B is for Broke, with a capital B, and that rhymes with P, and that stand for Pudgy bellies.

Hi. I'm KP. I am B. ro. ke.

Let’s be honest, though, it wouldn’t have been a summer-of-a-lifetime if I didn’t end up broke. The funny thing is - I barely bought anything. No presents – for others or myself (well, maybe a few tiny things here and there), but for the most part, no gifts. The majority of my money went toward food. Though I should probably be embarrassed by that, I’m not. I wined and dinned like a queen during my three months in NYC. So I would like to have something to show (other than my pudgy belly) for my money spent.

A Sweet Treat: The all-inclusive KP Restaurant Review

(which took me 10 weeks, and hundreds of dollars, to thoroughly complete)

Marakeseum – Traditional Ethiopian food just south of Washington Park. You eat pureed veggies that sort of resemble baby food with your hands. It’s a riot and should be done family style, with everyone reaching their hands across everyone else to soak up the smashed goodness.

Buddakahn – The place to see and be seen. A true celeb hot spot. Though the food is pricey, the décor is something not to be missed and the food is flavorful. It’s known for its Asian-fusion food, but also turns into a lounge at night, so the drinks are tasty too.

Fig & Olive – In the heart of the Meatpacking District, I consumed some of the best scallops I have ever eaten. As its name suggests, the restaurant specializes in olive oils, so before the meal, you get to try oil from California, Italy and Spain. Italy tasted like the regular olive oil your parents use in everyday cooking. California actually tasted like how you would imagine the state should taste if you could eat it – summery and light with a slight fog. Spain was a tad salty, but for obvious reasons, I favored it. This dinner took my friends Jessica, Dana and I two hours, but we had some good conversations.

Jing Fongs & Vanessa’s Dumplings – I dragged Irena and Jessica to Jing Fong’s with me because I was desperately seeking authentic Chinese dim sum. Sorry to report, but this place was a flop. They didn’t have the charts racing around with choices of steamed buns and such. The menu was totally in Japanese and the few dumplings we did order left something to be desired (probably because we were too worried we were eating dog or cat since the language barrier was just too hard to break). We left, leaving many of the dumplings behind. But I, determined to find some good dumplings, decided to try Vanessa’s, which came to me on recommendation from some random guy in a bar. For $2, I got a plate of 6 steamed dumplings filled with veggies and chicken. So yummy. Mission accomplished.

Di Fara’s – Killer pizza in Brooklyn. Totally worth every bite.

Elephant and Castle – A tasty brunch joint in the West Village. I thoroughly enjoyed my goat cheese and spinach egg white omelet. It’s a cute, quaint place that is reminiscent of someone’s home, which makes it the ideal locale for catching up with old friends.

Haru – Another trendy place, specializing in sushi. I would say you probably go for the atmosphere and the convenience (it was one block away from my apartment). The fish is fresh, but it’s so expensive for such small rolls that you almost feel guilty spending your mullah.

Bam – A true, honest-to-goodness automat. Like what you see on TV. Supposedly they’re all the rage in China and Japan and such. You put in your money, push a button and out comes a hot dog or a hamburger or chicken fingers. It really baffled my mind. But, hey, they say this is the food of the future and the place looked damn cool!

16 Handles – Great ice-cream by the ounce. A truly innovative concept place in which you mix whatever flavors of the soft serve you want and then top it with whatever toppings you want. Then, you pay by how much the whole thing weighs. It makes already fun ice-cream that much more fun.

Pinkberry – The city’s famous Fro-Yo place. It serves tart yogurt topped with fresh fruit or granola. My favorite was the coffee flavor with strawberries and bananas. My only complaint is that it seems a bit expensive for yogurt and fruit, ringing in at a little over $6 for a small.

Cafetasia – My absolute favorite cheap Thai restaurant in the city. If I wasn’t going there, I was ordering in. The tables in the restaurant are cafeteria-style, meaning you sit next to a total stranger. While the food is cheap (by New York City standards anyway) the atmosphere is not compromising. The lights hang low and the bathroom is co-ed. Plus, you essentially pee in the dark because if you turn the lights up (as I did), the waiter comes in to turn them off again. Strange...but fun. Only in NY, right? As for the delivery, one night I called in at 7:29 p.m. and the food was literally at my door at 7:38 p.m. Though it seemed almost impossible (and I am still confused by it), everything in the city is ridiculously fast, so I didn’t think twice about it. Don’t ask, don’t tell right?

Jamaican street vendor on the corner of 7^th and 51^st – Quick and affordable. Such scrumptious curried chicken. I always skipped the rice and got extra salad. The whole lunch cost me $4. And I had my food in less than a minute. Talk about a new spin on fast food.

S’Mac – A small hole-in-the-wall specializing in only macaroni and cheese. Because of the high calorie content, it was pretty hard to find someone to go with me, so I waited until everyone left and treated myself. Though they have every choice of mac and cheese you could ever imagine (including mac with hamburger, sausage, goat cheese, veggies and bread crumbs), I stuck with the all-American cheddar kind in the smallest size possible. It came out in a sizzling metal skillet with a crispy, baked top. Mmm, mmm good.

Levain’s Bakery – This place was featured on Food Network. Apparently, the owners began this cookie shop because they wanted to carb-load before running marathons. Each cookie they sell weighs ½ a pound (and probably makes you gain 10), but it totally worth it. Jess, Rachel and I essentially did their whole concept….but backward. After we ran/walked the 5-mile race in Central Park, we then chowed down on our cookies (so much for carb-loading BEFORE the race). We split all four types of cookies they sell, digging into each with our fingers and not caring that chocolate and oatmeal and peanut butter were smearing all over our faces.

Gobo: Food for the Five Senses – A vegetarian restaurant. But what they lack in meat, they make up for in flavor and color. A true foodie’s heaven. I enjoyed the veggie cobb salad with brown rice, lentils, beans, fruit, nuts and other deliciousness. Jess and I would dine here just to make ourselves feel good that we were providing our bodies with filling, yet organic meals, while getting our daily in-take of fruits and veggies. And we’d talk about how healthy we were being the entire meal.

And scene. Enough of the food review before I get hungry.

The food itself is only half of it, though. It is my philosophy that a delicious meal must be shared with great company in a pleasurable atmosphere in order to be an all-around remarkable dining experience. Sitting in the airport and going through some of my fondest memories of dinners and lunches and brunches and midnight snacks, I can’t help but relive all the memories. A girl should only be as lucky as I am to have had hundreds of splendid meals with even better friends and conversations...even if she only has a pudgy belly and empty pockets to show for it.

Di Fara's

Though I do admit I enjoyed my five-day stay in the foreign city, Washington, D.C., where the Metro stops at midnight and the street are freakishly clean, my heart couldn’t help but beg, “Take me back to Manhattan,” so I took the Acela Express back to my fantasy island. Home, sweet home, at last.

One of my closest friends, Jess, missed me probably as much as I missed her, so to celebrate my homecoming (and her sister’s stay at our apartment), we went into Brooklyn for “NYC’s best pizza” – as rated by Zagat’s and New York Time Out.

The place: Di Fara’s.
The locale: A small, smoky pizza parlor with only two people working – the cook and the person taking orders.
The cost: Between $20 and $30 a pie….and they take cash only. Quite an operation, if you ask me.
The patrons: At least 20 people gathering around to order pies.
The history: Apparently, the owner (aka the sole cook at the place), who is easily more than 60 years old, has been operating his business since the 1960’s and refuses to let any one else make pizzas because he has to touch every single one to make sure it has his stamp of approval.
The result: Amazingly delectable, thin crust pizza made with only fresh ingredients (fresh basil, fresh olive oil, fresh mozzarella and fresh veggies). But because the owner/chef is older, to put it nicely, you end up waiting an hour and a half for your food.

Was it worth it, you ask? Well despite having to wear our sunglasses at night and in the restaurant because the smoke from the older-than-old pizza oven was burning our eyes (Purple Haze should be rewritten as Pizza Haze) and despite the long wait, the pizza was better than we imagined. After one slice each, we were stuffed to capacity and got a box so we could take the rest of our pie to go.

One pizza box and twenty minutes later, the three of us girls decided to get in our exercise and walk from Brooklyn back to Manhattan – Brooklyn Bridge style. We crossed the mile-long bridge and ogled at the NYC skyline that resembled Lite-Brite. We snacked on our cold pizza. And we even got a glimpse at the “hidden” waterfalls coming from the bridges.

