“Look at the stars, how far they are, Look at the stars, are they so far?
“I look at you, your like a star, it’s how you are, go be a star.”
New York City really is a jungle, an urban jungle, but a jungle none the less. Think about it. Imagine for a moment that you were in the Amazon, never having been there before, with little to no knowledge of your surroundings. What would you do? Where would you go? Would you be afraid? Lost? Confused? What thoughts would you have? How would you get food? How would you survive?
These seem to be the same issues and thoughts that most of the New Yorkers I know are presented with on a day to day basis. Myself included. This place is a fucking jungle, and I love it.
Take yesterday for example. A friend of mine wanted to take me out to dinner so I could try this awesome place called Red Bamboo and discover their secrets. The place is completely vegan but every dish is supposed to mock some type of meat dish. She wanted me to attempt to figure out the buffalo wings which even had a “bone” in them and were served with a side of “blue cheese”. They were mind blowing, to say the least. On the way to the restaurant, about 20 blocks away, it started to downpour. I had my backpack on from a delivery I had just made and upon getting an urge, I stripped my shirt off, put it in my backpack, and ran, in sandals, 20 blocks in the pouring rain to the restaurant. There were a lot of looks, laughs, and stares throughout the run but I got a few people riled up along the way about the freedom of running in the rain. Smiling the whole 2o blocks. After drying off with a sock, my pants were wet as a bathing suit but my shirt was safe for dinner.
No need to further that story for I am here to talk about today (now yesterday). My bro (brother, not gangsta way of saying friend) and I did all kinds of crazy cooking/food related stuff. For one, he wanted to make waffles, I suppose he never had access to a waffle maker before and waffles are indeed quite delicious. I started helping him with small details, I am pretty much a knowledge bank full of fuck ups. By screwing up so many times I am able to tell him what not to do more so than what to do when it comes to making a variety of meals.
I went up to the garden, grabbed some fresh huckleberries that were perfectly ripe, and then I saw this:
If I was in Costa Rica, or some other beautifully stunning place, I am sure that while I would have appreciated this, it would not have had the same effect as it did on me at the time. The mere fact that something this colorful and alive was climbing on my celery tree, in my brooklyn rooftop garden, blew my mind. It sort of restored my faith in the Big Apple. There might be a lot of crap out there, but the gems, when you find them, are unbeatable.
I’d say that the dish that my bro and I co-created above was one of those gems. He made the waffle batter, poured in some rainbow sprinkles, and then I threw in the fresh picked huckleberries. After we cooked up the waffles, Mike cut them up and placed them in the shape of a star (I could have never thought of that), put a nice scoop of the apricot melon water ice that we made from our CSA fruit share on top, and then drizzled a butterscotch caramel all over it.
Woah. What the hell is going on in my mouth? Why does this taste so light and refreshing? Do I really exist right now or is it just the food talking? All common phrases throughout the tasting. I’ve had waffles with whipped cream, I’ve had waffles with ice cream, but water ice? Who woulda thought?
Other notable cooking experiences; we bought an incredible knife, fuck me for not realizing how important this was in the past. I mean sure I knew how much a chef needed a knife, but not until I sliced that tomato paper thin did I REALLY see the importance. We also made our first attempt at Creme Brulee with torch and all. It didn’t go exactly right but it was fun flame torching the sugar.