for the first 18 years of my life,
post-concert food meant:
steak 'n shake
home run inns with mum
nothing because nothing good was open...
*and now it is like*
let's pray there's not a long wait at the spotted pig
so we can eat a chicken liver toast.
bone marrow and half-bottles at landmarc, now.
which is definitely among my top ten reasons why i love new york.
so the other night when i was starving my belly off after a show
jusbin and i went down to the village with the intention of
frozen yogurt or noodles or risotto or something,
but found ourselves on the hike to the spotted pig...
when i had a hunger meltdown at the foot of frankies 570.
kitchen open until 1am? how convenient.
excuse me as i push my nose up a little and tell you that
butternut squash soup
and a hot toddy
and a braised full artichoke
make the perfect midnight snackee.