So while you may say that age-old monuments and clean streets are so much better and more historical than a bridge with water falling from it and pizza that takes nearly two hours to get, I would respectfully beg to differ. D.C. has nothing on my NYC – my dear, old, dirty town. The country's capital won't become my capital any time soon.

Chocolatey foodie adventures in the city

New York City is a very peculiar town. Never in my life have I seen men dress better than women, a glass of wine for $2 on one street and $20 on the next and people dress up as mermaids to frolic in the streets. Nonetheless, I fell in love with it.

My best friends, Rach and Jess, and I met up with the Rachel's family for breakfast. But not just any breakfast. Norma’s breakfast – which specializes in packing at least 10 pounds to your thighs, hips and ass before 11 a.m. Now normally I would complain about these unwanted calories, but Norma’s had a “sweet” way of enticing us. It’s one of those, you know, dessert-for breakfast, you’re-never-gonna-eat-anything-this-good-ever-again kinda places. Yeah. That was this. But this was WAY better. So I splurged on the PB&C Waffle. That’s peanut butter and chocolate in and on a waffle for those of you not in-the-know. And it was sinful. The best sin I have ever tasted. The only thing that I am disappointed about, now that I have come to the realization, is that I will never eat anything as good ever again. What a shame. Not even through a quarter of my life and I have already had my best meal.

The following day, the three of us window-shopped in the Upper West Side and made our way to Levain Bakery - isn’t it awful that more often than not the highlight of my day includes fattening food? But this wasn’t an average bakery. The little cookie haven was featured on the Food Network – specifically on “Throwdown with Bobby Flay”. Each cookie is half a pound. And it gave Norma’s a run for its money, which is an awfully difficult task.

The three of us shared the signature four cookies – chocolate chip walnut, dark chocolate chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin and dark chocolate peanut butter chip. So while the bakers were rolling out the dough, we practically rolled ourselves out the door.

After tons more walking around to lose some of the cookie calories, Jess and I decided we were in the mood for Thai food for dinner. I had asked a random man I met at a sushi bar about what one place in the city I shouldn’t miss eating at, and he told me about a place in Brooklyn called Sea. Though Brooklyn isn’t Jess and my's favorite place to be, we were craving great Thai.

Sea was on a chic street and had the most amazing atmosphere – low tables, wooden benches hanging from medal chains attached to the ceiling and Plexiglas bubble chairs also hanging from the ceiling . The pad thai was cheap and delicious – just the way I like.

And best of all, the people there were just cool. Artsy and cool. So cool, in fact, that you would think they were un-cool, but they were not. They, in their high-waisted pants, vests, scarves, vintage and the like, were ahead of the trend. So ahead that they all looked almost out of place and quirky. Good food and cool company scored this Thai joint an A++ in my book.

Solo eating - not so awful after all

Funny thing about New York City (which, as far as I am concerned, is all about love and couples) is that people seem perfectly content being alone.

Take my favorite petite French Bistro, Le Pain Quotidien – which serves the most outstanding organic wheat bread at communal tables.

Jess and I opted to sit side-by-side at a long, wooden communal table in the center of the restaurant. After walking for 3 hours through the museum, tartines, or open-faced sandwiches, were just what we were looking for. Not able to chose just one plate, Jess and I decided to share. I ordered the chicken curry salad tartine with side of harissa-cranberry chutney. Jess chose the ricotta tartine with mission figs, black pepper & organic acacia honey. Between the two dishes, we were stuffed and pleasantly satisfied.

While we giggled over stories from the night before as we ate, we looked around us and realized that we were being boisterous. Though we were only whispering, practically no one else was talking. It was then that we realized that most people were eating alone – an undertaking (more like a chore) that Jess and I would never regularly fathom.

Across from us: A European man who cut his sandwich with a knife and fork and then proceeded to eat it with a fork; a totally distraught woman blabbing to the waitress a-mile-a-minute about her life; a beautiful, blonde hopeful (talk about a Rembrandt) eating a muffin and tartine while finishing today’s crossword.

Though we were dumbfounded, we both conceded to the fact that if the food tastes that delicious, it's totally worth eating alone.

NYC is just like traveling the world

Who needs to travel the world when you can just go to New York City? If America is the melting pot of the world, the city is center of the pot closest to the burner – and I mean that in the nicest sense of the term, honestly. Because the various people here are so proud of their heritage, they all seem to have the same idea - create a restaurant to make their home away from home a bit homier.

