The Big Apple. With Oysters and a Side of Pastrami.

So many restaurants. So little time.

So many restaurants. So little time.

As some of you may know, I recently visited New York City with my favorite traveling companion Dirk. It was a week of fun and food. A lot of food.

We were in the city for a short week and our list of ‘must eats’ was longer than feasible. Although we knew we wouldn’t be able to appease all our gastronomical desires we gave it our best shot. We made sure to document every food stop, day by day. Even I am a bit shocked by the final number. From Monday through Saturday, we ate at 35 spots.

Yes, it’s not a typo. 35. And 24 of those noshes were consumed the first 72 hours. I’m not proud. Okay, maybe just a little bit. I’m weird like that.

Thank the angels we walked extensively, day and night. We were staying in the Village, but we managed to see most of Manhattan. From the Upper West and East Sides, through Midtown, the Financial District, onto the Lower East Side, Tribeca, Chelsea, Soho and back, we fueled up along the way. With the exception of a few cab rides, most of our travels were met simply by putting one foot in front of the other.

Why so happy? Time to eat again!

Why so happy? Time to eat again!

We had a long list of places to visit (MoMa, Empire State Building, Wall Street, Statue of Liberty); but the majority of our days were spent people watching and eating, two of my favorite past times.

My husband even had his iPhone GPS tagged with all our favorite eateries. I know, we’re total food geeks. If there is food involved, we don’t muck about. I’ve said it before. Life is too short to eat crappy food. And if one is on vacation, it’s criminal. Really.

Bear in mind Dirk and I were very smart with our portions (for the most part). We shared everything, so we were able to maximize the variety of foods sampled without feeling like Oompa Loompas at the end of the week, although after 3 days and 24 meals, I will admit I began to feel the waistline of my pants straining. I began to ignore that very last top button of my jeans altogether.

We ate in a Michelin Star rated restaurant (3 stars to be exact), and we ate in dives. We ate it all, from head to tail. Raw, seared, charred, fried. A few dishes fell flat, but more often than not, the food didn’t fly.

It soared.

Well said.

Well said.

Suffice to say, this culinary trip deserves a few blog posts. Over the next couple of weeks I will share some of our favorite meals and restaurant experiences with you, including our mission to find the perfect pastrami sandwich, sublime sushi, pristine oysters and more. Who prevailed over all? West Coast or East Coast?

Some of our findings might surprise you. I know they surprised me.

Tomorrow I will post the ‘Six Days of Food’ list and the first of many highlight meals. My only regret was not having two weeks to spend in the city that never sleeps. Now I know why it’s NYC’s tag line. Food. Trumps. Sleep.


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