"I've never gotten past the first thing ..."
"What?"
"The post thing. We went when my parents were here and then turned around."
"Uhhh ... wack. We're definitely going. And we're going to Grimaldi's first."
"And then ice cream?"
When her eyes light up like that, it's hard to say no. Especially when she's improving on a good idea. So with my oh-so-fun Furlough Fridays, we met up around 4:30 and hopped the train to DUMBO.
We quickly found out 5 p.m. is an awesome time to go to Grimaldi's, because we waited about 20 minutes (they were trying to sort all the vacated tables into 2-tops) and by the time we left, the line extended so long it almost reached the Fulton Ferry landing. Inside I ordered a Peroni, because a) I like beer and b) it's Italian, and we agreed on a mushroom and ricotta pizza. Because I was feeling ambitious, it was a large. The lady is small. She gamely ate three slices, which means I ate five, managing to impress not only due to volume but also by wisely eating the slices in size order (large to small), which made it waaay less intimidating to wolf down the final one.
After dinner, we chilled on the Ferry landing for a bit before setting off across the bridge. Moseying across while doing our best to avoid bikers and also the throngs of photo-taking tourists, we soon exited onto Chambers St. I mentioned my high school was down the block, and she mentioned never having actually seen it. So we hiked crosstown, randomly running into a co-worker of mine who lives outside the city, and took a quick peek inside after I hit her with urban legends (track team practice, pre-bridge: running back and forth across the West Side Highway before the light changed) and fun facts (the bridge staircase railing being named "The Holy Rail" for skaters).
Ambling from there into the West Village, we hit up cones for some delicious gelato. I can't remember the fruit, but it was a marscapone combo. Playing tourists, we laughed at the smutty pulp-novel-cover postcards and gave a dollar to a barbershop quartet after listening to a song. (Support your local artists!) Walking off the gelato as we headed up to Milk Bar, we focused on our mission of ordering crack pie, which we hadn't previously because the cookies are so damn good. That accomplished, we headed back round my way, struggling the final few blocks because seven miles was soooo far. And it was 9 o'clock and I'm old (almost 26!)
Our food tour was not finished, however. See we woke up, ate the crack pie (fiending for more) and then went to Clinton St. Bakery for the city's best pancakes. Thank fuck for high metabolism. And girlfriends who eat.
Your LARGE pizza only had eight slices? At the pizza place where I work, the SMALL has eight slices!
ReplyDeleteWow... that is an impressive amount of eating. Found your blog on 20something. If you're bored head over to mine, every blog title is a song, so that can pass some time! haha
ReplyDeleteCan't wait to read more!