Hey haters out there, look where we went. All the way to the Upper East Side, baby. If you start on the Bronx, we’re getting there. We even have a review from Queens coming and Lee’s planning his nacho crawl in Philly. Look out world we will mount and conquer thee.
Rainy, cold-for-October Saturday afternoons don’t usually scream “margarita,” (they usually call for a favorite of Rachel’s, a Hot Toddy) but as I sat down at Lime Jungle I oddly wanted nothing more than a frozen tequila delight.
Just before their state-crossing tour, we got a chance to sit down with Brooklyn-based band, Afuche. With their show taking place at Public Assembly and us rarely excited to trek to Williamsburg, we decided on Yola’s Cafe, which I’d heard good things about.
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 what would be two days before they shuttered their doors, we had an opportunity to get nachos at the lovely Bonita. When we walked in, the waitress stared confused at my I Nachos NY shirt and recognized our journey with a giggle. We sat down and I noticed caipirhinas on the menu, but no nachos. I did my research, so I had read about them before.
On a sunny Sunday, I found myself wandering alone into Prospect Park. Deep in wander-mode, I thought Anh Tuan might be playing in the park and I called him. Given a direction, I sped to bottom of the park to find a lackadaisical game of bounce a ball happening. I am an old fan of the game and jumped in.
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).
After a strange tweetup, I won’t name any names (cancelled tv show), I took Julia, a new to NY nacho lover and soon to be Nacho correspondent of some kind, to Blind Pig on suggestion from a friend.
We arrived and were given a seat on lovely 14th st, so we could watch drunk kids walk by after a free pizza at the Crocodile Lounge. We ordered the nachos and no drinks, the waitress, was unimpressed, still NACHOS: