On a whim a couple weeks ago, I decided to try to walk to Central Park from Brooklyn. Unfortunately, my foot gave up as I managed to get as far as Roosevelt Island. But before setting foot on the island, I remembered visiting the island several years ago when I first moved to New York City and how dark it was. I decided to call it a day. After all, I had already conquered a large amount on foot and mind.
I began the walk that ended in Long Island City with the same serenity that I began it with.
I have to say that clowns fighting Nazis sounded entertaining. I pictured an Indiana Jones cartoon sequel in my mind when I booked my bus tickets to Washington D.C for the unity rally meets Insane Clown Posse protest.
I had never listened to Insane Clown Posse prior to that bus trip. When I switched to the Insane Clown Posse channel on spotify, I understood why I never bothered. The first song was about eating people.
But it will be an interesting fight I thought. But it was anything but. I saw no clowns. And there was actually not more than one hundred people at the pro Trump rally. Not the yuge turnout everyone was hoping for.
I have never been to a political rally before. I actually hate American politics. But even though the crowd was not big, I did not get bad vibes there. I may not agree with everything that they believe, but as I walked around, no one bothered me. No one harassed me or picked on me. I was free. I did not see Nazi flags. I saw no hate. I saw people-black and white-doing their own thing and socializing together. I saw what our country needs right now.
Towards the end of the rally, I was walking away, and a guy was taking a video of the phone. He was making fun of the people there and saying how a mother of all rallies is not big at all. He was obviously from the left.
He was right that the rally was not big. But if anyone spewed hate that day, it was him. He chased people down in order to make fun of them. He had to take a video to be famous with his friends. That’s how he, and many liberals, live their life while posing as the good guys.
Like I said, I hate American politics. But I know that I don’t want to live in the false promises of acceptance that the left provides.
Whether you call them french fries, chips, or Belgian fries, the common denominator is that they are delicious with pretty much anything.
There are many ways to eat this beloved potato treat. And as usual, New York City has plenty of bars and restaurants to choose from that serve them in any shape, size, and style. I’ll save the ketchup vs mayo debate for the rest of you. The only condiment really worth putting on french fries is vinegar, and that is only for fries of a certain type and it also depends on the amount of salt that is already put on them.
Let’s celebrate National July 13 French Fry Day NYC style!
The Dining Room in downtown Brooklyn has skinny fries. Do not let that fool you. These french fries are like eating crack they are so addicting! For those that like to drink cheap, they have Coors on Happy Hour Monday thru Friday. Get the Coors. Spend money ordering these fries. You’ll thank me later!
The Dining Room, just like some houses, has a fireplace for the cold winter months. These french fries taste just as good by the fireplace as they do sitting at the bar!
Yes, you are seeing that right. This is the biggest french fry sandwich, also known as a chip butty, you will see outside of England. Wash it down with some good English beer.
If you’re more into the chips, McKenna’s Pub near Union Square has the most affordable fish and chips in NYC without sacrificing too much quality. It’s pure luck getting in though, as it can get extremely crowded.
Who said Greeks did not know french fries? The guys at Gyro World do! Get the platter, and you will get your meat dish with a large portion of french fries. Just the right size. Just the right amount of salt.
Going from Nepal to Jamaica in the same day can only happen in New York City. Stumbling upon a video about Jamaican beef patties coincidentally a few days before I actually ate one for the first time would only happen to me. I love how random and exciting life can be at times.
I found myself walking around Brooklyn Saturday afternoon, and I heard loud music. It was reggae, and that will always draw me in. The first thing I noticed besides the booming music was that it drew in a long line ahead of me. A woman in the line told me that it was an event where they give out free food. As usual, I never know who “they” is that everyone always talks about, but in this case, it had to do with free food and not conspiracies. I took my place in line despite the length.
I got caught in a downpour and my clothes clung to my body. I did not care. I discovered there was free jerk chicken somewhere in there. Like those before me, I waited out the storm.
It took about two hours in total of waiting in line. But it was worth it. There was no spot for foodie pics of the finished product, but trust me. I got enough jerk chicken to feed two or three people. THey also had jerk pork, hot dogs, hamburgers, and sweets.
I personally thought the beef resembled a paste. I’m also not sure if the guy in the video would classify this as a normal or mild patty. But after watching this video, I appreciate the beef patty more because of how passionate people are towards it. Whether you agree that the spreading and adapting of the beef patty is gentrification or embrace the fact that other people eat your food before it becomes society’s food fetish, you must always remember to appreciate the origin of the food.
Not to mention how affordable they were before gentrification made the price of the food skyrocket.
Tower Isles is a beef patty factory located in Bedstuy, Brooklyn. In the morning, you will smell beef patties all around. They also have a factory where you can get an affordable beef patty fix for a snack or meal. Take some home and freeze them.
The festival was great despite the rain. Good music and friendly people. Thank you Tower Isles for being a part of the community!
My favorite neighborhood in New York City, Ridgewood, is being saturated with copycat hipster bars with a beer selection as homogeneous as the types of people who frequent the establishments. Oddly enough, Ridgewood still keeps to its old school vibe of European shops and Latino restaurants. But a new diversity has landed in Ridgewood in the form of Nepalese food at While in Kathmandu on Seneca Avenue.
I was sickened to read earlier today about a two story Notorious B.I.G mural that will be taken down thanks to gentrification in Bedstuy. Biggie Smalls is more important to Bedstuy than any greedy landlord or developer in New York City. And more loved too.
Americans sure do love their burgers. In fact, even the vegetarians cannot live without burgers, so there are different variations of veggie burgers. It’s a staple of American lifestyle, so there is a saturation of burger joints around the country, the most famous of them being McDonald’s. Most recently, more artisan burger joints have taken the nation by storm. Unfortunately in most cases, they are all the same. As far as New York City burgers go though, Bareburger is in a league of its own.
The first thing I noticed about Quebec City was all the green roofs on the buildings. They added to the unique character of the cute city, whose architecture is influenced by France in the sixteenth century. In fact, Quebec City was founded in 108, and the province of Quebec is the former capital of New France, the French colony in North America that ran from Louisiana to northern Canada.
All my life, I have loved seeing the flags of other countries. It was no surprise that I would take a picture of the flag of Quebec even though it was a providence of Canada and not an independent country. But what makes Quebec’s flag special is that it was the first providence flag of Canada, and it was flown for the first time in 1948. Each year in Quebec, Flag Day to honor the Fluerdelisé, the flag’s French name, is held on January 21.
Being in a bilingual environment is fun, and I was able to experience it for the first time for the past 72 hours in Quebec City. When most everyone around you is multilingual, including yourself, it is less pretentious.