I believe that there is no better way to understand a place and its
people than through their food.
Sight, smell, touch, sound…taste…all of the senses ignite when we eat good food and, more often than not (for me that is), it is love at first bite.
Sight, smell, touch, sound…taste…all of the senses ignite when we eat good food and, more often than not (for me that is), it is love at first bite.
How true,
how true, this was for me and Carly just last week as we set out on our
whirlwind-last hurrah-mother/daughter-before college-getaway to New York City.
With only four days and three nights to do our thing, I knew that proper
planning was going to be key in getting the most out of our adventure. So, for the last few weeks, after everyone
was tucked snug in their beds, I would sit bleary-eyed at my computer
researching the ideal itinerary for one middle-aged mom and one under-aged young
adult daughter seeking to squeeze a gallon of juice out of one Big Apple…all in
just over 72 hours!
That’s when
I met Famous Fat Dave.
I can’t
remember if was “Yelp” or “Chowhoud” or just a plain old Google search, but
from the minute I started to read about Famous Fat Dave's Food Tours to the moment I stepped off of a
West Village curb into his vintage white checkered cab, I couldn’t stop
thinking about what this weird adventure was all about and if it could possibly
live up to the reviews.
When I first
showed Carly the YouTube video of Dave driving through the streets of Brooklyn handing
a brown paper bag full of fresh mozzarella to his passengers in the back seat
of his cab, even my “go-for-it-girl” Carly was skeptical. “I don’t know Mom, this one may be a bit too
out-there even for me!”
“Don’t worry
little one. I promise there’ll be time for
Central Park, The Russian Tea Room and window shopping at Tiffany’s.” So, in a leap of culinary faith, I emailed Dave and booked our “ride.” A week later, straight off the red-eye out of
SFO, we were hopping into his cab to be whisked off across the Brooklyn Bridge
for a four hour, hands-on immersion course on native New York culture…one bite
at a time.
After playing roshambo for shotgun position with our cab mates (two sisters from Scotland), Dave commenced our initiation by handing each of us a pristine little package of white folded paper. As he pulled out into traffic, Dave told us that we would need a little sustenance while we made our way across the bridge. “It’s dry peppered Sopressata...a kind of salami,” he said. “I just grabbed it from my butcher…I hope you like it.” As we unfolded the stiff waxed paper, a peppery, garlicky aroma filled the cab (in a good way) and we snacked on our little mobile antipasto as we wove our way into Brooklyn.
“That’s the
actual firehouse from the original Ghostbusters movie. That’s the Staten Island
Ferry. Did you know that the guy who designed this bridge died from the bends building
it? Hey guys, just to let you know, if we hit over 40 mph on the bridge we’ll
have to roll up the windows cause the headliner will rattle off the cab ceiling
and fall on your heads.”
From Manhattan,
across the bridge, through the seedy streets of Brooklyn to its chic, gentrified
brownstones, Dave shared juicy facts about each neighborhood and its people in
a non-stop diatribe, each series of stories punctuated by a mouthful of local
foodie flavor.
“Guys, hold on a second. I’ve just gotta pull
over here and run in…wait in the car.” Sixty seconds later, Dave emerged from a
little non-descript storefront, hopped back in the cab and handed me a tiny bag
containing four little cookies to dole out to the troops. “They’re pignoli
cookies. Ever hear of ‘em? This guy I
drove in my cab told me about them years ago and they really are the best.”
Once again…OMG! Soft, chewy, sweet, nutty…we munched, and we drove on as Dave told us about the history and evolution of the Italian neighborhood. Did I mention that Dave has a History degree from NYU and a Masters from Columbia?
Once again…OMG! Soft, chewy, sweet, nutty…we munched, and we drove on as Dave told us about the history and evolution of the Italian neighborhood. Did I mention that Dave has a History degree from NYU and a Masters from Columbia?
Homemade
pastrami and pickles at Frank and Lloyds, a roast beef-topped cheeseburger at
Brennan’s, the best pizza we’ve ever tasted at Spumoni Gardens…
”You guys OK?” Dave checked in between stories of modern Jewish sects and the Russian mob circa 1980. We all grimaced and moaned as we plopped back into the cab.
”You guys OK?” Dave checked in between stories of modern Jewish sects and the Russian mob circa 1980. We all grimaced and moaned as we plopped back into the cab.
“We have
time for one more stop!” Silence…
After 3 ½ hours
of game-on grubbing we all were in desperate need for a time out, but we knew
that we would regret missing out on even one of Dave’s gems...so we voted to forge on.
Sensing our dilemma,
Dave assured us that the ten minute drive to our last stop was all we would
need recharge and, you know what, by the time he called in our order of
blueberry blintzes and we double parked outside of that Polish deli, we were
rarin’ to go. That, my friends, is what proper training is all about!
“So, I think
it would be cool for you guys to enjoy these while they’re piping hot,” Dave
said as he placed the to-go container in my hands and hopped back behind the
wheel, “and one of the best views of Manhattan just happens to be right at the
end of this street. I’ll sit here with the cab and you girls can walk out on
the promenade, eat your blintzes and enjoy the view.”
So, we
grabbed our Styrofoam box, walked the few short steps to the waterfront,
plopped our ample booties on a bench and took a deep breath. As I popped open the lid to reveal
two beautiful, steamy, sugar-dusted sweets, it crossed my mind that I wasn't sure what was more
impressive…the blueberry blintzes or the un-freakin’ believable view.
As I crunched
into the blintz with its light flaky shell and warm sweet cheese and fresh
blueberry filling, I kid you not, I got a little verklempt (that's Yiddish for choked with emotion). There I was, with my baby girl, communing with two
new lovely foreign friends, gazing across the water at the Statue of Liberty, all while
enjoying local food lovingly prepared by the descendants of
those who immigrated to that very island just in view. That my friends, is
a" moment"…one I touched, smelled, saw, heard…and tasted, and one I will never
forget.
Thanks Dave, for creating this memory for us and, whether you knew it or not, for kicking off a new era of grown-up mother-daughter adventures that we plan to share for many, many years to come.
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