd tried more new styles of cuisine than I had in my entire life. Singaporean, Vietnamese, Ethiopian, Persian, Thai: I count myself lucky to live in such a vibrant area with so many culinary options.
And then I went to New York. I thought I knew what to expect. I was blown away.
I got off the plane at LaGuardia, took a cab to my friend's apartment, and we promptly set out for dinner, which was Argentine-Turkish fusion. This set the bar high, but nothing failed to exceed expectations.
While I relish and appreciate a wonderful, family-run restaurant where tradition is as much an ingredient as meat, herbs or spices, I'm an absolute sucker for groceries and markets. We wandered in and out of the grocers and fish markets of Chinatown. After marveling at the architecture of Grand Central Station, we proceeded to the station market, where the colors of the fruits, vegetables, salads, deli counter, and bakery selections mingled with a myriad of smells that made for an intoxicating cocktail of sensory overload. Lunch was a simple yet perfectly fresh round of grilled cheese sandwiches at a deli in midtown.
I consider it stupid luck that we didn't make it to Zabar's gourmet market before the last night of my trip (and with only 20 minutes before closing), as I could have easily gone there every day and still not satisfied my curiosity - the cheese case alone could have occupied me for an entire afternoon.
Even just wandering back down Broadway, the neighborhood markets beckoned with their colors and smells. For me, this shot captures all of the sights, smells, tastes, textures, and memories of that trip:
As the crossroads of the world, some polls estimate that nearly 170 languages are spoken in the city. Those that speak those languages bring their cultures and with their cultures comes their food.
Within the first two years of moving to North Carolina, I'd tried more new styles of cuisine than I had in my entire life. Singaporean, Vietnamese, Ethiopian, Persian, Thai: I count myself lucky to live in such a vibrant area with so many culinary options.
And then I went to New York. I thought I knew what to expect. I was blown away.
I got off the plane at LaGuardia, took a cab to my friend's apartment, and we promptly set out for dinner, which was Argentine-Turkish fusion. This set the bar high, but nothing failed to exceed expectations.
 |
| Grilled cheese; John's Diner |
 |
| Coffee, Zabar's window |
Even just wandering back down Broadway, the neighborhood markets beckoned with their colors and smells. For me, this shot captures all of the sights, smells, tastes, textures, and memories of that trip:
 |
| Market on Broadway |
No comments:
Post a Comment