New York, New York.
My first encounter with you, roughly three years ago, was not so swell. We drove from a quiet city town of marine time, all the way down south to find your charm. I planned, and planned, and planned, trying to maximize the time I could have with you. And yet, I failed to impress you. I panicked. I was a narrow-minded girl with unbelievably low self consciousness. In all, I wasn’t ready for you.
Thinking about that first trip in NYC makes me feel so grateful about this opportunity to meet you again.
I went on a restless tour at MET, attempting to take in everything I’d seen in front of me. If I’d lived here, I would volunteer to guide tours here so I can get closer to everything around, familiar or unfamiliar.
Chicago the musical. Whenever someone asked me “what did you do in NYC,” I would answer “we went to see Chicago.” And some of them would be like “WHAAAAT why did you go to Chicago???” The joke is getting so old, it’s not even funny anymore.
NYC on foot might still be the best way to explore this amazing place. It’s a shame that I didn’t take many pictures (since I was busy seeing and experiencing as much as I could).
Here are a few bearable shots.
One thing I’m missing in Vancouver is a decent food market with choices. This time at NYC we encountered Chelsea Market, which seemed to be an endless food haul with a wide range of food. Another smaller market right under a Workspace office lured us in, too.
That was not the first time someone questioned my enthusiasm for fusion food. Maybe I look too keen for fusion, and they always have their right to object. Most of the time, fusion can’t be truly authentic; people might not naturally combine two distinguishably varied flavours and claim the taste is “normal”. Fusion cuisine is always an exploration for the mind and taste buds.
It’s my guess, but maybe people open fusion restaurants are not doing it just to be cool/unique – they are trying to tell a story. The dishes we make are not just food, there are reasons behind them. In high school, I cooked dumplings with cheese, and my best friends cannot even imagine that would exist in the world. (I still think they are delish.) Comparably, I make jasmine rice with a tiny bit of saffron in the cooker, I drink earl grey with iced cube of red wine cooling it down. They might seem strange, but we do these for a reason (or just because the ingredients are easier to find). Without doubt, cooking cultures cross paths now and then. Further from that point, if we perceive fusion as a personal journey, then our dining experience would feel much more like reading someone’s diary.
This whole journey of fusion craving was definitely blooming since Japonesa in Seattle.
You know you are on the right direction to downtown when you see NYU.
Allbirds was kind of disappointing.
There was a long queue in front of this pizza place, although i didn’t get the name, I could probably use this photo for future reference.
And here it comes to the chillest brunch place I’ve been in life so far. Mexican brunch at Rosie’s in East Village.
We closed out eating journey in Manhattan with DoughBoy. For slice size please refer to the comparison on this photo.
It goes without saying that 3 days can never be enough for such a massive, messy city full of gem.
“You should live here for a few months before saying anything about it.”