1. Pommes Frites
Christina-Amazing delicious heaven god allah yahweh sauces with a lil-crispy chunky belgium fries in a cute cone.
Marie--Let's not beat around the bush here. Some places are popular for a reason. Pommes Frites is pretty consistently packed, and that is because it's really fucking delicious. Get the black truffle mayo or mix the mango and chili sauces. Nnnf.
2. The Strand
Christina-So many books. NO CHAIRS. find a book then go downstairs to the law or criminal section (oddly close...) and sit down and read semi-guilt-free.
Marie--A chair, a chair, my kingdom for a chair. But it's no biggie, because the Strand is pretty dang rad and you can find all of the esoteric and out-of-date history books you'd ever need there, as well as a fine selection of everything else (unless you're looking for a very specific book, for some reason. Then you're screwed)
3. Search and Destroy
Christina-Everything is too expensive but it's nice to be stroll around amidst the porn and leather.
Marie--the prices aren't TOO bad and most things are great. This is the only place I've ever been too that plays Oi! on the sound system, though, so I might be biased in their favor.
4. Caracas
Christina-Yummy arepas full of the best meat and freshest food. A bit pricey but their flan is sweeter than your mama (that is now a phrase).
Marie--Get an arepa. Oh my god. The best. You should also buy a can of Colita, which tastes a little like bubblegum but mostly like falling in love.
5. Veselka
Christina-Pierogi. 24/7. And a surprisingly delicious Beet Salad. The sausages are also deliciously tender and come from the butcher shop across the way. They also have a cookbook!
Marie--Pierogies.
6. Landmark Sunshine Cinema
Christina-This tiny-but-tall theater has all the artsy farts films as well as classics. Tickets are a bit much ($13), but you where else are you gonna get your almadovar fix?
Marie--This place is so cool and I want to make out with it oh my god. Um. They play some incredible classics (term used loosely to encompass every film I enjoy) at midnight, and you should absolutely check those out. They also show new-but-slightly-obscure stuff, if you're into that kinda thing (I am).
7. Housing Works
Christina-It's a great artistic community and location for events. There's a cafe and fashion section as well! It's volunteer-run and goes towards supporting AIDs victims and family.
Marie--Housing Works is really just fantastic. Even if you're not looking for something to read, the events of theirs that I've attended have been insanely great. As Christina mentioned, they promote some insanely good causes, so don't feel bad about blowing all of your money there.
Showing posts with label it sucks to be 18 without a fake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label it sucks to be 18 without a fake. Show all posts
Dec 4, 2011
Nov 23, 2011
3:24 AM Post
Give us more testimonials so that we may seem popular and rule the world. They can be good, bad, off-topic, on-topic, ironic, stupid, whatever.
Nov 21, 2011
No place for ironic fugly sweaters here
For anyone who hasn’t yet been disappointed, Joe’s Pub is a misnomer. “Pub” emanates sweaty man-stink and liquor. But this audience is delicately composed of upper-class and middle-aged statues.
Yet another fullstop in my search for a great all-ages, no-cover jazz venue. (next stop is Fat Cat)
Disappointments keep piling on. In addition to the $40 ticket, there’s a $12 meal minimum. Which is easy considering that’s the price of the hummus appetizer. I puncture the plain, applesauce-textured slush pile and wait for the only reason I’m here: Allen Toussaint.
Allen Toussaint is a legend in the New Orleans jazz scene and he knows it. After an introduction and few apologies from the Joe’s Pub manager, Toussaint emerges from the velvet black curtains.
In a sparkly tuxedo. Sparkly. Tuxedo.
Sparkly.
Tuxedo.
The best part? It doesn’t fucking matter. Yes, he may look like a washed-up 3PM game show host, but I don’t really care. (Although I’m slightly disappointed by the simple setup: no drums or bass. not even a trio Toussaint? a trio?). Because Allen Toussaint is first and foremost a storyteller.
Toussaint’s fingers spread, spring and bounce up and down the piano keys, it’s as if the last 50 years haven’t happened. Rock, hip-hop, rap, dub-step have all been erased and you’re kicked down the well of history to land in the South in all its jazz and blues glory. Toussaint begins with “Southern Nights,” which is a catchy, nostalgic lullaby. He then goes through some of his classic songs, finishing each with a song about the characters. But his masterpiece is his final song.
Toussaint lulls us back in a full circle. We recognize the “Southern Nights” piano riffs, high and lazy, laid back to the point of being out of tempo but it still makes it. Toussaint soothes us with the piano as he begins to tell stories of traveling to visit his Creole relatives, his low baritone voice raspy, he smiles a little between each memory and each riff. He spreads a web around us and we see the Southern Nights as he did as a kid. Houses a shotgun apart and bleached bone-grey. Aunts with funny names and accented tirades who can smother you in too-large bosoms, dying from love and maternal warmth. Lounging safe and warm on a porch engulfed by a blackness and silence unknown in the city. His music becomes a magic act has he conjures up this Southern Night In the middle of the afternoon in the middle of New York City. Its a blackness that covers and soothes everyone in the room. And when you leave the light's a bit too bright and the city a bit too loud.
Song as a story. I'm disappointed that it's a surprise.
Yet another fullstop in my search for a great all-ages, no-cover jazz venue. (next stop is Fat Cat)
Disappointments keep piling on. In addition to the $40 ticket, there’s a $12 meal minimum. Which is easy considering that’s the price of the hummus appetizer. I puncture the plain, applesauce-textured slush pile and wait for the only reason I’m here: Allen Toussaint.
Allen Toussaint is a legend in the New Orleans jazz scene and he knows it. After an introduction and few apologies from the Joe’s Pub manager, Toussaint emerges from the velvet black curtains.
In a sparkly tuxedo. Sparkly. Tuxedo.
Sparkly.
Tuxedo.
The best part? It doesn’t fucking matter. Yes, he may look like a washed-up 3PM game show host, but I don’t really care. (Although I’m slightly disappointed by the simple setup: no drums or bass. not even a trio Toussaint? a trio?). Because Allen Toussaint is first and foremost a storyteller.
Toussaint’s fingers spread, spring and bounce up and down the piano keys, it’s as if the last 50 years haven’t happened. Rock, hip-hop, rap, dub-step have all been erased and you’re kicked down the well of history to land in the South in all its jazz and blues glory. Toussaint begins with “Southern Nights,” which is a catchy, nostalgic lullaby. He then goes through some of his classic songs, finishing each with a song about the characters. But his masterpiece is his final song.
Toussaint lulls us back in a full circle. We recognize the “Southern Nights” piano riffs, high and lazy, laid back to the point of being out of tempo but it still makes it. Toussaint soothes us with the piano as he begins to tell stories of traveling to visit his Creole relatives, his low baritone voice raspy, he smiles a little between each memory and each riff. He spreads a web around us and we see the Southern Nights as he did as a kid. Houses a shotgun apart and bleached bone-grey. Aunts with funny names and accented tirades who can smother you in too-large bosoms, dying from love and maternal warmth. Lounging safe and warm on a porch engulfed by a blackness and silence unknown in the city. His music becomes a magic act has he conjures up this Southern Night In the middle of the afternoon in the middle of New York City. Its a blackness that covers and soothes everyone in the room. And when you leave the light's a bit too bright and the city a bit too loud.
Song as a story. I'm disappointed that it's a surprise.
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