the city that never sleeps is always eating, pt. 3

Tuesday night, we had a revelation. Why eat breakfast at P's uncles' in New Jersey when we could go straight into the city for this most important of meals, thereby fitting in one extra restaurant each day? If we were going to start having city breakfasts, we decided we might as well start big. And surly. We decided to start at Shopsin's.

Ever since P read a Calvin Trillin article on the cafe, it had become a must-eat attraction for our New York trip. Each time he talked about it, A became more and more terrified of the inevitable experience. You see, Shopsin's is not your ordinary, touchy-feely, mom's home cooking kind of cafe; there are rules at Shopsin's. No parties of five. No copying your neighbor's order. There was even a proscription against writing about Shopsin's (which we believe has *hopefully* been lifted). And, as rumor had it, those who broke the rules in Shopsin's original location could be banned for life. A did not want to be banned from any food establishment for life.

After a tumultuous upheaval from their original location, Shopsin's set down roots in a new location inside the Essex Street Market, a wonderful working market full of everyday grocers and a handful of slightly-more-gourmet vendors (we wish we could have seen more of it, but we were on a tight schedule). When we came in the door of the market, we nearly passed the restaurant, wedged as it is in a cramped corner behind an adorable cheesemonger. Essentially, the place is three two-tops hidden under high shelves of ingredients, with the rest of the tables spilling out into the entryway. From a chair in the center of the cluster, Kenny Shopsin presides over it all, like the foreman of a 19th century factory. When it was time to order, he merely turned and took our requests from where he sat, yelling them out to the cook.

Now, A had worked herself up into a tizzy over the prospect of ordering, because Shopsin's menu is arcane and genre-defying. There are a few hundred options and everything is made-to-order. So A planned ahead and had a print-out of the menu from their website, from which she picked a few choices. When the time approached, she didn't choke, but rather admirably ordered the "Diego," while P ordered some pancakes. What was the Diego? Oh, just a mammoth bowl of poutine with poached eggs - perfect fries, brown gravy and egg yolk. Pancakes sounds awfully dull for such a storied place, eh? Not when they are made of mac & cheese suspended in a fluffy, sweet batter and served with hot sauce and maple syrup. Based on our best estimate, there were about ten of them, and we ate 'em all (and neither of us like pancakes! [as you roll your eyes]). The salty tang of the cheddar cheese went really well with the sweetness of the pancake and we both agree that they were best with just the syrup. Nothing could have prepared us for Shopsin's - what we'd read about it sounded gimmicky and sure, the cook did tell some women next to us to "stop fucking saying thank you," but there are few restaurants we've been to that have been more comfortable. Maybe it was the tattooed couple sitting at the counter whose wedding photo was tacked to the back of the kitchen door, but in a strange way, we felt like we were part of a dysfunctional and charming family for the hour.

We headed uptown for a lunch before going to the natural history museum. When our plans fell through for Barney Greengrass ("The Stugeon King"), which was closed recovering from Passover, we thought we'd try Bouchon Bakery. Run by Thomas Keller, this lunchtime bakery is probably the closest we'll get to his French Laundry until we renew our vows in a few years and "register" for a meal there. We ordered at the counter and took our meal outside to eat in Central Park, along with the rest of New York. While people watching in the park, we unpacked our lunch and got to work. We'd heard that Bouchon's tuna salad sandwich, a twist on a salade nicoise, was something of a marvel. As a friend of ours makes what is arguably the best tuna sandwich in the world, we thought we'd be pretty good judges. How did Bouchon's sandwich stack up? It was pretty decent for what it was - a tuna sandwich - but it didn't approach our friend Molly's creation, which transcends tuna sandwich-dom (her mix is a secret, but we know there is a little salmon thrown in for extra richness).

So, we went to a famous chef's casual cafe and we ordered a tuna sandwich. Boorrrinnggg. Our other choices were perhaps a little more inspired. Even though the guy at the counter looked at us like we were crazy when we ordered it to go, we were sure we wanted to try the asparagus soup. Topped with citrus creme fraiche and hazlenuts, the bright green soup was the essence of spring and was a perfect complement to the beautiful weather. For dessert, we couldn't decide between the pistachio cherry brioche and the brown butter macaroon, so we got them both. They were each great, but the macaroon consisted of such pillowy and delightfully chewy cookies that the brioche was almost eclipsed.


From the moment we entered the American Museum of Natural History and saw the first dinosaur, A had to steady P to keep him from having a major stoke. (!) Oh, but there was much more than dinosaurs here - we also saw dinosaurs, animals, meteorites and dinosaurs. Look, people: there's nothing wrong with liking dinosaurs. Or wishing they were your friends so that you can talk to them.

To be perfectly honest (and serious), we were both enthralled and could have spent two days there, rather than the three hours we had allotted for the museum. There was so much to see that we practically had to run through the exhibits, though we did catch a few highlights:

1. One wing boasts a nice new exhibit design that charts evolution based on common bone structures of diverse species. Cool.

2. The underwater room was truly spectacular and the famous blue whale looked even larger in life.

3. Dinosaurs. We felt this point needed emphasis.

4. We saw a 200 ton meteorite. Fun fact!: It is so heavy that its support pylons extend all the way into the bedrock below the museum.

5. A found 3 manatees and this made her happy. One in the subway tiles, one skeleton and one underwater diorama.

6. In the "African peoples" exhibit, we noticed that one of the mannequins had jeans and sneakers. The odd clothing made it seem like a live person was beneath the costume. Unfortunately, this felt less like a scene out of a slapstick Peter Sellers film than like something from a horror movie. It only cemented our shared belief that museums (or all places of learning, for that matter) are creepy.


Before heading back to P's uncles' house for dinner, we took a stroll through Central Park, making sure to first grab an overpriced coconut popsicle in case we got lost. We didn't, but the popsicle still came in handy.

_________

Essex Street Market - 120 Essex Street (at Delancey Street); J,M,Z @ Essex; F,V @ Delancey
Bouchon Bakery - Time Warner Center, 10 Columbus Center, 3rd Floor;
American Museum of Natural History - 79th St. at Central Park West; B,C @ 81st; 1 @ Broadway & W. 79th