Tag Archives: michelada

What has my slacker self been doing?

Hi friends,

This flu really knocked me for a loop – and I haven’t felt at all creative about writing. There are MANY unfinished posts hanging out in the Drafts section waiting to be ready. But rather than bore you with something potentially silly or rush the process, I have stayed rather quiet. Hope you understand.

Here’s what I’ve been doing recently.

Reading this book in preparation for seeing the much-lauded Hamilton on Broadway with Ms. Moxie. Before you get too excited, we’re going in NOVEMBER. Waiting is hard. Particularly given that my friends are always posting about it.

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Suddenly we were on the bridge to Brooklyn

First read this related post.

Suddenly we were on the bridge to Brooklyn. The Manhattan Bridge this time, not the Williamsburg. I laughed.

“Don’t laugh. This isn’t funny!” Mom said.

I kept laughing. What else are you supposed to do when a Chinese New Year parade and dozens of NYC traffic cops thwart your Little Italy lunch plans and Canal Street spits you onto the bridge to downtown Brooklyn without any choice?

Just thirty minutes earlier, everything was fine. Great really. Mom came in from Scranton for a post-birthday (hers, not mine) visit. I had a present waiting for her at my apartment in Williamsburg. We planned to drive there after shopping and lunch at Pellegrino’s.

We shopped at Lord & Taylor. I found a dress that might be fun for my friend Candace‘s wedding in Jamaica. We got Mom’s car out of the lot ($26 for two hours, and that’s the Weekend Special) and headed downtown.

And sat in spectacular traffic once we passed Bleecker Street.

“I’m never doing this again,” Mom said about driving downtown, and agreeing to drive to Brooklyn for her birthday gift. But she has said that many times during my life about things she has absolutely done again so I laughed some more.


Each summer, my parents and I would drive eight-ish hours south to Nags Head, NC. Once, when I was a seven or eight years old, we arrived the Cabana East Motel only to find that our reservation was actually for the next day. No rooms were available.

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Dad, not the adaptable sort, was furious at Mom who, although she might have gotten a date wrong, also did all of the heavy lifting for planning our vacations with no offers of help from Dad. Even though we were able to get a room for the night at the Beacon next door, I don’t think my parents exchanged a civil word for 24-48 hours.

I wished we could all just be happy about the extra day at the beach.


When we found ourselves on the Manhattan Bridge, I turned to Mom (who was getting progressively more hangry thanks to my laughter) and said “why don’t we eat in Williamsburg? You can eat food you don’t eat around Dad.”*

I felt tense during the drive up the BQE but tried to hide it with chatter. We parked near the restaurant and then walked down the middle of the street to avoid the ice-covered sidewalks. The ice was another strike against Brooklyn in my mother’s eyes.

Miraculously, she stepped across the restaurant threshold and expressed her approval.

Mom and Jen

We went to Mesa Coyoacan for Mexican food. Tamarind margarita for her, michelada for me. We gorged on tortilla soup and esquites and guacamole and tacos. When we were done with that, I surprised her with churros con chocolate y caramel with a birthday candle. She no longer seemed mad at me for laughing.


Guess what? Mom loved my black nail polish. She proclaimed my hair too “gold.” I’m keeping it though.

 

*Between his health concerns and narrow idea of what constitutes Good Food. (In my dad’s opinion, every cuisine that isn’t American or Italian might serve him cat for an entrée. Don’t ask. I have given up.)

Welcome back, Fatty Cue

Once I zeroed in on Williamsburg during my apartment search, I used Fatty Cue as a spot to regroup and refuel.

I loved this beef brisket sandwich.

Fatty Cue

And this cocktail, the Malay michelada.

Fatty Cue

I was bummed when the restaurant suddenly closed, and stay closed for a long time.

But Fatty Cue is back. Yay!

Here’s a preview of the reopened spot by Maryse Chevriere on Serious Eats.

Related posts:

I went to Los Angeles (again)

The trip looked a lot like my January visit in some ways, albeit with the addition of Das Boot.

I shared the best salad ever with a new client at Magnolia on Sunset: haricot verts, figs, gorgonzola. We sat outside where the people watching is best described as hilarious.

I stayed at the Andaz on Sunset, which I adore. Last time, I faced the Strip. This time, the Hollywood Hills.

Brunch at Traif

Remember my dinner at Traif in Brooklyn? I followed it up with brunch there Sunday.

No surprise: it was fantastic.

When micheladas are on the menu, I can’t say no

We ate sitting in the solarium. It has a lovely view of the garden.

I regret not getting a pic of the chilaquiles. They were amazing. So was the strawberry pancake.

I tried to contain my enthusiasm given that a gluten-free friend was at the table

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Miscellany – Austin, food, more food

Many months after moving into Williamsburg, I *finally* made it to Fette Sau. LOVED it.

My neighbor friend, her daughter and I went on a whim, ordering barbecued meat by the pound and beer served in mason jars (well, the two adults had beer; the three-year old stuck with water). As twilight fell, we ate at a shared picnic bench and chatted with the young couple next to us.

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If you like to talk about food (ingredients, restaurants, anything), check out donrockwell.com. It began as a DC-centric food discussion site, but has expanded with time.

I made some great friends through the site, and I still post – just usually about NYC spots now.

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I love Joanna Goddard’s post about her family’s trip to Austin. Can’t wait to get back there in a few weeks.

Michelada at Hotel San Jose