Alaina’s Awesome Adventure…Featuring Weezer, a yappy dog, zitty teens, and a big ass hole in the ground
Its been almost a month since my last blog entry, and with good reason — I have been super busy — I was flitting about the West Coast for a few weeks, and recently I have been flitting all about New York City.
At any rate, I’m sad to report that summer is officially over, although apparently someone didn’t get the memo since its hot as you know what around here. So below I’m going to relive my final days of summer….
Beverly Hills (or rather West Hollywood)…That’s Where I Wanna Be…
Weezer was all about it, and I can see why. The last time I was in Los Angeles, we stayed slightly outside of the city in South Gate. I’m a New York City girl and I’m not used to driving at all, much less driving in traffic. The constant driving back and forth trying to see everything, and the driving from downtown to the West Side, to South Gate and back again kind of wore me down. I was pretty anti Los Angeles after that. But this time I stayed in West Hollywood, and did barely any driving (except when Juanny and I went to Santa Barbara — more details later)… I’m seeing L.A. in a totally different light. I’m busy concocting copious plans to move there.
'Tis the Season Pancakes from The Griddle
My visit consisted of the basics: eating enormous pancakes at the Griddle (7916 Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, CA), beaching in Santa Monica (I don’t care what people from L.A. say, I love the beach, and the sun came out for our visit), and hanging out at Barney’s Beanery (8447 Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood, CA), the Abbey (692 N. Robertson Blvd., West Hollywood, CA), and St. Nick’s Pub (8450 West 3rd Street, Lost Angeles, CA).
Gardens at Old Mission Santa Barbara. (c) Juan Valles, 2009.
Vineyards. (c) Juan Valles, 2009.
On my last day in town, Juanny and I drove up to Santa Barbara and we explored the Old Mission. There’s just something amazing about Old Santa Barbara. I love the Spanish architecture, and I adore how its nestled in the middle of the Santa Ynez Valley’s wine country. Juanny and I ended up the day by going to two wineries – the Gainey Winery (3950 E. Highway 246, Santa Ynez, CA), where I got a fantastic 2007 Riesling, and the Melville Winery in Lompoc, CA (5185 E. Highway 246, Lompoc, CA), where I got a special reserve Pinot Noir also bottled in 2007. We attempted to go to a third, but they had already closed for the day. Truly, its for the best. I am an extreme lightweight, and I would have been spitting my wine out anyway as I was driving home.
On the way home we stopped at what Juan calls the “most cloyingly cute town in the world”….Solvang, CA. Its an old Danish town that is now an awful tourist trap. I’d maybe feel better about it if it were a real working town instead of something that people just went to for touristy purposes. But because nobody actually lives there, I feel like it lacks authenticity.
Solvang Post Office. (c) Juan Valles, 2009.
To all of you Angelenos out there — Eunice, Eunice’s friend Dan, and Juanny and I had dinner at this amazing tapas style Italian place called Barbrix in Silver Lake (2442 Hyperion Avenue, Los Angeles, CA). I understand that driving to Silver Lake is somewhat like taking the L to Williamsburg, but hear me out — the tapas were truly amazing, and not very expensive ($ 4 – 13), and they had a terrific wine and beer selection (including several German craft beers and Baltic wines — I mean, wine from Croatia is not the first thing I think of when I think of a delicious bottle of red) I had the squash blossoms which were decent — they were stuffed with ricotta cheese, battered and deep fried. They could have used more flavor. The hamachi sashimi was also fantastic, as was the sliced strip steak covered with shaved parmesan and an arugula salad. I’m think Silver Lake is fabulous, and I would definitely go back over the whining of my West Side LA friends.
Airplane Etiquette and Other Such Matters…
After my long weekend in Los Angeles, I left on Tuesday. I left a little present consisting of a bottle of Stoli Raspberry and various snacks on Eunice’s countertop and headed to the airport for my short hop to Phoenix. Kelly was going to meet me at the airport and my father was coming in the following day. Of course, I underestimated both the line at Target, and the traffic on the 10, so I was running extremely late. I was unfortunately greeted by various asshats who proceeded to make my life as difficult as possible. I’ll just give you a few examples for your reading pleasure, before launching into a general overview of my awesome trip in America’s hottest oven…I mean, in Phoenix.
