subway

subway is a place where dreams of creative lunches go to die.

today, my lunch was murdered. by me.

what started out as a nostalgic novelty has turned into a crutch. "no more!" i say. no more subway for me.

but i think i might buy one of these awesomely awesome products from their website to commemorate my short love affair with the chain.

here is a subway romance story.


man in sexy black shirt woos you with...


poetry...


and gifts...


yada, yada, yada...you have a baby.

fun!

i need lunch buddies. if you would like to apply for a spot, please email me at soholunch@gmail.com

um, i'm not kidding either.

recognize this guy?

yay! it's creepy camoflauge yarmulke guy!



had to run to midtown to say goodbye to my dear, sweet, amazing momma before she left for texas. she is so nice and beautiful and kind. the best mother anyone could ever ask for.



(she's the one writing the check. to me. what? that means she loves me! it's like a hug, but in paper form.)

wanted to show her the kosher deluxe place. she got a corned beef on rye. i don't eat meat that much anymore but i scarfed down half of that fucker without even stopping to breath.



i got that whole pita salad thing. everthing there is incredible.



lots of ladies in wigs and knee length skirts and tights and pumps. why do the orthodox women always wear navy? check it out bitch. that is my real hair. all mine.

chinese with no chinese waiters

since this place is catering my birthday party, i thought i would give it a try. (yes i am having a huge birthday party and if you didn't know about it then you aren't invited).

chinatown brasserie is on the corner of lafayette and great jones street.

it is HUUUUGE, like 30ft ceilings. the two douchebags who worked the front desk were total assholes. hello, fuckers. you work at a restaurant. don't for one minute think you are better than me.

mom and i had cocktails while we waited for sis. she had a lychee martini (boring), and i had a concord grape martini. now, i know what you are thinking. (oh my god, i was just going to say something sooo wrong). but don't. if you like welch's grape juice then this is the drink for you. if you don't like welch's grape juice then this is the drink for you. it was AWESOME. i can't explain. i would just shoot in there one day during your lunch break to see what i am talking about.



we had hot & sour soup. really good.



and vegetable fried rice. really, really good. i heart fried rice.



and a bunch of dim sum, most of which was good.

i must say, for a huge tourist trap looking restaurant in downtown new york city, the food was yum. tres expensive, but get your investment banker boyfriend to take you.

oh, and chocolate fortune cookies for desert. perfect if you like grape juice.

calling all euros

met my friend maria for lunch. she has that same disease that demi moore has. you know, the one where you never age a day past 27? fucking cunt. if that perpetual youth disorder was sexually transmitted i would close my eyes and make out with her just to catch it.



anywhoo. maria is my ex-boyfriend's best friend/ex-girlfriend (different ex-boyfreind...yah, i have been around). i met her 7 years ago. she once told me i had to stop acting like a brat if i ever wanted people to like me. ouch. but i dig her a lot. plus, she likes to drink. plus she has seen me wasted dancing to britney's "hit me baby, one more time" to a group of 40 year olds in montauk. i can't remember if that was the night before or after i got so drunk i decided to take off all my clothes and do the dishes because i thought i was alone--in front a goup of 40 year olds in montauk.

we had wine at lunch. so decadent i love it. we went to bread on spring between elizabeth and mott.

i have never been to this place during the day and i must say i prefer it. tons of foreigners. a veritable european union. of course, nobody from turkey.

we split an avocado and beet salad and a chicken sandwich thing. warning: the sandwiches aren't under a "sandwich" section. they are under "bread." which is totally counterintuitive if you want the lunch special of "soup and 1/2 sandwich." shouldn't it be "soup and 1/2 bread"? grrr.




they messed up on one thing. gave only gave us half a bread instead of a whole bread. by bread i mean sandwich. you see how confusing this is?



everything was delicious. they guys there were GORGEOUS.

i will go back. for lunch. they take credit cards, but no amex. if i am missing 25.60 miles to make my upgrade, i will go back and burn that place down.

