I meant to post this last week, but I went on vacation to Florida and tried to spend the least amount of time on my computer and as much time as possible in the sun. I tried so hard! I sat in the sun all of 1 day and a few hours of another. Lame. One of my coworkers said I “look like I got…something,” so I’m going to hope he meant a tan, and not a disease. From a man who wears capri pants, you never know.
Thursday was my friend Alex’s birthday so we decided to be cool New Yorkers and go to a new swanky place for drinks slash possibly food. We decided to check out The Breslin, the newest restaurant to open under the ownership of The Spotted Pig duo Ken Friedman and April Bloomfield. You know how I swoon for everything at The Spotted Pig (check out my post on it), so when I perused the menu at The Breslin, my mouth watered like Pavlov’s dog. Head cheese (otherwise known as brain), Pork scratchings (pork skins) – you don’t scare me. We ordered the Scotch Egg which essentially was a glorified Egg McMuffin (quoted from my friend Paige). It consisted of a soft boiled egg wrapped in sausage and fried. It was fantastical. Of course as soon as I cut into if, I proceeded to spill egg yoke on my pants because I am a gigantic slob that stains all that I come across. My napkin looked like a small toddler barfed on it. No yoke. (get it? joke?) My mess combined with my $5 Porkslap canned beer made me the classiest gal in the joint. Date me.
Look how happy the little piggies are! They look like little pig sumo wrestlers. I tried this belly slapping move once:
It did not turn out well, as I was not dressed appropriately in a sumo get-up, but instead, my 50 cent costume. I miss college.
For dinner I ordered the Lamb Burger which was the best freakin’ burger I have ever had. And let me tell you, I’ve been around the burger block. It was served on a crispy toasted bun with a delicious slab of goat cheese and a few pieces of raw onion. Onion – so clutch. It was served with amazing thick cut french fries (thrice cooked chips as they call them) and served with cumin mayo. Yumskies!
You want to know the funniest part of the night? (no, not my face – I hate those jokes) The girl whose birthday we were celebrating NEVER CAME. Instead of being upset, because c’mon, you could never be upset with Alex, (she’s Alex!), so we just pretended she was there the whole night. Cheersing (is this a word?) her, taking pictures with our arms around her, telling her how much fun we were having. It was like a running joke. So great. Turns out she didn’t know where we were because her phone had no service. Oh Hill Country basement and your no service. Such a shame. We’ll just have to go back!
On a side note, re-reading this post is torture for a Jew celebrating Passover. I already miss you, Yeast. I am wearing your picture on a locket around my neck.