If I've ever joked about how I pretty much just "eat professionally", I'm kind of closing in on the reality of it, especially considering the amount of iPhone pictures I consulted as research for this one. Presenting: New York's Craziest, Most Bizarre Dishes for Refinery29, which also happens to read as a map of the seventeen ways to directly reach my heart, both figuratively and medically, in terms of artery clogging.
I'm not into spending money or calories on anything that doesn't make you clap like a birthday kid at Disney when it arrives on the table, which is why these restaurant offerings are a collection of things that blow me away. We're talking deli ramen filled with plops of pastrami, a banana split pea soup (!) that looks like dessert and tastes like appetizer heavens, and even a gussied-up version of Tater Tot Hot Dish, the most gloriously Midwestern dish of all time. But then, on a personal front, there are the sea urchin wraps at Takashi that I down each Valentine's Day, the Katz's Pastrami Egg Rolls I dragged my entire family to eat (despite a two-hour wait), and the roasted chicken at The NoMad that I'd easily form a holy, permanent union with before any human man. This wee slideshow is kind of like my own personal version of Ancestry.com, only with a little less kreplach than that would necessitate.
And, while someone's probably sitting here going, "yeah, but what's so bizarro about snooshi?", hold yer horse mackerels! That picture of a fresh fish dinner was actually intended to be a photo collage of all the weirdest, wildest eats I hunted down mouth-first, but there's nothing more unsightly than a raggedy girl losing her shit in the back corner of a cafe over Photoshop not allowing pixel adjustment. So, there's now just a huge picture of sushi. But, what's not pictured is that when you order a similar platter of omakase goodness at Blue Ribbon, they take back the bones from the fish and deep fry them for you to eat.
You will never have so much fun near-bleeding out of one of your orifices, unless you're on the rag and suddenly a parachute drop of chocolates and old Hugh Grant movies lands from your bedroom ceiling. Which, hey, can we invent that? I've always been enamored by bank drive-through air tubes and baffled as to why they don't exist in every building, so this could be a perfect way to match my curiosity with my one true love: eating food when you're not actually hungry.
And, on that note, I leave it to you to do the same.