bad
As some of you know, I started a new job at a new company. We went as a group to Hog Pit. As I walked through the rain, I saw on their sign that they had nachos for the day at the low price of $5.95. Since I have been talking about my nacho-obsession, I had no choice but to order them.
After all of the hubbub surrounding El Cantinero in the past week between the Village Voice’s Robert Sietsema saying that El Cantinero was the last bastion of hope for TexMex and Grub Street’s Daniel Laurer thinking it’s terrible, I figured you might want my opinion on the matter.
Last week in NYC was a summer treat. 70 degree weather, not a cloud in the sky, and nachos. Beautiful, eh? Well, almost. The warm weather drew us to Central Park along with hundreds of others.
Last Thursday New York’s only true football team, the Buffalo Bills took on the Jets north of the border. To celebrate, some Molsons and Buffalo wings, right? Well, sort of. More like buckets of Michelob Ultra and Buffalo Chicken Nachos. So we have ventured to the Upper East Side yet again for mid-week ‘cho action.
Instead of Taco Tuesday in the East Village, we had to settle for Peach Salsa from Trader Joe’s coupled with our favorite corn chip from Food Should Tasted Good. Let’s just say, I was unimpressed.
Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts. Screw it. Pacifico, I am disappointed in you. Lee fasted all day for Yom Kippur and you let his tummy down.
I have turned into quite the negative nacho Nancy lately, but come on. Good nachos make me very happy, bad nachos make me super sad. 7A had bad nachos, therefore, estoy triste.
On a brisk Wednesday, I made plans to eat dinner with my friend, Jen, in Dumbo. She mentioned her disinterest in Mexican food, but I convinced her that Pedro’s, a place with a bright/crazy mural on the wall, would also have delightful food. Boy, was I in store for a night of memories.
On Wednesday, the United States men’s soccer team traveled to Mexico in search of their first win in Mexico City vs the Mexican national team. Looking for cable television and good food, Julia and I went to the Cobble Hill area of Brooklyn to grab nachos from the Original California Taqueria and throw a few back at Floyd.
After a night of hard-working sweat-dripping wiffle ball with the crew from Heeb Magazine, Saucony sent us all to Blondie’s Sports for a healthy, post sport meal. When we sat down, we ordered the finest of beers, Stella (check my infamous comment on EffedinParkSlope about Stella).