So I arrive at the airport, and I am, of course frantically running late after dropping my car off at the Alamo Rental Car lot in Inglewood (I have to say – despite the fact that the Biloxi Mississippi Airport is a barn, it is the best airport I have ever been to for this exact reason — the rental cars are in immediately in front of the airport, and there is zero line. The entire airport is in what appears to be a barn, but that is besides the point.) Thankfully the line is short for both the check-in and the bag drop, so I figure I’m home free. Au contraire, my friends, au contraire. Whenever I get to the airport there are always a million asshats who must not have a) been to an airport in the last 10 years, or b) read anything about air travel or watched the news since 9/11. Everyone knows that you have to take your shoes off, take your keys out of your pocket, no liquids, etc etc etc. Otherwise you are holding up the line and it is rude. Especially when there are those of us who fly by the seat of our pantalones here.
So this woman, whose face is mostly obscured by sunglasses despite the fact that we are inside and there are no windows, is holding what has to be the world’s most hideous dog (who is, by the way, not in a carrier) and a 1.5 liter bottle of Fiji water. When the security guard tells her that she can’t bring in her enormous bottle of water she has the audacity to act surprised. ”But I have a dawwwwwwggggg,” she says. At this point I am tapping my foot impatiently and my eyes are rolling around so much in my skull you’d think I was stroking. At the point that the woman proceeded to let her dog lap water out of her Fiji bottle I had had quite enough. I took my backpack, placed it on the belt in front of her, and went around. And then the unthinkable happened…. she removed my backpack and said, “Excuse me, I have a dawwwwwwg.” I, Alaina Morgan, was at a loss for words. You would have thought she had farted in my face.
Anyway, once I finally got through security, I thought my various dealings with idiots were done for the day. Unfortunately, my faith in humanity was too strong. I approached my seat on the plane, and unfortunately a zitty teenager had plopped herself down into it. Sign number one that the flight was going to go horribly wrong. After politely asking her to extract herself, I settled in and opened up the latest edition of Travel + Leisure Magazine. Somewhere in the middle of their feature article about the 100 best hotels in the world, we began to taxi down the runway, and that is when, to my horror, I heard someone’s cell phone ring. My horror turned to distaste, when I realized that the cell phone belonged to one of the zitty teenagers sitting next to me, who then proceeded to attempt to answer the phone. Now, I understand that the danger to the passengers in a plane caused by an errant cell phone is minimal, but it was really the blatant disregard for the rules that ticked me off more than anything. At any rate, as one of the zitty teenagers tried to place a phone call while we were taking off I yelled at them and told them to put away their cell phone. They probably thought I was old and crotechety, but I don’t care, it was the principal of the matter. The nerve of some people!
I Don’t Care if It’s a Dry Heat… Its Still Hot as Hell in Here
One of my favorite things when I land in a new place is disembarking from the plane and feeling the air from outside seep through the gap between where the jetway meets the plane doors. I got off the plane and was met with a gush of hot, dry air. Welcome to Phoenix.
Steele Indian School Park, Phoenix. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
I collected Kelly by the rental car, and after a fight with the woman at Enterprise over the benefits of NOT “upgrading” to a mini-van, we were on our way to the suburbs of Phoenix…Gilbert to be exact.
Grand Canyon. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
Let me be frank – there is not a whole lot to do in the suburbs of Phoenix, but we did go to a couple of very nice restaurants and bars in the Willo area of Phoenix, and in Scottsdale. Our first day we left to take a four hour drive to the Grand Canyon. The Canyon is amazing. If you find the right spot devoid of tourists, you can find the perfect balance of serenity. August is not one of the more crowded months, but it was still crowded. I can’t imagine what its like in early summer. Kelly and I hiked the Rim Trail, but didn’t go very far into the Canyon because we didn’t have a lot of time, and she was afraid of heights. Later that night, we checked into our hotel, the Yavapai Lodge, which in daylight looks like a creepy motel, but at night with desert foliage framing it, soft lights reflecting off of its walls, and the stars twinkling down on it, looks positively charming. We dined at the Arizona Room, which is located at the Bright Angel Lodge. It is supposed to be one of the better restaurants at the Grand Canyon, and I suppose after a day of hiking, walking, and hanging out with mules you aren’t too picky about your food. My baby back ribs were nothing special, the chipotle sauce lacking both that smoky kick that I was expecting, and a fall-off-the-bone flavor. The only truly fantastic thing on the menu was a peach summer berry streudel which was fantastic served with vanilla ice cream.