Saturday night, I somehow managed to drag Cris and Jess to an Ethiopian restaurant, Marakeseum, in the West Village. In traditional Ethiopian style, we dipped the spongy, sourdough-like crepes into pureed veggies and meat on a platter that the three of us shared. No personal plates and no utensils. We went back to our basic instincts of eating with our hands and reaching over one another to gobble up the lentils, chic peas and cabbage that all looked like different types of hummus. The three of us agreed it was delicious, and the vegetables had enough flavor to make us contemplate becoming vegetarian. That inkling quickly faded Sunday night when we headed into Little Italy for some authentic Italian.

It smelled like home cooking. Like the familiar smell of walking into a friend or relative’s house for a dinner they have been preparing for hours. With more than 20 different homemade pasta dishes on the menu (al dante style, I may add) and enough sauce choices to make you gain 15lbs. just from reading them, the trattoria was any pasta lover’s dream. And I couldn’t help but make a fuss over the best sweet, aged balsamic vinegar I’ve ever had.

I guess you could say two days ago, I was in Ethiopia, and yesterday, I was in Italy…without a visa and without the immunization. I am pretty much eating my way through the Big Apple…and the rest of the world. Not too shabby.

So when Jess and I were window-shopping in SoHo on Saturday and we found a truffle bar and tea salon, we couldn’t help but stop in. What is a truffle bar? Better yet, what the hell is a tea salon? Only in New York City, I tell ya. And the chocolate truffles were just as diverse as the people in the city.

Our particular truffle bar, Vosges, specialized in infusing its chocolate with exotic spices from around the world. Confused? We were too…so let me give you a taste. The first chocolate truffle is blended with curry powder and Indian spices. The second one is mixed with macadamia nuts to remind its consumers of Australia. The third, with a hint of green absinthe, is reminiscent of China. The fourth mixes Taleggio cheese and walnuts into the chocolate to suggest Italy. The fifth is infused with purple orchids (my favorite flower) and caramelized bananas to round out the bunch (and my tummy).

I have decided that NYC is perhaps the only place in the world where people make chocolate not taste like chocolate. I’ve heard it said that people in the city are all artists in some form or venue, whether they are performing or writing or painting on the street. I just never expected to see someone use chocolate as a medium to tell stories of worldly travels.

The tea salon (which, for the life of me, I cannot remember the name of!) provided cold treats. Mid-afternoon, I savored a light, guava iced tea, and Jess drank iced chocolate. No, I didn’t mean hot chocolate. I really did mean iced chocolate. Like slurping a liquid, milk chocolate candy bar. Sheer bliss.

The bald man does chocolate right

By the time my day is done, I am usually sleepy until I remind myself that I’m in New York, and I can’t miss out. (Come on KP, don’t be lame!)

Because my roommates and I are all so busy during the day, the only real time we get to play is in the evenings. Though we enjoy hitting up some of the nightlife, most of the clubs stay open until ridiculously late hours here (unlike in Gainesville where “last call” is at 2 a.m.). As a result, we quickly learned that sometimes it’s best to save the wild nights for the weekends…when we don’t have to go anywhere super early the next morning. Still, we all need a little salvation every once in a while.

That’s why last night, Jess, Cristina and I decided to treat ourselves to a little late night sweet at Max Brenner Chocolate by the Bald Man. It probably doesn't help that it's within a two-minute walk from our Union Square apartment.

A chic chocolate bar inspired by the one and only Willy Wonka, Max Brenner is right up this chocolate lover's alley. Its menu features chocolate martinis, chocolate pizza, chocolate truffles, chocolate ice cream, hot chocolate, s’mores and its famous chocolate fondue. Can you say paradise or what? My mouth salivated the moment I walked in the door.

We three musketeer-ettes shared the fondue, the chocolate and banana pizza and a sampler platter while chatting and catching up until the bistro turned up the dimmed lights and started locking the doors. It was a fun – and fattening – way for us to get out of the apartment.

Hard to escape Japanese food in NYC

It’s a small world after all.