(anita, if you read this, i better see you and your little friend on saturday night.)

bread

again with the noho star

i had all these great ideas about trying new places in soho. but fucking soraya was all moody and we ended up at noho star.

quesadilla was pretty good. chicken and manchego (or machengo?) cheese. frise lettuce. yeah, right. like there is frise lettuce in mexico.





i have no idea where this place buys their tomatoes but they are BLOOD red. incredible. and they taste sweet, not like that pale gritty no taste tomato from a deli.




the best was the hot fudge sundae. vanilla gelato (fancy name for i-c-e c-r-e-a-m), hot fudge, toasted hazelnuts, and real whipped cream.



i kinda like the reddi whip better. i once had a boyfriend tell me that eating food from a box was trashy. that was right after he saw me make kraft macaroni and cheese and a betty crocker cake. i dunno, i always liked that food. and sugary cereal, and coke, and kool aid, and jif full fat with trans fat peanut butter. and instant cream of wheat. and instant pancakes. and aunt jemimi corn syrup, and dole fruit in a cup with light syrup, and leggo my eggos. those were the days.

the best was my granny's "asparagus crisp." listen to this recipe. in a casserole dish (it already starts out bad) layer canned asparagus stalks and pre-shredded cheddar cheese, and lays potato chips. sprinke with paprika. bake until cheese is melted. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW GOOD IT IS.

now i eat beet and goat cheese salad. high class.

no more lunch

lunch has been too boring to photograph. too busy to be creative. fuck, SOMEone has to pay for this blog. blogs don't grow on trees, you know.




went to a place called tom & jerry's. it's a bar, or pub, or whatever. it smells horrible.

i only went because finley was there and i was promised a table full of hot englishmen. well, they were there. they were hot. but i couldn't understad a fucking word they said, so i stared at the giant projector screen playing incredible movies for over 2 hours.

"warriors" should be required viewing on all flights coming into new york city.

how fucking awesome is that movie!!?? how fucking awesome would it be if the subways still had graffiti?? and knife fights still took place in union square??? ugh. it's so BORING here.

some stills. (i think watching with subtitles really enhances the experience. you can fully appreciate the genius dialogue).









now listen, i know that something might look familiar to those of you who know me. and to my friends to whom i gave permission to put thumbtacks in my socks every time i mentioned him, i guess you should make a run to staples.

tom and jerry's

chinga

this is adan. he is my mexican ex-boyfriend. he cheated on me, too.



we ate at a little mexican restaurant. i was cynical--and pissed that i had to walk acrross stinky kenmare street to get there.



the menu looked fab. sister ordered a guava margarita. that shit was off the hook. i need to go back there on a night when a hangover doesn't count, because they had about 12 different flavored margaritas. cucumber? awesome.





this is how they eat corn in mexico. or, maybe that's just me. not quite as good as cafe habana. it was a little mushy and soft. but maybe that's my fault, i have never really been that into, well, "eating corn." i think it could tell.



the enchiladas i had were good. i wish there was more fattening mush on it, cause that is always delicious.



clearly that didn't stop me from shoving nearly the whole plate into my tummy.



sis had fish tacos, they looked good. rice and beans were good. beans a little salty. buti would def go back. it is small and cozy and the waitresses are nice.

cafe el portal

big bro

i am so pissed. i forgot to bring my camera to lunch and it was such a good one!

we met this awesome guy, eric, for lunch. eric is a very special person. he gave us all sorts of advice on business and life. his best piece of advice was to be a hard ass. i think that means i need to go to the gym more? i mean, i guess having a hard ass can get you what you want in life...



went to pastis. i had a cheeseburger. it was $14, but worth it. gruyere cheese makes me feel sophisticated. the burgers there are always good. fries are always good. lunch is the only time to go to pastis. don't even THINK about dinner. it's way too hectic.

sick

i went away. out of the country. to a place where the food was horrible. but the surfing was fun, until i stepped on a sea urchin.



that is what i had for lunch today. i almost slept through lunch on the plane except the sweet woman next to me who dressed up for the flight and did that cross thing on her face before take off goes:

"lady. lady!" with a nudge. "you wan de lunch?"

i said no, sweetly. poor thing, she just wanted me to get my full fair's worth of experience. but then i saw it was penne with tomato sauce. i CANNOT pass up penne with tomato sauce on a plane. so i grabbed the gay steward (do they still call them that?) by the ass, he got excited until he saw i was a chick, and demanded a plastic tray of my own. i scarfed it down. every last mushy noodle.

this is what i had for dinner.

outta town

been gone for a bit.

i have a lot of catching up to do.

finlay

or is it finnley, or finly or whatever.

finlay is a scottish photographer friend. he is NUTS. one of my top 10 nights in new york city was with him a year ago. no funny stuff at all, just fun stuff.

i hopped over to ditch plains to meet him for din din. i was on the phone ordering domino's when i got the click through. and thank goodness because otherwise i would be sober in bed watching ken burns's "the war" on pbs wondering what it would be like to not shower for 6 months. and all that other gruesome death stuff.

made finley take an oyster shooter. i took the oyster out of my shot because it looked like a huge pussy, and i don't put those in my mouth.