Sunrise at the Grand Canyon. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
I didn’t come there for the food, so I wasn’t too disappointed. Besides, while we were waiting for our table to be ready, Kelly and I enjoyed a Fat Tire draft on the front patio and unexpectedly saw an Elk, in the middle of his rut, try to attack several passersby.
The next morning, Kelly and I woke up early to watch the sunrise. I attempted to run along the Rim Trail, but was unfortunately thwarted by the extremely thin air, and the fact that I embarked on a one mile vertical climb for the first ten minutes of my run. Fantastic.
Kelly and I left the Grand Canyon shortly thereafter, and headed for Jerome, Arizona, a ghost town known for its multiple haunted establishments, and its old copper mining history. Although we traveled to pretty much all of the “vortexes” in town trying to catch glimpses of ghosts, we didn’t catch any. On the way home we stopped at Prescott, Arizona’s Whiskey Row, which is supposed to house a collection of historical saloons, but was really just a disappointment.
Two Squirrels on the Edge of the Canyon. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
Jerome, AZ. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
About 40 miles from home Kelly and I got a flat tire. Like a serious flat tire. Like a – I was riding on the rim going 75 miles per hour and I’m lucky I got into the shoulder – flat tire. Anyway, we were trapped in a boiling hot car on the side of Interstate 17 ignoring each other like old lesbians. I really wish I had a picture — both of the flat tire and of us ignoring each other.
The rest of our trip was filled with just hanging out. We went to Steele Indian School Park (300 E. Indian School Road, Phoenix, AZ) to check out the open air art and fish pond. We paid a visit to the Phoenix Art Museum (1625 N. Central Avenue, Phoenix, AZ), which I have to say is an amazing art museum that rivals many of the ones in Manhattan, and might even be superior to some of the good ole’ boys. The PAM has much better signage, so when you are looking at an contemporary art piece, there is a very clear explanation of the artist’s intent, or where the artist fits into a greater movement, which allows for a much greater appreciation of the piece itself. I find that that is generally lacking in museums today. It might be snobbery or laziness, or it might clutter the display aesthetically, but I find that if I have to do my own research before or after I see an exhibit I get very displeased.
We ate bruschetta and crispy salads (try getting a vegetable in the Southwest, just try!) at My Florist Cafe (534 W. McDowell Road, Phoenix, AZ)in the Willo District before heading to the Diamondbacks game. I guess I didn’t put two and two together that baseball season is in the summer time and summer time is well over 100 degrees every day in Arizona, but the stadium is INSIDE. AND air conditioned! Most comfortable baseball game I’ve ever been to!
We had a family BBQ on our last night in town and Kelly and I headed out to Papago Brewery (7107 East McDowell Road, Scottsdale, AZ), which brews their own beer, and has a delicious Coconut Coffee Stout on tap. We then headed over to American Junkie (4363 N. 75th Street, Scottsdale, AZ ) in Old Scottsdale where we finished off the night. I like American Junkie because it is preppy but edgy, like me. Its like wearing a leather biker jacket and fashioning a bow out of some strapping leather for fashion’s sake.
Giant Tacos Running @ Diamondbacks Ballpark. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
I always love seeing my family, but traveling to Arizona and spending time in Gilbert is like spending time in the suburbs… and to top it off, its a suburb where I don’t know anyone and can’t escape. Next time I go I’m spending more time in Scottsdale. Total mistake on my part.
Anyway, I am back and its going to be a great fall! Are you ready?
Weekend Update: Coney Island, Pasties, and Harry Potter Thwarted
Ahhhh…and the countdown to my jump into the Hudson begins.
