Over the weekend, my dear friend Lucy introduced me to the
world of jungle juice. She went to college in the south and apparently this is
what they drink at the dorm parties there. If everyone else already knows about
this stuff I apologize, but I did not until now. So the deal is, you mix up
some Kool-aid and Everclear. Everclear is a grain alcohol that can be
substituted for vodka. Due to its very high alcohol content it is very hard to
find and even illegal in many states. This concoction is mixed up in a garbage
can and one dunks their cup in like a ghetto-fabulous punch bowl.
Now you might be wondering why we were drinking such a
thing. It was not that we were hitting up the dustbin, oh-no-no. We were
attending a white trash themed party. We went all out on costumes and even went
as far as to incorporate our beverages in as well. Since we live in a state
that does not feel Everclear should be available for consumption, we went with
the cheapest and strongest vodka available and chose black cherry Kool-Aid. We
drank the mix out of Chinese quart containers with a straw, not quite a garbage
can but worked well.
So as you have probably guessed by now, the stuff was pretty
awful. We modified it with extra sugar and switched the vodka over to Kettle
One. No one would know the vodka was not a white trash brand, the containers
were enough to get the point across. Not sure how many quarts we drank, but
when I woke up in the morning, I felt fine. Slightly astonished on how that
could be - I later realized that I was simply still drunk and Motrin was
eventually needed.
Not going to lie, I am still curious about the Everclear….
After some late morning shopping with my lovie Jess, we
decided to stop for a late afternoon lunch. Burger’s were in order since it was
spring break and we needed a little grease after an open mic night the evening
before.
My facebook friend Mike had just opened a burger joint a few
days before so we decided to give it a whirl. It became a bit of a search due
to the fact that I thought he said it was located in Holtsville. After taking a tour of that town, we stumbled
across it in Holbrook. Hey, they
both start with an H and are located next door to one another.
So after our Harold and Kumar adventure, without Doogie or
the drugs, we arrived at Home Run Burgers. The carry-out burger joint is
located on the wedge on Main street, a great traffic pattern for this fast-food
establishment. There is ample parking in the rear and a neatly manicured
landscape surrounds the brick patio in the front. Once inside, there is a line
to order and separate one for pick-up. Sports memorabilia lines one of the
white tiled walls that is bordered with blue and red-checkered tiles. One can’t
deny a nostalgic all American feeling here.
Burger choices are a single, double, or triple Angus burger
with or without cheese, pickles, and onions. The most expensive burger on the
menu is the Homerun Burger with two ¼ pound patties, bacon, lettuce, tomato,
onions, and cheese: $4.99. The menu also boasts a Chicken slider, a cheese dog,
and a Philly cheese steak. There are onion rings, fries, cheese fries, and
chili cheese fries as well. You can even order an old fashioned milkshake or a
fountain soda to wash it all down.
Jess and I indulged in a tasty cheeseburger, a cheese dog
with an extra soft and fresh bun, and cheese fries. Next time we will ask for
more cheese as it was a bit scant. That and two sodas came to a mere 10 bucks. We
enjoyed our meal on the patio. The place was hopping and we chose to sit on the
slate retaining wall, although there were four umbrellaed (-ellaed, ellaed...) tables that each sat
eight. If the weather was not conducive to dining outside, there are ten stools
and counters along the front windows. Of course you could always get your
burgers to go.
Home Run Burgers is open every night until 10 pm and until
midnight on Fridays and Saturdays.
I have the mentality of a 300-pound woman. Fortunately, for
bathing suit sake, I don’t particularly care for the typical American fare. I
would prefer to eat Thai, Turkish, Japanese, Afghani, or even Spanish any day.
Since my preferred comestibles are not at my immediate
disposal, nor do I yet have a personal chef, I do not eat as much as I would or
could. While there is some diversity in restaurants around my zip code, they
all seem to be watered down variants. So when I learned about Choice Eats, my inner glutton got really excited.
The Village Voice has curated Choice Eats for three years
now. It is a tasting event that features over 60 restaurants (64 this year)
from the five boroughs of New York,
handpicked by the food critics of The Village Voice. The restaurants represent
35 different ethnic cuisines. This is so
my thing. Then I found out there would also be an array of beer, wine, and
liquor to be sampled. This is SO my thing.
As soon as tickets became available, I purchased two.
Tickets were $35 each, not bad for an all you can eat expo
paired with alcohol samplings. For an additional $30, one could get in an hour
early with no wait and access to the VIP area. A bit pricy for a perk but VIP
included a few more tasting areas, unlimited Stella, Leffe, and Hoegarden, and
mixed drinks from Dinner with The Band host Sam Mason. There was also a goody
bag. The rockstar that I am, I went for VIP.
I traveled to the 69th Armory on Lexington with my fellow food lover Lucy.
