week 43: the token awful one

 it had to happen sometime, no?

i don't really want to talk about it.

because this is a happy blog, goddamnit. 

not a the-cheese-in-this-fritter-tastes-like-it-was-once-powdered blog.

and certainly not a hold-on-a-sec-while-i-scrape-away-all-of-the-fat-on-this-pukey-looking-pork-that-i'm-going-to-try-anyways-because-it-costs-half-my-rent blog.

molly is a sad sad queasy barfy panda :-[

the good that came spewing out of this situation {like projectile style} was a lovely hang with wonderful friends,

and the reaffirmed belief that the only foods that should ever be consumed on the upper west side are
tacos

and bagels

and pizza.

pray that i make up for this one in my remaining nine restaurants.

xoxo

yeh

this restaurant has already been blocked out of my memory. don't ask me where it is or i'll hit you with the grumpy stick.

week 42: hill country chicken

fried chicken is an acquaintance of mine.

i've met it before, it says hi to me in the hallways, and i certainly have nothing against it... 

but in my wee days, when faced with the two children's menu staples of chicken fingers or mac and cheese,

my choice was always, always, always mac and cheese. 

something about the inconsistency of the breading from wansternaut to wansternaut is probably what did it.

{sorry, wansternaut is restaurant in wee me talk}

i simple never developed that intimate relationship with chicken fingers that i have with so many other foods.

but with today's visit to 

hill country chicken

i finally have a trusted friend in fried chicken.

in making up for lost time {or in saving room for pie at the end}

i got a kids meal :-)

two everythingisbiggerintexas chicken tenders

can you pretty please substitute my fries for 

cheesey mashed tatoes

 and

a buttermilk biscuit!

and an ample amount of honey mustard, hot sauce, honey, and ketchup. mmmmm sauce!

...

wow those are some juicy chicken tenders!!!

juicy and sweet and soft. and the protective shell was thick and crunchy and... oh it all tasted so fresh!

it transcended the impressions that my childhood chicken tenders had ingrained in me. 

so yummy. and even yummier was this sequence:

dip a chickens in hot sauce, then dip it in honey mustard, then eat it, and then immediately take a bite of the biscuit 

{to create the illusion of a biscuit sandwich}

the mashed tatoes were fine. i kept praying they'd turn into mac and cheese. but you can't eatem all. 

dessert was a baby pie!!

it's happening, it's really happening:

pies are the new donuts which were the new cupcakes until pies became the new cupcakes. 

and by commutative property:

pies are the new cupcakes.

whoopie!!!!!! {no pun intended, but get it? i thought it was clev.}

anyways, as much as i wanted to report back that i ate an apple cheddar pie,

i was way more in the mood for the 

whiskey buttermilk pie!

 it was adorable. almost like a lighter, soupier crack pie. 

the whiskey took me a second to register. but it's there. oh it's there.

dear hill country chicken,

thanks for making me a friend in fried chicken.

also thanks for being there for all of the people who think they want kfc but would rather enjoy a finer meat and a longer life. 

...10. ten! x. restaurants to go. holy cow.

xoxo

yeh

hill country chicken is on the corner of 25th and broadway

 {a block away from its mommy, hill country barbecue}

week 41: donatella

after a week of boring, sad, poopy, forgettingmyjacketwhenitwasreallycold-ness,

all i want in a pizza night is the suburbs, a puppy or two, bat mitzvah sweatpants, lou malnati's, and maybe some of mum's boozey brownies for dessert... 

but in the event that home is like a ten day bike ride away,

the happiest choice is to embrace this city and experience a kind of pizza night that would never exist in the chicago suburbs... 

one that includes:

a giant gold pizza oven

 donatella arpaia's cleavage 

and pizza that you eat with your hands. 

and luke!!

 ...like mustards, there can never be too many napoletana pizza places in my life. 

so praise cheeses for 

donatella.

in the beginning, there was arancini filled with peas and sausage

which at first seemed nakey without red sauce, but at first bite had so much flavor that adding sauce would have just been silly.

if there's anything more underrated than knickers, it's arancini.

 i don't know why more people don't stuff their faces with them every single day of their lives. 

...

word on the street about the margherita up in here is that it's perfect.

{so that choice was obvious}

also obvious was the choice to get the

diavola

spicy sausage+chili oil+mozzarella+tomaters

they were both absolutely delicious!! 

they oozed with flavor... i don't even think red pepper and parmesan shakers even {need to} exist here.

the margherita was indeed amazing, and the diavola, while fire-in-my-mouth inducing, was super tasty.

the only problem with perfect things is that there's no room for the fat kids 

{the flawed, uneven, overly-doughy parts that i love more than anything {is that cause i'm a fat kid?}} 

the crust was gooey and perfectly charred, 

but i wanted more of it!!!!

but instead of ordering another margherita, i filled up the excess tummy space with donuts 

i know, i know, i'll shut up about donuts already. i'm working on pie now... 

donatella's zeppole in a verse by luke:

we have balls. 

we have cherries.

 we have creme.

i'm gonna pop this cherry. 

there's also nuts.

they, too, were so good!

everything was so solid!

and do you know how fun it is to enjoy a meal while a gold r2d2 is in the corner?

really reeeeally fun!

can all of the rest of my 11 restaurants be napoletana pizza? please? maybe?

xoxo

yeh

donatella is on 8th between 19th and 20th.

week 40: terroir

an amazing meal in this city is easy to find. i can walk out my front door, spit, and trust that my spit will land on multiple good food places.

an amazing experience is a little more high maintenance. it takes super silly people, endless good conversation, magic, glitter, a crap ton of tasties, 

and gallons of riesling. 

good thing my night at terroir had all of that.

::::

my dates consisted of oleg, hannah {you know them from here}, donny, and mister culverlake. 

and we're all friends because of schnitzel. it's like a schnitzel fan club. or mafia. or support group.

but apparently if you're out with the schnitzel truck man, it's faux pas to order schnitzel. 

so i held my tongue and we got the selection on the menu that said something to the effect of

if you don't like looking at menus,

sit your tookus down and we'll bring you whatever we want to bring you. 

best decision ever. 

 for hours we sat, sipping wine, talking about cheese and paris and other awesome things, 

and every so often a new little plate would come strolling out, begging to be destroyed.

beet risotto balls flew through the air, bone marrow bruschetta globbed across the table, 

and at one point, without even thinking about it, i ate a mushroom sandwich. {i was just having such a good time and all of a sudden a mushroom was in my mouth, and i noticed it, but i somehow didn't care i just kept eating it...and i survived, miraculously.}

we also got chicken liver and crispy duck salad and lamb sausages and dandelion greens and a reuben!

yep, i think we actually tried just about everything on the menu except for the schnitzel. awkward.

 it was delicious. everything had gobs of flavor! my favorites were the bright red risotto balls and the duck salad and the chicken liver. 

really. four of my new favorite people + risotto balls...under one roof?? i was certainly a happy molly.

cruising through manhattan afterwards, listening to la roux... that made a happy molly too. 

go to terroir. wear your eating pants, don't ride your bike there, and bring a lot of {cool} people so that you can try everything. it will be a jolly time.

...oh my...i've got12 restaurants to go.

xoxo

yeh

terroir {terr-warr} is on harrison and greenwich in tribeca. there's another one on east 12th... but tribeca is so gosh darn pretty!