Hudson River from Bear Mountain Bridge, courtesy of Wikipedia
Saturday I dived into the frigid waters of the Atlantic Ocean at Coney Island to prepare for the open water swim portion of my upcoming triathlon. As you should know by now, I’m participating in the Nautica New York City Triathlon as a member of the Leukemia Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training. Click here to make a donation.
The swim was pretty decent, but I don’t know how I am going to deal with a million people being on top of me at the race start. I had a brilliant idea to just hang back a little bit, but I am afraid that is going to be everyone else’s brilliant idea too and that more undesired congestion will ensue. I guess we’ll have to just play this one by ear.
I then skipped the run portion of our workout to go home and get ready for my trip to the NEW Yankee Stadium!!! I have mixed feelings about how necessary it was to spend all of that money on the new stadium. Undeniably, it was a minimum of bad timing on the City’s part, oh with the economic crisis and all. But enough of my political ramblings, and onto my observations regarding Alex Rodriguez’s bum… I mean, the new Stadium.
We first took a quick browse through the Yankee’s Museum before heading over to the concessions stand. My feelings on the museum are generally ambivalent. While some of the older memorabilia was interesting, like the jerseys of Babe Ruth and Lou Gherig, for example, the newer memorabilia was frankly redundant. As my friend Lauren appropriately pointed out — why do I need to see Mariano Rivera’s mitt in the Yankee’s Museum, when I can see it on the field. Indeed.
Ugh, $6 hot dog
Now onto the concessions. According to a Yankee’s press release, they were keeping their $3 hot dogs and soft drinks as a commitment to “affordability”. Well after going to the Hebrew National stand, the Johnny Rocket’s stand, and standing in line at the Nathan’s Hot Dogs stand for about 15 minutes, said $3 hot dogs were nowhere to be found. It took about that long for me to realize that they were actually the “kid’s hot dogs”, which by the way were not available at that time. Outrageous!! Now if anyone knows if there are actual adult sized $3 hot dogs to be found at Yankees Stadium, please correct me. Similarly outrageous was the $10 I paid for a Miller Lite draft (albeit in a souvenir cup), and the $9 I paid for a BOTTLE of Miller Lite in the stands (remedied only by the fact that I didn’t have to get out of my seat to get it. I did, however, have to practically give the guy next to me a lap dance trying to get my IDs over to the vendor. Score for him.)
All in all, it was worth it to see A-Rod’s bum … I mean…. the Yankees beat Detroit (although it did take until about the Sixth inning for anyone to score).
Me & Abby @ Yankee Stadium
Joshua Dean in Action
Saturday night, my friend Abby, myself, and a bunch of my coupley friends went to the Galapagos Art Space for the Floating Kabarette (Main Street at Water Street, Brooklyn, NY). The Floating Kabarette is hosted by a pair of interesting characters who call themselves Olga and Bjorn, who sport a wardrobe consisting mostly of leotards and bathing suits from American Apparel. Olga was so thin I think I saw her internal organs. Over the course of approximately three hours, they introduced various acts including Burlesque dancers (one of whom had a wardrobe malfunction and exposed her nipple Janet Jackson style), aerial acrobatics, a magician, and a trapeze artist.
Olga and Bjorn left nothing to the imagination in their sexually charged dialogue, disposing of innuendo and going for the obvious. At one point, Olga, who sports a faux Eastern European accent slipped into a Midwestern accent.
Although it was generally entertaining, the best parts of the show were for one the space (Galapagos Art Space’s bottom level is a pool over which banquettes are suspended, making several “islands”), and second the aerial acrobatics performer, Joshua Dean who incredibly talented. After taking an aerial acrobatics class, I truly appreciate how difficult it is to accomplish those feats (and painful the next day). Joshua Dean is performing again on August 14th in his show Suspended Cirque: Urbanopolis at the Galapagos Art Space, and while I probably would not return for the Floating Kabarette, I would go back to see him.
A free drink, either the signature apricot lemonade or a draft beer, was included with the admission price ($10). The apricot lemonade, served in a martini glass, was too cloying, and although it purported to have alcohol in it, I didn’t feel a thing. It was a waste of calories.