Upon entering the VIP area, we started with dessert, why not? I sampled a
mini-cupcake from Kumquat Cupcakery
of NYC. The heavenly little chocolate cake was topped with vanilla frosting and
a sprinkling of roasted pistachios. It was the perfect size to eat in one tasty
bite. We then headed over to the special host Sam Mason who was pouring rhubarb
gimlets. I like a gimlet and I like sour, but this concoction did not appeal to
my palate. I switched to Leffe Blonde, an amber colored and fresh and fruity
Belgian with a hint of caramel. Much yummier than the gimlet. My favorite
sampling in VIP was from Tiffin Wallah,
a vegetarian Indian restaurant located in Murray Hill. Much to my vegetarian
friend’s delight, and to my taste buds, sweet rice with currants was topped with
a spicy curry and savory yogurt sauce. I think I could have possibly eaten this
all night.
But alas, we moved upstairs for the main event. Another
advantage to VIP is that we got in earlier than the non-rockstars and were able
to visit many tables before the place packed out, as it surely did. By 8:00 it
was becoming hard to navigate a full belly through the crowd. I suggest if you
attend next year, go VIP or get there early. So here are some of my tops,
restaurants I look forward to visiting soon:
Patacon Pisao: A
Venezuelan restaurant with a location in Inwood and another in Elmhurst. They served the Cachapa Sandwich,
which was made of a sweet cornmeal bread wrapped around melted mozzarella and
parmesan with a smothering of sour cream on top. Sweet and cheesy goodness.
El Almacén: Located in Williamsburg, the
Argentinian chef/owner served up a delectable Peruvian sweet potato puree
topped with melt in your mouth short ribs. The blend of meat and potato was
superb. When I visit this establishment, I will be sure to try the avocado
fries and chorizo and eggs for brunch.
Am-Thai Kitchen:
Also in Brooklyn, this inexpensive and casual
restaurant of Kensington served up two tasty Thai treats. The first was so
delicious but I cannot remember the name. It consisted of a large soft noodle
topped with vegetables and a delicious peanut-chili sauce. It might have
possibly been the Dumpling in Peanut Sauce that is on the menu for $5, but I
will have to go sample to be sure, woe is me. The second item was a crispy rice
crepe filled with coconut, tofu, lime leaves, and cilantro cucumber salad. The
crepes were quickly prepared right in front of us and made a wonderfully light
finger food.
Fatty Crab: Last
but not least was Fatty Crab. This Malaysian fusion restaurant has three
locations. The Upper West side, the WestVillage, and a third just opened in Williamsburg which is
called Fatty ‘Cue. Fatty Crab first got my attention in VIP where they were
serving chocolate Fatty Bars. With two types to choose from, dark chocolate
with chilies and roasted almonds was my favorite. On the main level, Fatty Crab
was serving up deviled eggs. These were not your typical Sunday luncheon
deviled eggs, but with a zingy Malaysian twist. This perfect two-bite treat
could make one wonder what else this restaurant has to offer.
Every year I have every intention of attending the Montauk
St. Patrick’s Day Parade. Yet somehow, the previous night’s activities eat up
those intentions and impede me from taking the 1 hour and 45 minute train ride
out east early on a Sunday morning. As I set my alarm Saturday night
(technically Sunday morning), it told me I only had 4 hours and 12 minutes to
sleep, I almost backed out again.
People have been traveling to the tip of the south fork for
48 years to participate in New York State’s 2nd largest St.
Patrick’s Day parade. The Montauk Friend’s of Erin Parade draws up to 45,000
people a year and has about 90 entrants, varying from fire departments, floats,
and performing acts. I quickly learned that my friend Jess lives for this day.
It has become bigger than Christmas for her and she takes this day to the next
level. Costume and all, Jess becomes Miss St. Patty herself.I also learned that rarely does one
survives a parade day with the lass, let alone return for a round two. I had a
mission because I was Jess’s ‘this-year-girl’.
We started the morning by smuggling a six-pack of tall boys
onto the train. There are 364 days a year that you can drink on the LIRR, but
this particular day happens to be excluded. There were cops all over the
platform, and I am not sure how Jess’s green hair didn’t make us a target for a
bag search. Nevertheless, we made it onto the train and started our St. Patty’s
day journey. We pre-gamed a bit with our stash and enjoyed the ride out east. After
being herded off the car and corralled like cattle out of the station, we made
our way to the first stop, The Old Harbour House.Here we were attired with green
beads and some sparkly green top hats by a friendly bartender. The bar was open and airy with Blue Moon
on tap, yum. With an outdoor patio and bar, it looks like a great place to
return to in the summer.
After a few beers and bathroom breaks, we realized the
parade was underway. We were near the end of the queue and we walked along the
route to make our way into town. The next thing I knew, we were in the parade. Jess’s brother and his girlfriend
hitched a ride on the wide chrome bumper of a fire truck. I walked arm-in-arm
with Miss St. Patty herself as she did the Ms. America wave. The cameras
snapped and the crowd ate her up. We had just had our 15 minutes of fame in
Montauk. We quickly dipped out when we saw a row of porta-potties and moved
onto stop #2, appropriately named The Trail’s End.
The Trail’s End was a bit smaller and darker than the first
bar and had no Blue Moon. The bartender tried to pass off a rum and diet for a
vodka and diet to a friend, but made good on his mistake.The name of stop #3 was fuzzy by this
point and someone put a can of Coor’s light in my hand. Done. Food was soon in
order and Village Pizza was delicious. The service was quick and the pizza was
hot. The last stop was Memory Motel. This was more like a club and even had a $5
cover. It was dark and loud and there were at least two fights in our
short time there. When we emerged back out into the warm sunlight, most of the
crowd had cleared, leaving the sidewalks full of plastic cups and other litter.
Some drunks stumbled about the streets and it was clear it was time to head
back to the station. No fancy walk for us this time, just a somber cab ride
back to the mayhem of the 5:33 train. Oh yeah, you don’t want to miss the train
out. There is not another one out until 1 a.m. and I can only imagine how many
get stuck there, or rather, how many people Montauk gets stuck with.
Will I be Jess’s next year girl? Hell yeah! But next year,
look for Miss and Ms. St. Patty. I am ordering a green wig right now.
The last time we were together, I must admit, it wasn’t the
best of times. To help me refresh my own memory, it was a respectable brunch in
late January at La Carbonara on West 14th Street in Manhattan. For
an additional $12, I could indulge in as much of you as I could – for two hours
anyway.
And indulge I did, commencing before I even ordered my eggs
Benny. This might have been the first mistake in our relationship. But Mary,
you were just a starter and you got me primed for the playoff games at
Ainsworth around the block. Liquor before beer, have no fear? Yeah…, no.
After that scene, Mary dear, I swore I would stay away from you.
Not that it was entirely your fault, you see, but I don’t really think I was all
that into you anyway. And then I met your sister, Square Mary. Not only does
she reside much closer to me than you - at The Grey Horse Tavern in Bayport -
but there was no need for over indulgence either.
Now maybe I just wasn’t on a mission this time around, or
maybe I just wanted to savor her. She is much pricier than you, $11 for just
one crystal quilted Ball Jar full. Yeah, I definitely couldn’t afford to
overdue it this time.
So I am thinking, darling, you should take some pointers from
your sis. First off, the garnish. While the celery stalk makes quite the fine
stirrer, a pickled green bean is just so much tastier.The sweet brine clears the palate and
compliments the savory taste of spicy juice. Tabasco? Uh-uh, dash of cayenne is
all you really need. Horseradish and lemon? Most definitely. But will any old
vodka do? No way José. This is where you and your sister differ entirely.
Square Mary is made with a cucumber-infused vodka. Yum!
The Grey Horse Tavern uses Square One Cucumber vodka, Square
Mary’s namesake. Square One is organically produced in North Dakota from an
organic rye. It is infused with cucumber essence, which produces a subtle yet
clearly defined smooth-heated vodka. Paired with a perfectly blended tomato
mixture, it leaves you with a surprisingly refreshing twist. A twist I just did
not experience with you that day in January. Or ever before actually. I even
found myself craving Square Mary on Monday afternoon…
So Mary, I don’t think we can hang out anymore. I am sorry
to say, but I am leaving you for your zestier sister.
I love live music. I love turtles. I even love Candy Land.
At the Sage Café, you can find all of these things - as well as Blue Point
brews always on tap. A few nights a week, music flows between the walls of this cozy
bar/restaurant. Just behind the talents of the night, in a corner pond, live
some red-eared sliders. And in the piano bench resides a Candy Land game. So
when my Music Guru Pete told me to come down on a Saturday night to see a “phenomenal”
band, he didn’t have to twist my arm very hard.
Sage is located in Blue Point, Long Island along Montauk Highway. The
outside appearance is quaint, and the inside is quite cozy. A sign
above the performers says all you need to know: "Welcome toSage Café. A
Good Old Fashioned Place. Relax --- This is Not A Fast-Food
Place. It is NotHalf-Fast Either. It is Full Slow. So Sit
Back and Look Around… Enjoy Life and The People That are Here!!!"
