People are always asking me for restaurant recommendations in New York City, which is really embarrassing for me. I don’t know the next coolest spot, I haven’t tried all the fancy standards. Normally if I go out to eat, I’m looking for something that maximizes the cheap to tasty ratio, and I don’t have time for the tomfoolery of haute cuisine. (But I wish I had the disposable income to partake in both!)
Last night, however, I was lucky enough to go to WD-50, Wiley Dufresne’s molecular gastronomic restaurant on the Lower East Side (which, truth be told, is not new in the slightest), with a friend. And we went whole-hog, getting the tasting menu—all 11 courses and then petit fours. We happily analyzed every bite, picking apart the components before assembling them on our forks. Some courses blew us away, others left us feeling “meh.” And I managed to snag a photo of every course.
I’m one of those people who gets sick after a stressful event. In college, I got sick on every visit home; for a while in Philly I was getting sick each weekend. I moved to New York, and the constant stress was such that I didn’t actually catch a cold until the week after I stopped working at my job. So after these past few weeks, in which I had a lot of fun but did a LOT, I’m now sick! And home on a Friday night, so I’m talking to you guys for the first time in ages.
I have never wished for my camera more than I did tonight, at Shakespeare in the Park‘s production of Hamlet. Not because Lauren Ambrose’s carrot-red hair was cascading down half her back in luscious curls. Not because of Andre Braugher, who I’ve known since his days on Homicide (and the general lust my old roommate had for him). Not Sam Waterson rockin’ Polonius’s bumbling pomposity. Or B’s mom, playing Hamlet’s mom. No, it was because of the storm.