my other friend told some woman he knew there that i was a food critic. i was sure that would get us a free something, but apparently it only got us too much description of the dishes. here is a suggestion from a food critic, ma'am. the fish tacos need some spice, and that tabasco sauce on the table is not going to cut it. but good job on the corn tortillas and enough lime for each taco. i also applaud the change in the menu (after over a year, it is about fucking time). and good job putting the burgers on proper plates instead of baskets like we are at the state fair.



ok. ran into a friend's ex fiance upon exit. AWKWARD. she got fat. best revenge, that and he has a totally hot new girlfriend. --whatever....your mother...works...at mcdonalds.... (finlay taught me that. it's a little interactive and doesn't translate well throught text)

N E way. went to blue ribbon's new wine bar on bedford street. (HEY YOU! IF I WALK IN AND YOU RECOGNIZE ME, GIVE ME YOUR SEAT, BITCH. THIS PLACE IS SMALL AND I AM DOING YOU A FAVOR BY EVEN TELLING YOU ABOUT IT.)

i had a hummingbird. it was st. germain, champagne, and soda with strawberries floating in it. too cute.




finlay had a fancy margarita. roi had a scotch. then we all were dry and ready for more.

while roi nearly passed out next to us, we ordered the champagne tasting. it's neat their little tastings. they give you basically half full glasses of three different varieties of a specific something or other. only the wine nerds know what the fuck is really going on. finlay knocked over and shattered the glass of $180/BOTTLE champagne. i was just laughing. all the wine nerds hated us.

then, we had some sick, stinky rum. it smelled like cow shit but apparently that was considered good?



i gave mine to finlay because i would rather drink gasoline than that funky "fancy" stuff. seriously? it tasted like everclear mixed with brown sugar. he drank 'em both. i told him i would try harder to keep up with him tomorrow...

whatever, your mother works at mcdonald's. WMWM.

xo

blue ribbon bar

ditch plains

rice is nice

a photographer, a lawyer, a slut, and a slut walk into a restaurant. i don't take pictures and i have no regard for the law. which leaves only two choices... hmmm.

no one cares.

today we had a big photoshoot because we are famous uber models. i don't joke.

after, we went to rice. their new digs are hot. so cute with the open windows and trees in the back.

i don't recommend the ginger iced tea. what the fuck is it with new york and their fucking left wing iced teas? lipton. that's it. lipton tea bag in hot water. then pour it over ice. for fucks sake, it's not gourmet. (and i think it should be law that all iced teas have free refills)

here's katy modeling the latest fried rice chip. we thought it was pork rinds for the longest time. who knew?



katy is a criminal defense lawyer. that's right. so, like, if you get mad at your ex for cheating on you and you cut his penis in half and tie it in a knot like a pretzel, she will "advise" you to admit that you just "slipped" while carrying a razor sharp pelting knife and in an attempt to ease your fall you grabbed on the first thing you could and got really twisted about as you fell down and, gosh...your honor, it was horrible, just horrible. things like that just can't be made up, sir. she is a mighty fine lawyer.

(by the way. every single person i have dated has cheated on me. well, except burt, but his name was burt...nuf said.)

here is my pho. took the beef out. it was ehh. but it's hard to compete against my first love, nha trang. lots of lime helped.



here are the jerked chicken wings. those are great.



i also recommend the lentil stew with brown rice.

cokes come in glass bottles.

CASH ONLY. someone tell the IRS, cause you KNOW shit is going down. is rice street language for a drug? i wouldn't know. i am too old and out of the loop. plus i stick to prescription pills to get stoned. ever take ambien and stay awake. it is quite possibly the best fun.

omg. for dessert i picked up this fake looking cake at steve's bodega on bowery. the sticker said it is from FN bakery in the bronx. maybe jlo ate there.



it is fucking UNBELIEVABLE! it's perfect yellow cake and fluffy marshmallow icing that looks like shaving cream and guava jam between the two layers. i mean i can't believe how good it is. i am totally getting them to make my birthday cake.



this is how uber models eat icing.

aaawwwsoooommme!!

this is way cooler than a picture of the brie and tomato baguette i had for lunch!





they're testing to see if i am human. they say i have a 50/50 shot.

by the looks of that pitch black blood, i'd say more like 20/80.

by the way, quest diagnostics is a very, very strange place. you walk in, they take your blood, and you walk out. i bet there are less diseases in those biohazard trash bins then there are in my coffee from the deli. it's not too bad of an experience. they play Z 100 really loud and that seems to make everyone chipper.

i think it would be cool to be a "phlebotomist." just so i could say i was a phlebotomist. phlebotomist. phlebotomist. it sounds funnier the more you say it. phlebotomist....