February 2012
4 posts
The Most Japanese One
Bryan: Though the food snob in me hates to admit it, sometimes the people you eat with are more important to a meal than the quality of the entree. And for Bridgid’s birthday (Happy 21st!!) she assembled a group of the coolest girls (and girly guys) I could ask to scarf down chicken skin and squid/pork pancakes with. Joining us on this very special Post Beast Feast was Kate Hess (Murder...
The Dream of the '90s
Bridgid:
“On the N.B.C. network, it is forbidden to call any character a nut; you have to call him a screwball.” - [New Yorker Dec. 23, 1950] Imagine a woman sniffs some herbal tea and responds “This smells like the 70’s” remembering or perhaps romanticizing a 70’s vegetarianism brimming with barley tea, millet bread, and whatever else people in light-washed bell-bottoms...
Post Beast Feast Map
Check out the PBF map to find spots to feast and link to our reviews. It’s clickable!!
A Booth of One’s Own
Bryan: The East Village is a terrible place to sit down for a quiet drink. Every one of the hundreds of bars from Houston to 14th Street is constantly packed with screeching inebriated children. Spilling out onto the streets, these human shaped bags of puke and plaid turn me into a less cheery Andy Rooney, silently screaming “GET OFF MY LAWN” before I rush underground to the relative calm of the...
January 2012
3 posts
Cheap Silence and Barely Any Chicken
Bridgid: I’m not one to reach for a Chinese menu. My experience has been one of venous, over-large chicken chunks, Bunnicula-d broccoli, and lots of motorbike delivery jackets. I’ve ventured into soup dumplings territory and even glared as Bryan ate chicken feet in deep ChinaBrooklyn, wondering why were not eating raw fish and seaweed. My most recent PreBeast* feast reminded me that China is a...
Hot Soba For White Guys
Bryan: One if the things I most love about going out to Japanese restaurants is that the good ones specialize in only one type of meal. Yes, neighborhood takeout spots serve a variety of subpar maki rolls, teriyaki, and noodles, but the real deal places, of which there are many in the East Village, will tell you in their name what they’re best at. Sobakoh, hiding on 5th Street off of 2nd...
Trusting The Beef
Bridgid: After an all-female Oh Hey Guys, John Flynn and Nate Smith lingered at the Hot Chicks Room. Bryan, Michelle Markowitz and I headed up Avenue A. I was not thrilled that we were heading to a burrito joint. Burritos: the thought of starches smushed into a starch roll makes me blanch. A bean sandwich? A rice and wheat roll up? Am I receiving the transubstantiation of Christ-...
December 2011
2 posts
Grain Of The Future
Bridgid: Sometimes you are taking in the Arts Scene and you want to escape and be alone. Rather, you know you are a hypoglycemic mess and need to chew in silence in order to comfortably rejoin society. This was me on Monday night. I slipped away from my friends to dine solo at SnackDragon, a tiny taco shack in the land of suspenders and fedoras, the LES. Bryan was not in my coterie, or I...
November 2011
1 post
October 2011
2 posts
Hot, Reedy Couples
Bridgid: Our destination is my favorite outpost of my favorite New York restaurant chain. Souen is a macrobiotic restaurant. Macrobiotic cooking is, at its roots, a Japanese tradition. Souen’s food is typical Japanese fare. I also believe the food is cooked by people who “cook with love.” I’ll stop typing such things.
As Bryan and I walked west on 6th street towards our Post...
Spicier Sausage & Gloopier Cheese
Bryan: Every New Yorker has an opinion about Two Boots. Their Cajun inflected, cornmeal dusted pies are either a refreshing change from plain slice orthodoxy or complete sacrilege. I lie more in the former camp, and am tickled by their totally 90s bayou-chic ingredients and pop culture references. The Avenue A branch of this mini chain shares an address with UCBeast, so Bridgid and I felt it...
September 2011
5 posts
Not Sure Which One Is Decaf
Bryan: Another of my old haunts, this Ukranian diner/bar is open 24hrs and has a full liquor license. I suggest the diner section with its cheery florescent lighting, turquoise booths, and 106.7 blasting light rock classics. Anyone who prefers the dark, loud bar section is a poseur and a cokehead. Bridgid, Michelle and I had already eaten dinner, but we were joined by the dashing John Flynn, who...
I Am A Squid
Bryan: Bridgid wanted to go to Souen, a seriously depressing macrobiotic restaurant with various sea vegetables and bricks of cornbread with twice the density and half the taste of a wet sponge. I promise we’ll go there at some point, but I had to go to a place that at least served beer. The lovely Michelle Markowitz was with us, and her face scrunched up at the mention of macrobiotic food too....
Our Manifeasto
The Comedy Ghetto between Chelsea and Penn Station is absolutely the worst food neighborhood in Manhattan. Horse racing themed bars line 7th Avenue hawking identical menus of crusty chicken tenders and $18 pot-pies to deserving Rangers fans. NJ Transit commuters buy day old wraps and burnt coffee in delis before taking the 5:54 back to Sloatsburg.
Comics might travel below 23rd St, where...