Sunday was a lazy day. Abby and I had planned on seeing Harry Potter in IMAX 3D, but we failed to plan ahead and by the time we went to buy tickets the morning of the performance, they were already sold out.
Yesterday (Monday) I had my first aerial acrobatics class at the New York Circus Arts Academy. Its ridiculously fun, but ridiculously hard. We climbed up the silks, and did some inversions. My entire body (especially my crotchal muscles and my hands), is in pain. The most significant pain is in my inner thigh muscles and my hands. I am just hoping I get better at this soon, because otherwise I’m going to essentially be torturing myself every week.
What’s on the Agenda for this Week?
Tomorrow (Wednesday, July 22nd) I am going to the Restless Legs Reading at Lolita Bar (266 Broome Street @ Allen Street, 212.966.7223). Restless Legs brings travelers, travel writers, and the like together for book readings which focus on sharing tales from the road.
Tomorrow’s reading is called: the Holy Foreskin vs. Amazon. One of the readings will be from David Gann, a staff writer at The New Yorker, who’s new book, The Lost City of Z, is an account of exploring the Amazon. From the New York Times: ”The Lost City of Z is at once a biography, a detective story, and a wonderfully vivid piece of travel writing that combines Bruce Chatwinesque powers of observation with a Waugh-like sense of the absurd.” The second reading will be from David Farley (the creator of Restless Legs), who’s book An Irreverent Curiosity: In Search of the Church’s Strangest Relic in Italy’s Oddest Town which is about his search to find the foreskin of Jesus.
And for the rest of the week? A whole lot of nothing quite frankly. Since Sunday is the New York City Triathlon, I’m going to be resting a lot and attending various pre-race meetings as it gets closer to Sunday. I might try to catch up on some movies that I have been meaning to see (i.e., Year One, The Hangover, &c.).
If anyone wants to come and watch me to swim you can go to these locations. My swim wave goes off at either 6:20 and 6:23 AM (Yes, that’s AM):
Swim Start – Riverside Park & 98th Street on the Hudson River.
Swim Exit - Riverside Park & 79th Street on the Hudson River.
Run Course - along 72nd Street from Henry Hudson Parkway to Central Park West
Race Finish – Dead Road in Central Park near the band shell off the 72nd Street Transverse
I’m just hoping that my experience wont be like this guy’s.
Weekend Update: Authentic Restaurant Experiences, The Office, and Suburban Bliss.
This weekend was pretty low key. I stayed in on Friday night in anticipation of the BRick (a triathlon term meaning Bike, Run, legs feel like “ick”) I had to do on Saturday morning, but unfortunately never made it out of bed. I’ve been sleeping at weird hours lately, and it needs to stop. I will sleep 8 hours a night, but from like 6 am to 2 pm or something ridiculous like that. I’m missing daylight, not getting enough vitamin D, and getting zero accomplished.
Simit, Courtesy of Wikipedia
Saturday I went to the IstanbulLive Turkish music festival at Summer Stage in Central Park with Sharon. Or, I should say I attempted to go to the Turkish music festival. We showed up an hour after it started, and couldn’t get in. Who knew that Turkish music was so popular? Then again, I suppose one cannot underestimate the power of a free event in the park on a sunny Saturday. Sharon and I lingered around outside, where I was eyeing up a woman with a delicious looking simit, but then got bored and left. We finished off the night with beers at Doc Watson’s (1490 Second Avenue, between 77th and 78th), and with dinner at A La Turka (1417 Second Avenue at 74th Street). A La Turka, if not for the food, is service-wise one of the most Turkish experiences that you can have in New York City. Those of you who have beern to Turkey will understand exactly what I mean. For those of you who haven’t – think the surliest possible service ever, a non-existent bartender, and a hostess who doesn’t even write your name down while you are waiting for a table. Get it? Good. The lamb yogurt kepab and the sigara boregi (turkish feta with dill wrapped in phyllo dough and fried…can you say delicious?) were the only saving grace.
