Astoria food enthusiasm

I moved to Astoria from good old Staten Island in February. I get behind Astoria, but more to the point of the blog, I get behind food in Astoria. Believe it or not, Astoria is not just about Baskin Robbins. I present to you be a (far from extensive list) of Astoria food I think is awesome.

Before we get to that, I’d like to try an experiment. Last night I was speaking to my friend Jordana who told me that use of the word “awesome” tells people what generation you are from. Apparently kids these days are using words like “popping” to express enthusiasm. It has something to do with lip gloss. So for this installment I will retire the dated word “awesome” and describe things as “popping.” I will try to do this as often as possible . It’s sort of the secret word. And what do you do when you hear the secret word boys and girls?

Astoria popping food:

1) thai restaurants

In Astoria we are ankle deep in poppin’ Thai restaurants. New ones pop up every day. I am literally swimming in pad thai and I could not be happier. Yajai is Ms. Myagi’s favorite and I like Thai pavillion. It makes sense that there would be so many Thai restaurants coexisting with so many Greek restaurants because of how close Greece and Thailand are geographically.**

2) JJ’s Sushi

I should stop writing this blog and go there right now. Just the letter’s “J’ and “J” cause me to have a Pavlovian response where I want to stop what I’m doing and eat lots and lots of sushi. They have this amazing…er….poppin’ sushi and literally everything on the menu is great. They have these amazing*** edamame dumplings as well. You should probably stop reading this and go.

3) the taco truck

The taco truck on 30th avenue and 33rd street is magical. They use actual mexican cheese and the rice and beans are delicious. The guacomole is not real, but they squeeze it out of a tube and for some reason I think that’s poppin. Supposedly the truck also delivers, but we’ve never tried this.

4) feta cheese

So you are probably going to ask me, Oh where oh where can you get yourself some feta cheese in Astoria? How about EVERYWHERE? There are so many wonderful Greek markets that I cannot even begin to name them all. Did you know that Bulgaria has a different kind of feta than Greece or France? Personally I think the French feta cheese is poppin.

5) Michael’s Restaurant

It’s a poppin diner. Everything is awesome, even non-diner foods.

** Clearly this is not true.

*****There are other words that kids today are saying but I am so unhip that I don’t know. Please leave comments with your favorite words.

Opera – Not Just for Crumblies Anymore

The median age of audience members at the Metropolitan Opera is 66 years old. I know this because I used to work there, and believe you me, on a good night at the opera it would be a challenge to shake a stick without hitting some serious facework.

There are many, many reasons for this: it’s an older form; the popular music of a pre-television (pre-vaudeville, actually) era, or the often esoteric work of contemporary classical composers that for better of for worse is not all that accessible to those of us used to melodic hooks and catchy lyrics. It’s an acquired taste. It’s long – often 3+ hours for a single show – and it should be, as it is also one of the more expensive forms of theater. The “best” box seats (with the best view of the audience, not the stage) go for $380. Orchestra seats are a mere $175-$275 a pop. For one show. So yeah, it’s understandable that younger opera enthusiasts are a rarity. I wouldn’t have gotten into it if I hadn’t been exposed to it so much when I was working there.

The Met’s admin offices are all tucked away inside the opera house, and the rehearsals and performances are all piped throughout the building via a series of Charlie’s Angels-esque speakers. So I’d gotten a taste for the music after a few weeks. But my real enthusiasm for this ridiculously over the top (and ridiculously pricey) art form came when I saw my first opera live.

To be honest: I don’t fully remember which one it was. Could’ve been Louisa Miller, a second-string Verdi work that wasn’t selling well (which means comps for the staff, yay!), or The Barber of Seville, with the Met’s old ginormous revolving set from the pre-Gelb era. Actually, now that I think of it, I think the first super-wow production I saw was Mazeppa, which was a new production that opened up to crappy reviews the first month that I worked there. It’s Tchaicovsky, so it was bangin’, but people thought the sets were campy and the concept overwrought. At least that’s what the reviews said. All I could think about it was big. Big and shiny. I like.

There’s the kicker. There is no amplification used in most opera (with the exception of opera houses with crap acoustics). Which means that if you’re sitting 5 storied up in the family circle nosebleed seats, watching the antlike figures on the stage, the music you are hearing is coming directly from their mouths with no help from science. It’s un-effin-believable. And when you relax and stop waiting for the plot to progress (which it will very slowly, or not at all) you can absorb the music going on in the pit. All those bits and pieces of orchestration coming together, the massive undertaking of a soprano filling a 4,000 seat theater with just the unaided sound of her voice, it’s mind-blowing. I always wonder in the scenes where the leads are singing directly at one another – do they need earplugs? Does the force of their companion’s massive vocal projection blow their hair back? It’s like an olympic event!

So yeah, that’s how I came to get behind opera. This amazement comes through patience and having an open mind and is totally worth it. AND since it is such a niche interest, you can have sublime dork-atiffic conversations with other opera enthusiasts and NO ONE else will know what you are talking about. I think that’s pretty damn cool. Those nosebleed seats cost $26 each, and they’ll loan you the binoculars for free. That’s where the real fans hang out.

Butterflies and dinosaurs

I get behind the Museum of Natural History. Stevey and I went there a few weeks ago and saw this amazing butterfly conservatory. Different species of butterflies were flying around and landing on backpacks, ears and other appendages. The exhibit is only running until May 26th so you need to go as soon as possible.

We saw other exhibits as well, but I would be lying to you if I told you I go to the museum for any other reason than to see the dinosaurs.