Music Guru Pete, who has yet to steer me wrong in the realm
of local talent, has been telling me about Jesse Pagano and his various bands
for probably close to a year now. Jesse is a Patchogue native that has been
playing at local establishments for years, although he mainly plays in the city
now. (And on Long Island, there's only one 'city'.) There are many incarnations of his band Karmasutra, which plays home-grown
acoustic music with a reggae flavor. On this particular
night, we were listening to Jesse and the Sidewalk Vigilantes, who are his two brothers Craig and Noah. (The brothers are also part of
Karmasutra.) Jesse was the front man on vocals and lead guitar. His passionately
delivered lyrics accompanied his bluesy rock strummings. Craig backed up his
brother’s vocals and played rhythm guitar. Noah, also of Noah’s Ark, was on
bass arking out. The percussionist Chris Cauley, of Sayville, jammed out with
the djembe. Finally, Paul Micca who used to play at the Sage's Jazz nights, was
on the drums. So for five bucks towards the band, and 6.50 a Captain and
coke, I had an under 20 dollar Saturday night (I was driving and had to be
responsible if you are doing the math). Not bad.
The band was indeed pretty
phenomenal. Aside from the couple of strays from the guido bar across the
street, the crowd was lively and grooving to the beat. One of the ‘strays’ from
across the street was a shorter version of Mr. Clean, with the earring to
match. Mr. Clean would throw his arms out in front of himself and shake his
hips (not to the beat) every time a female looked his way. It did add an
element of comedy to the night, and hey, The Sage does ask
that you enjoy “… the people that are here."
So maybe I am just preparing for old age? Or maybe things in suburbia just get so bad during the winter stretch that I will try anything? But “Who knew Monday could be so fun?” is what my new bingo buddy Brian said to me at my first Avino’s Bingo night.
For those of you who are not familiar with the south shore of Long Island in the winter time, there is not much to do. Particularly in the little village of Bellport I tend to frequent. During the warm months, the locals restaurant-hop, boat-hop, beach-hop, and quite possibly even bunny-hop. And there is much hopping to be done. But it all comes to a stand still during this dreadful wintry time of year. With most of the village restaurants closed on Monday nights, it seems to be left to Avino’s Italian Table to satisfy the restless natives.
And that is where I spent my most recent Monday night. I was first enlightened of Avino’s bingo night by my dear friend and hair-colorist, Cristian. When he asked me to go, I honestly didn’t think I would make it back out of my house after the back-to-work shock I was experiencing. While Monday’s aren’t easy for anyone, Monday nights are not any easier. After receiving a few ‘where are you’ texts, I decided “Ehhh, why not self? If it was the summer you would be out!” So I threw on a sweater, grabbed 20 bucks for the 20 cards, and off to the village I went.
I was pleasantly surprised to see the parking lot packed. This would mean lots of company. But it also meant I had to park across the street; could be dangerous getting back across after a few hours of gaming. Nevertheless, I walked in to find a packed bar and a full restaurant. Seemingly, many groups had come down to first eat dinner and to secure a prime spot in the main dinning room.
I quickly located my lot of friends seated inside the dinning area, just outside of the bar. Just apps and drinks for us, but we still were able to sit in a cozy little corner of the main dinning room. Bonus! We were right next to the bingo caller and I had a bulls-eye view of the board. I ordered a Bacardi and Ginger - pint glass please - there were five games ahead of me, each with three chances to win.
So what were we all there playing for you wonder? Our hostess/bingo- caller/owner/proprietor displayed our choice of fine prizes on the mantel above just one of the three fireplaces that Avino’s has to offer. The prizes ranged from bottles of wine, such as a Kris pinot grigio, to gift baskets of movies, popcorn, and candy, to ‘Avino bucks’. There were even ‘point’ prizes (wink, wink) that ranged from 25 points to 260 points by the last game. I was ready for the fun to begin.
And it ensued. This was not your grandmother’s bingo. While it started of slow, like my sips of Bacardi, the game quickly picked up the pace. Subsequently, so did my drinking.
Before long, crayons were snapping as numbers were feverishly being colored in. Those out on the streets could hear our hoots and hollers. Ever so often a false bingo was called. The boos quickly turned to ahhs as we realized we still had another shot at a prize. A woman at my table continuously insulted the continuously winning table. “Your sister wears short-shorts!” she would yell every time they gave notice of being close to a win. When my colorist won the movie gift pack, his starburst became little missiles to be launched at that table we were quickly growing quite suspicious of.
In between games I nibbled on spicy hot wings from the six-dollar bar bite menu. They were a perfect degree of spicy. Enough to keep you sipping your drink, but not creating the need to dab your tongue with a paper napkin. I shared a delectable plate of Gnocchi Bolognese with another friend I enticed down to take part in the entertainment. The chocolate chip cookie pie and tartufo from the dessert menu were delicious as well.
As the last prize was given away, I realized that bingo is not just for grannies. Nor is it just a clever attempt for teachers to try to make learning fun in school. For some, it might just be about putting a few bucks in one’s pocket. But I think bingo is more about an evening guaranteed to be filled with laughs. An evening of much needed fun for the social scene of a small village stuck under the winter gray.
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