On Sunday, I went to visit my college friend Danielle in Connecticut. I try to get out there every three months to save her and her husband from the monotony of suburban life, and to make sure that their son, Brennen, actually remembers who I am. I do make an impression, but my effect on those who are under the age of three is still inconclusive.
So, what’s on the agenda for this week?
Tonight was my last travel writing class, and the entire class got together at La Nacional (239 W. 14th Street between 7th and 8th Avenues), which is an adorable low key cafe underneath the Spanish Benevolent Society. I’ve apparently been having a lot of authentic meals in this city lately, because La Nacional, too was one of the most authentic Spanish meals that I’ve had in this country. The, served in an enormous cast iron traditional skillet, was brimming with seafood of all kinds: shrimp, clams, mussels (and a little chicken snuck in there as well). All in all, we had a great time, and essentially each polished off our own pitcher of refreshing sangria. Travel writing buddies — I’ll miss you guys, and good luck on your summer adventures!
Also, this week I am on the search for an “office” where I can go during the day to do work. Last week I posed the question of which cafes I can go to in the city to do work during the day. Nobody seemed to have an answer, although two of my friends questioned why I would want to leave my apartment where I can nap and have the liberty to run about with no pants on. This is an excellent question, but the answer is basically that I cannot be trusted to get anything done while my fluffy queen sized bed is only feet away, and without pants (or at least a skirt on). When one is unemployed, one must stay busy.
Anyway, the bottom line is that I’ve realized that this is a fabulous mission. So this week I’ll be going to various locations throughout the city: cafes, Starbucks, parks, &c. in order to determine which are the best locations for getting work done.
So that’s it for now. I will continue compulsively exercising (see pic me in wetsuit), unsuccessfully teaching Mr. J to walk on a leash, and going to museums. Look out this week for my review of Vintage Irving’s 20 for $20 wine special that the Real Estate-trix and I went to last Tuesday, and of my museum of the week review of the Rose Center for Earth and Space at the Museum of Natural History which I visited last Thursday. I’ve also compiled a list of museums that have suggested admission prices, and deals on specific days, as I’ve realized that there is no such comprehensive list anywhere on the internet. There are various lists floating about, but some of them are not accurate, and few are totally comprehensive. Hopefully this will be of some use to all of you as well! Look for a post tomorrow.
That’s all for now… I’m out!
Free: Small Pinkberry from 5-9 tonight!
I go through phases where I can’t get enough of one thing, and then three weeks later its ancient history. I had one of these incidents with Pinkberry last summer, where my friend Juan and I would go there every night after I had been released from my jail cell office. Recently I’ve been in love with 40 Carrots frozen yogurt, which I have been enjoying after oogling the goodies after my weekly trip to the allergist. Its not cheap, but its one of my worth it weekly indulgences.
Well I might change my tune tonight because Pinkberry is releasing their new summer flavors, Coconut and Passionfruit AND to celebrate, will be giving away a free small serving tonight, Friday, June 26th from 5-9pm. I can’t get enough of frozen confections so if the line is not around the block I might swing by.
Pinkberry locations can be found here.
Free: I Don’t Think You’re Ready for This Jell-O
This strikes me as something that would be a competition on Top Chef, but right here in New York, the Gowanus Studio Space (119 8th Street; Suite 202 (between 2nd and 3rd Avenues), Brooklyn, New York), normally a workshop space for designers and artists, will host a Jell-O mold competition this Saturday, June 20, 2009. Jell-O molds will be set up between 4-5pm with judging by a “crack panel” (whatever that means) between 6-8pm. The winners will be announced at 8pm.
This is just absurdity. But seems like fun absurdity, and I’m sure people will come up with some amazing designs (I mean, crazy things can be done with food, have you seen the Ace of Cakes?).
If I weren’t headed to Belmar, New Jersey for the weekend to attend my High School reunion I would probably sneak over and see what was going on over there. But alas, I will be oogling beer bellies and the loose stomachs of those who have given birth, and seeing who is pumping gas at the local Sunoco.