Before I get to discussing dinosaurs, please note: when you go to the museum of natural history its important that you realize that the admission price is a suggested donation. That’s not to say that I’m not for supporting the museum. The point is that anyone, regardless of income level can see a ginormous museum, and more importantly, two huge rooms full of dinosaur fossils. Dinosaurs are for everyone.**

There’s something awesome about dinosaurs that is almost beyond words. You’ll definitely feel that way as you walk around the two exhibit rooms. It will be important to go with a friend so you have someone to discuss what your favorite dinosaur is and why. For me its between a T-rex and the awesome stegosaurus. The fossil of the stegosaurus will make a convert out of you.***

If you can’t find anyone to go with you, and you’re desperate to have a dino-conversation pick someone at random in the museum to talk to. Note: avoid being creepy. You can also share random awesome dinosaur facts; for example scientist are pretty sure that velociraptors had feathers; or a megalodon could probably eat a T-rex. Note: random awesome dinosaur facts do not have to be limited to those learned at the museum.

As you make your way out of the exhibit, try to see some of the rest of the museum. This will invariably happen accidentally on your way to the dinosaurs and back toward the exit. The museum is huge so give yourself some time to get lost. Hopefully you’ll end up in the ocean exhibit to see the giant squid. You’re also guaranteed to see many large dioramas. Enjoy!

Recommended additional dino-activities:

• Go see the huge, animatronic t-rex at the times square toys r us, which is much more awesome than the links suggests.

• Re-Watch Jurassic Park’s 1 and 3. I know you love Jurassic park which was of course one of your favorite movies when you were little. Jurassic park 3 is amazingly bad and cheesy. (Or better yet read the books which are WAY better.)
• Or spend two minutes watching this:
**butterflies are only for people willing to pay $18.50

*** Leave comments about your favorite dinosaur!!!

More ice cream enthusiasm.

After all Stevey’s hype about B&R clearly its time for a short recap of 31 cent scoop day.

Stevey and I were a bit late getting there. The event (yes it was an event) ran from 5-10 and we arrived at the Steinway B&R at about 9:30pm.   The line was so long that the store had actually closed its doors and no one else was allowed in. Not even Stevey and Robin who talk to the owner reguarly (his name is Fred). This unfortunately forced us to the dreaded B&R/dunkin donuts down the street where things were just as insane. It was an ice cream mad house! It took Stevey several tries to put his order in because the noise level of all the people. It was like that scene in Willy Wonka when everyone buys all the chocolate to get 5 golden ticket. Except sort of a 31 cent ticket, wrapped in a cone… (I know I’m going too far there. Sorry.)

There was one other thing this event was filled with: enthusiasts! 31 cent ice cream causes people to love ice cream harder than they have ever loved it before.

Our freezer now contains reeses,* pistachio almond, cookies and cream, rock and pop, and york peppermint patty. For the uninformed rock and pop is a sherbet that is neon green, florescent purple and contains “popping candy.”**

Sadly there was no german chocolate cake for Stevey.

*we didn’t mean to get reese’s, but were victim’s of a clever ruse involving a Health bar crunch mix up. Still delicious.

**and possibly uranium.

Creatures That Like Me Best

Yay – first post for me, y’all.

I would like to take a few minutes today to write a little about something, or rather someone, very close to my heart. I began this thinking I would do a general blurb about my extreme love of dogs and how much I get behind dog ownership. And that honestly people who don’t like dogs are stupid and those who don’t allow their tenants to have dogs should be hit with sticks.

It’s my post, I don’t have to be fair or open minded about this.

But then I thought I’d better pay homage to the individual who inspired this primal affection in me: my special little guy.

Miyagi came into my life three and a half years ago when I was on my way to get a cat, to help with a horrific mouse and roach problem, from the ASPCA on 92nd and 1st in Manhattan.

We strolled past the cat pen in the shelter when we first arrived, but something was drawing us to the dog kennels. Something inexplicable. I would not have been able to tell you why at the time, but now I realize that the hand of fate was pulling me to him: a ridiculous 5 lb lump of chutzpah and joy. The tag on the cage read “MR MIYAGI.”

He was the most pathetic dog there, not accepting the treat offered by the kind volunteer that was showing us around. We decided that despite his age – he was 9 years old, they told us – he needed to come home with us. That same day we paid the adoption fee and signed an agreement that said we were taking him home with the full knowledge that he was anorexic and sickly and we couldn’t sue the shelter if he died. Didn’t matter. Look at him!

Three years later he and I have a closer bond than I’ve probably ever had with a person. He follows me around when I’m home, naps when I’m not. Curls up into a ball against my back when we’re sleeping. Is riDICulously cute in the meantime. But he’s still got an eating disorder andhe’s not friendly to most people. In fact, whenever I’m not around, I hear, he is downright mean and bitey to the point where no one can feed him or take him out. Yep, little dude’s got an attitude problem. But that’s why I’m so enthusiastic about him, and chihuahuas in general.

Think about it: we live in a city that forces us to acknowledge, and ignore, thousands of people every day. Some of these people have more money than we do, some have better jobs, bigger homes, nicer families and sweeter personalities. It’s hard not to feel swallowed up, not to feel your own sense of special individuality slipping away from you.

Then, you come home. Here is a creature that, of allllll the people in the world, thinks you are the best. So much so that no one else is worth his attention or his unbelievable cuteness. This somehow makes everything much, much better. Some days I think people would all be more friendly if they had their own Miyagis waiting for them at home.