“Dear Edna & Sam, We are enjoying ourselves at the above (??) and hope you could come down with us some time. Cuisine - excellent, dining - divine, dancing - delicious. Written under the influence of pepsicola - please excuse. Love Al and Betty”
Zimmerman’s Hungaria - New York, NY
ATTN cheap dates in NYC: You now have zero excuses for eating somewhere crappy.
Ice ream nachos, why hasn’t anyone capitalized on this before?
Five of us are strapped into a tiny car. A friend of mine had invited me out to dinner with his wife and friends, and we would go out for Israeli food. So against the cardinal rule of childhood, I get into a car with strangers and we headed off to Queens.
The car slowly rolls past the restaurant and it looks closed. Despite the “Grand Opening” sign hanging off the awning, the place is empty. I press up against the window and see a can of orange soda on a table, but nothing else, like the owner put down his drink, walked out and locked the door behind him.
A few blocks later, we find a sufficient Afghani/Persian restaurant. We order many dishes; kabobs, a lot of lamb, and warm pitas. I get doogh, a yogurt soda, which I have never had before.
“Are you rice-etarians? These come with a lot of rice.”
We think the waiter came up with that term. The doogh arrives in a normal soda bottle. It’s white and milky and very salty. I don’t think I will have it ever again. Awkward dinner conversation is dominated by strangers, about foodies and cheese and goats and summer vacations.
After dinner, a visit to the Lemon Ice King is decided. We drive to Corona and order five tiny lemon ices. The ice is tart and soft. I immediately get brain freeze. The park across the street is full of old men. They play bocce ball in the fog and yell in Italian. Everyone is silent and files back to the car. We make small talk as we get on the highway, and when my brain freeze ends, I am already home and hugging my friend goodbye.
Brunch in St Marks Place