As a result, if you find yourself as the caboose of a walking caravan with Debbie Decker and her oldest, you will either walk V-E-R-Y fast or else get left in their dust.
Giddy-up!
After hopping two different subway trains, and twisting and turning our way through about fourteen NYC blocks, we finally reached our restaurant. The "Chat and Chew." By this hour on a Friday night, every single restaurant in New York is packed to the gills. The C&C, however, had one or two empty tables in the very back. To get there you had to snake sideways down this long, narrow corridor filled will dinner patrons, past the kitchen, down some stairs, and into an area that would have comfortably accommodated two tables. It, unfortunately for us fat boys, contained four tables. That meant you had to either suck in the gut, or stand up and eat. Did anyone down here in Georgia hear that sucking-in-of-the-gut sound on a recent Friday night about 8:00 PM? If so, that was me taking my seat at the C&C.
The Chat and Chew specialized in Southern Cuisine. We had fried chicken with veggies, and a cheese steak sandwich (which is NOT southern at all) with all the sides they could pile on the plate. Our server noticed our southern accents, and told us that he, too, was from the South. He had moved to NYC eight years prior from Lawrenceville, Georgia. He had spent those eight years waiting tables and trying to "make it" as a comedian. As he talked, I couldn't help but think of what Daddy used to say - "Son, if the roach ain't wiggling anymore, you should probably stop stomping it."
If our fellow Georgian's performance as a server was any indication of his performance as an entertainer, he should probably NOT plan to quit his day job anytime soon.
NYC has every kind of restaurant known to man. While we were there we ate Gyros from Tom's Restaurant (with the famous "Restaurant" sign from the hit TV comedy, Seinfeld), THE best Chinese - Sesame Chicken I have ever eaten (complete with chop sticks), NY Style Pizza, Central Park Hot Dogs and Belgian Chocolate, Fruit Cups and Croissants from Cafe Lalo (where they filmed, "You've Got Mail), NY Style Cheesecake from the world famous "Juniors" Restaurant near Times Square, and, last but not least, while we were freezing to death on Liberty Island visiting the Statue of Liberty, Debbie and I absolutely devoured one of THE best Banana Nut Bread muffins this Cracker has ever sunk a molar into.
And, of course, at every turn there was coffee. There is a Starbuck's on every other corner of NYC. And, on the corners where Starbuck's isn't, you can be sure that a "mom and pop" coffee shop is. No one told me this, but I concluded that New Yorker's must L-I-V-E on coffee. When a New Yorker dies and their body is taken to the embalmers, before they can lay him/her out for the mourners to come in and wail over the corpse, they have to first drain the three obligatory gallons of coffee from his/her veins.
One other entree common to New York, and absolutely beloved by this old, overweight Georgia boy, are bagels. Bagels are heaven's food. There is just something about a piece of bread that is hot, soft, and so chewy your jaw muscles have to do a P90X workout just to get it ready to swallow. Never mind that bagels are little more than a pure carb fix. They are delicious. I am convinced that the "manna" the children of Israel were fed by the Lord were the first bagels. After all, the manna gave them strength, nutrition, and kept them alive as they wandered for forty years. That's good enough for me. "Manna" MUST be Hebrew for B-A-G-E-L.
Every time Sarah and Debbie ordered cheesecake, which is, frankly, as disgusting a dessert as a human can consume, this old redneck ordered a bagel. I figured it this way. If Sarah was gonna walk our legs off getting to these cramped, little, culinary holes-in-the-wall, while we were there I was gonna' tank up on carbs for the trek back.
If you go to NY, and you like bread even a little bit, fill up on the bagels. You will leave a very happy and contented person.
One other suggestion about the NYC eating experience. It is NOT a relaxed, take-your-time, sit-back-and-chill proposition. Once you have consumed your last bite, the servers will jerk your plate from in front of you, wipe the table where the plate was, ask if you want anything else, and then hurriedly bring you the check. If you do not offer payment right away, they will come back by your table and rattle the condiment containers, pick up the check folder to see if you have pulled out your credit card yet, or, or pick up the check and any money you might have laid on the table and head to the register with it.
One guy did this to me, and discovered what he had picked up was a dirty napkin, the check, and his tip (which was only about 15-20% of the full amount owed). When he sheepishly came back to the booth, I jokingly told him that if management wanted to accept my 15% offer for the food we had eaten, that would be very fine with me. He not only did NOT laugh, he didn't even crack a smile. Evidently, Yankees don't seem to have much of a sense of humor when you're making jokes about their money.
Once we had finished our "Chat and Chew" experience, we got up from the table like three fattening hogs waddling to their deaths. The walk back to the subway seemed much longer than before. The NY wind had picked up, and the crowded sidewalks seemed to have gotten even more crowded than they had been earlier. The subway also seemed more crowded, and its patrons a little more seedy than before. And, if all of this weren't enough, the elevator in Sarah's building seemed to G-R-O-A-N as it lifted the three Tubby-Deckers to their final destination for the evening.
What followed was a long night of listening to a thousand sounds. Sounds like, sirens in the streets, Debbie snoring like a longshoreman, and our tummies laboring to digest the massive, late-night, overload we had consumed at the Chat and Chew.
With a Saturday full of more "fun" lying in front of us, at some point during the night, the blessed respite of sleep - THE great escape from all that is New York - finally came.
When you go to NYC, plan to revel in both the cuisine and the dining atmosphere - they are each monumentally unique. But, also go at about ten pounds lighter than you plan to return. You are going to do a ton of walking, yes. But, the tonnage you will have packed on your hips will certainly stay with you for the plane ride home.
Bon Apetit!!!
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