Can't I just be a little bit bulimic?

Available for purchase in our hotel room and it's about damn time. Who needs $7 nuts anyway? (All together now---that's what she said.)

I lived in New York for close to a year back in 2004. Prior to this and since, I’ve made it to the city at least twice a year (usually more) and have such love for it that Dan picked Central Park as the place to ask me to marry him. Despite all this, I haven’t been inside the Empire State Building since seventh grade, I couldn’t point to Staten Island on a map, and I’ve never seen the Statue of Liberty up close.

What have I done? Eaten a lot of food. (In addition to the work experience I gained while living there, I also got an extra 20 pounds under my belt. I’m not the type who can eat and eat without repercussions though I would like to organize their mass genocide.) During lunch breaks I would gorge on tomato, mozzarella and basil sandwiches served on dense focaccia. The weekends I spent there conjure more images of Thai lunch combos and noodle shops than they do evenings of senseless drunkery. I have a clear memory of Mattie and I slogging through over a foot of sidewalk snow while it came down ever harder during a blizzard (literally up to my knees) to meet at one of my favorite Mexican restaurants for churros and, of course, margaritas. (No idea where those 20 pounds came from.)

This past weekend that Dan and I spent in NYC was no different. It was a series of meals and snacks interrupted only by the Broadway shows we saw on Friday and Saturday night. Here’s a list of everything we ate (though I will never again write all of it down because it hurts to recount it, especially as I sit here in pain due to my pants pinching my swollen belly.)

Friday:

Dinner:
-crispy truffle risotto balls
-prosciutto board served with grilled slices of baguette, salty sliced parmesan, olive tapenade and a small frisee and sundried tomato salad tossed with a tangy vinaigrette
-grilled flatbread topped with mozzarella, tomato and basil (I could eat this combo every day)
-zeppolis, freshly fried doughnut holes served with chocolate and caramel dipping sauces

Saturday:

Breakfast:
-a pear (I brought fresh fruit, thinking that would keep me on track; I’m very stupid for thinking this.)
- broccoli rabe, goat milk ricotta and parmesan frittata (Dan)
- grilled three-cheese sandwich with smoked ham and egg (me)
-sticky bun (shared)

Lunch (We headed down to the West Village where I worked during my time in NYC---and fell deeply in love with the area and food---for lunch. We ambled in and out of our favorite spots, eating our finds in sunny spots along the sidewalk.) :
-cheese biscuit from Amy’s Bread
-flat bread topped with fresh mozzarella, soppressata and fire roasted tomatoes (I’ll dream about those tomatoes) served warm from Murray’s cheese shop---a famous NYC spot
-a rice ball, prosciutto ball and potato croqueta from Faicco’s Pork Store---also a famous spot
-a slice and a half (each) of cheese pizza with crushed red pepper at Joe’s Pizza (not to be confused with Joe’s NY Pizza or any other Joe’s). This is my favorite pizza and my biggest NYC craving.
-cappuccino (Dan) Latte with skim (me---‘cuz I’m watching my calories)
-cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery (Way famous and way worth it. We had these cupcakes---from their spawn bakery, Buttercup---at our wedding. There's some drama there.) I’m ashamed to admit that we bought eight cupcakes---six of the vanilla with buttercream frosting, one carrot cupcake with cream cheese frosting, and one red velvet---and we only have two left (which are going to my sister Becky if they survive the night). They’re every bit worth it, but having six in two days (Dan and I shared ‘em) is excessive and compulsive and really quite sad.

Dinner (which we sat down to at midnight):
-Caesar salad (shared)
-penne and chicken served in a gorgonzola cheese sauce (me)
-Get ready for this: A baguette sliced open, filled with two grilled beef hotdogs, cheese melted on top and served with ketchup and sauerkraut (Dan) Fan-fucking-tastic.
-(you can bet your ass we ate a cupcake when we got back to our hotel room)

Sunday:

Breakfast:
-an apple (I was tryyyying…)
-Dan: ham and cheese omelet with potatoes, toast, etc
-Me: Fresh fruit and french toast

Lunch:
This is where it gets ugly. This thing happens when I start eating unhealthy foods. At first I enjoy it. I believe food can be art and should be appreciated on this level and certainly indulged in from time to time. That said, when I go on a bender like I did this weekend there comes a point where I inevitably take a turn and feel so bad (both physically and mentally) that I almost think I need to punish myself by eating more. (I realize that this sounds like the stuff of Lifetime movies but it’s not.)

This is where Burger King came into the picture. We stopped during the drive home. Dan had a Big Mac. (He’ll laugh at that---I wrote Big Mac and then realized that a Big “Mac” from BK doesn’t make sense. It was a Whopper---I googled it. He often laughs that I never know the difference between the two and have asked for Mcnuggets at BK.) This is where I got poisoned. After eating my two cheeseburgers with ketchup only and a small fry, I shut down. It immediately went to my brain and I got fuzzy and felt sick. I fell asleep in the car shortly thereafter but not before uttering these final words:

“I have to have a cupcake just to sop up the grease.”


P.S. Go see “Next to Normal.” Go see it now before Alice Ripley, the show’s lead, leaves it. Hurry. I have never seen anything like her performance in this show. Ripley plays a bipolar mother and wife navigating her way through illness and treatment while dealing with the complexity of love and the staggering haunting of loss. While this description sounds a bit like all musicals, I assure you it is not; I just don’t want to give too much away. This is not the stuff of gold top hats and kick lines. The writing is so intense and yet witty such that it allows the throbbing to be served up with a side of laughter. The rest of the five-person cast is incredible---this can’t be overstated and it really is a collaborative show---but for me, Ripley’s performance is the aspect that most shook me. I’ve never felt what I felt in that theater or have seen what I saw that night. I could not take my eyes off of her even during scenes in which she was not the focus because I didn’t want to miss one facial tic or trembling hand. The word “raw” is often overused in describing an actor’s work---but I don’t know that I’ve ever seen rawness in musical theater until now. She somehow accomplishes a fiery rawness while also seeming burnt out and charred and this is not a pun on the electric shock therapy which she endures. If you’re a glutton for the often painful emotional spectrum of women and mothers, as I am, get to New York as soon as possible.

“In the Heights” was also wonderful though some of the cast changes weakened it a bit for me. (This could absolutely be because I’ve been listening to the soundtrack nonstop for a couple of years and longed for the voices that I had come to know.) The handful of original cast members left delivered on every level. I still love this show---the music is incredible and the dancing is riveting. The story of the mostly Latino population of Washington Heights and their trials of today and yesteryear when their families came to the U.S. is poignant and important. It’s a great show---if you can’t go, get the music.

That’s it...