Afternoon Delight for Carnivores – Snapple Big Apple BBQ Review
It could best be described as a meat orgy. Hundreds of New Yorkers, sweating through their ironic T-Shirts together in a fountain turned off specifically for this occasion gnawed on sausage and ribs and brisket, sauce dripping down their faces and fingers. As I snapped pictures, people barely noticed my presence, more entranced in their Kansas City BBQ Ribs than in how their hair looked for their photo op. The Romans could not have created a better scene — it was pure gluttony, pure ecstasy…and fabulously of all, it was right in Madison Square Park.
Kelly and I went to the 7th Annual Snapple Big Apple BBQ on Sunday, June 14th, and it could be described as nothing short of a carnivore’s delight. We braved the lines, heat, smoke, and immediate danger to our arteries for the love of brisket and pulled pork, and let me tell you — it was worth it.
Calling all 'cue fans! (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
If I had to do this all over again, I would probably have gone with multiple people and ordered a BBQ Fun Pass in advance (these had to be purchased by May 31st on the website). They came with $100 pre-loaded and a special express line. All in all, however, I found most people’s advance warnings to be histrionic. Their warnings that the lines were an hour and a half long were extreme exaggerations. Kelly and I didn’t wait at all for Brisket at Hill Country BBQ, waited about 15 minutes for Pulled Pork at Blackjack BBQ, and waited about 10 minutes for a Brownie a la mode from Blue Smoke Desserts.
Our first food stop was Hill Country, located on which was serving Brisket and Cool as a Cucumber Salad, and surprisingly did not have a line in front of it. Hill Country is notorious for long waits in their NYC restaurant so it was surprising that there were no lines out front. But, this is exactly the type of situation Hill Country staff is equipped for — enormous lines of people — since that’s the way their restaurant is set up. At any rate, no complaints for me. We grabbed our Brisket ($8), which included lean and “moist” (a.k.a. fatty) selections, and walked over to our second stop, Blackjack BBQ.
The moist brisket had a bit too much fat for my taste, but the lean brisket had the perfect ratio of meat to fat with a buttery melt-in-your-mouth consistency. Complimented beautifully by Hill Country’s BBQ sauce and sweet yet vinegary cool as a cucumber salad, it was the perfect “snack” to have while waiting on line for our second meal of the day — Blackjack BBQ’s Pulled Pork and Cole Slaw.
Although Blackjack BBQ, which is based in Charleston, SC , had a fifteen minute wait, it was worth it for one reason — the sauce. The pulled pork ($8) was tender and salty, but could have used additional smoking. The cole slaw was crispy and fresh, but lacked flavor. But the sauce! Blackjack used their “Special Reserve” Butterscotch Bourbon sauce over the Pulled Pork which will mask anything. I am considering investing in a bottle and bringing it with me to all functions. Mother in law’s cooking is notoriously bad? Add Blackjack Butterscotch Bourbon sauce. College cafeteria on the top 100 worst places to eat in America list? Add Blackjack Butterscotch Bourbon sauce. The stuff is magic, both sweet and savory at the same time with a complex burnt sugar finish. I’m glad I waited on line for this sole reason.
We also took a trek over to the Blue Smoke Desserts tent (Blue Smoke is located at 116 East 27th Street bn Lexington and Park) where I ate a brownie covered in ice cream ($4 for the brownie, $4 for the a la mode). It was unremarkable mostly because the brownie appeared to be a grocery store brownie of some sort covered in Edy’s Ice Cream (Edy’s Slow Churned Yogurt Blends was a sponsor, so I dont see why the regular Edy’s Ice Cream cost $4 extra, but desperate times call for desperate measures). Shake Shack, if it had been open, would have been a better bet.
I unfortunately did not partake in the beer garden because I had unrealistic expectations of going for a run in Central Park after going to the Barbecue. Obviously after stuffing myself with Brisket, Pulled Pork, and half a Brownie with Ice Cream, this was nothing but a fantasy. Although I should have gone running, the only sport I engaged in was competitive napping. However, this is where the Fun Pass would have come in most handy, because the lines were the longest for beer not BBQ (go figure).
All in all, the Snapple Big Apple BBQ was a hit. Avoid at all costs if you are agoraphobic, hate big crowds, or are a vegetarian or vegan of some sort (although I did spot a woman eating sushi rice balls).
