I use to take a picture of 97 percent of everything I ate.
Really. People would flip through the photos on my phone and it was plate, after bowl, after something in my left hand*.
Then the rest of the world caught on. Restaurants started to complain. Dinning companions began to poke at it**. It became unimportant and only if it was really warranted.
Now, I live a simple suburb life and work strange hours (sports are awesome!). I don’t eat out fabulously as often as I use to. B and I have our nearby favorite breakfast place, sports bar (the wings!!), a few Mexican options, a take-out Chinese preference and a ranking of the sushi places based on quality, distance and price.
Date nights lead to good things, generally photographed, but not shared. I’m hoping to change that here. I want to show off what I do in the kitchen, but I’ll be honest, that’s rare, and we eat out way too much.
As proof, this weekend, we escaped northern/central Connecticut for New York City with my group of friends from college. At the end of July, it’ll be six years since we all met (and instantly got on a plane for Australia — thanks Northeastern!), but due to different graduation schedules (thanks, Northeastern!) hadn’t all been together, as a whole group, in two years.
Somehow, out of five meals, only one was photographed (and also ‘grammed’).
After seeing the Marvelous Sugar Baby at the condemned Domino Sugar factory, we drooled to dehydration at Smorgasburg, which was fixed by fresh squeezed Vermont maple lemonade. Then there were Japanese tacos from Takumi Taco – short rib and lobster that hit the spot, as did so, so much more among the group.
Photographic evidence or not, trust my word that much more was consumed — Asian tapas at Pig and Khao, welcome night drinks in The Stag’s Head beer garden, a New York bagel breakfast at Ess-a-bagel, rooftop drinks (see wayyy above) at the Empire hotel and a fabulous dinner at Jacob’s Pickles.
Safe to say, no one left the city hungry.
(*My Instagram says I’m an eating blogger — maybe that’s what I’m doing here?)
(**And my mom started doing it.)
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