New York City. Population: about 1.2 million. Essentially, that makes me 1 in a million. And I’m running around this madhouse of a town like a chicken without a head. So how is it possible that I keep running into people I know? It’s become the norm that I bump into someone I know at least once a day. I actually find myself thinking that it is strange if I don’t. In the subway, right as the doors open to the yellow R line headed downtown- a friend from college. On the street during my dinner break - a friend from high school. And in the park – a woman my close friend Jess and I became friendly with when we were shopping on Saturday.
Apparently one in a million isn’t such a big deal. What a let down.

Hoping to escape it all, Jess and I were looking for a simple dinner. All we wanted to do is avoid Asian food because it seems that’s all we’d eat in this town. Not too much to ask for right? Wrong.

“Too expensive,” “I’m not in the mood,” “It looks bad,” “Eh, look who’s eating inside,” and “It’s closed,” all kept us from chowing down. We were looking for champagne taste at a beer’s budget. Between all of our squabbling back and forth, somehow we ended up blocks away from our flat and hungry. Jess, being a good sport, agreed to check out some hole-in-the-wall eatery that, of course, I believed sounded wonderful – “a real cultural experience.” Turns out that all our negative Nancy-isms, except for “it’s closed,” accumulated in this restaurant… after we are seated.

The food wasn’t cheap. And what do you know - it’s Asian; actually, it’s Japanese. But not just Japanese (oh no do not say that or else the waiter will laugh in your face) it’s a noodle bar. The menu is totally in Japanese and, when we look around us, we realize we are the only Americans in the entire restaurant. If I didn’t know any better, I would have bet that Jess and I had hopped on a flight to Japan and were preparing to eat our first meal there. Feeling ignorant, we asked the waiter to order for us. He brought out bowls as big as our heads filled with soup, noodles, veggies and some sort of meat (probably chicken gizzard, I kid you not). Well, I am happy to report that the food was actually pretty tasty, lasted me two meals and didn’t make me sick. But I still don’t really know what I ate.

So it turns out that I am adventurous by steering Jess and myself to a random, local place that serves fish eyeballs as a delicacy. Nice one KP. And all I know now is that I am still going to have to try ridiculously hard to not eat Asian in this city. Oh, excuse me, Japanese, which is what I attempted to avoid in the first place. Back to square one.

On our way back home, Jess and I stopped in a tiny ice-cream shop in the East Village because we both agreed we deserved a treat for putting up with dinner. Because some higher being was truly having fun with us, it turns out the sundae shop we enter is a Japanese ice-cream shop (what can I say - when it rains, it pours!) that sells sesame, red bean, ginger and wasabi ice-cream. We were done being adventurous. We settled for reasonably normal flavors (I get the Mocha Chip, and Jess gets the Maple Walnut) in the smallest size they sell. We were nearly sick after the gargantuan bowls of Ramen and the little sweet treat was enough to curb the craving just in the nick of time.

Restaurants on a whim

When my roommate Jess and I woke up this morning, we were aching for brunch, so I found a quaint restaurant with a name as unique as its food selection – Elephant & Castle. I sipped on iced coffee while savoring my egg white omelet with goat cheese, fresh tomato and basil. It was well-done just like I like, and the strong coffee woke me up.

Then, Jess and I wandered.

But not all who wander are lost. You see, that’s the great thing about life. You don’t have to know where you are going to get there. And Jess and I had no idea where we were going today. No particular destination. No plans. No time constraint. So we wandered.

We wandered past Jefferson Market Garden and Jackson Square, along streets that house million-dollar town homes with colorful doors and fresh flowers, and into vintage stores, including my newfound favorite, Zachary’s Smile…and let me tell you, his smile would make you smile. The vintage store sells clothing from the early 1900’s and each article of clothing is more exquisite than the next.

It was then that our travels brought us to Tea and Symphathy. Feeling classy, we sipped on tea at 3 p.m. in this charming English tea room that only has room for 20 people at a time. With a beautiful porcelain tea pot of green tea all to myself, I couldn’t help but indulge in a warm scone with homemade strawberry jam.

Because the tea shop is so small, it has a "wait-outside" policy. To me, its one-in-one-out policy was a tad annoying, but the flaky scones made the wait worth it. And I didn't even mind turning off my cell phone, as a sign on the front door suggested, so that the other patrons wouldn't be disturbed.

Sometimes the best places to grab a quick snack are best found when wandering.

KP in the City is more like KP in Foodie Heaven

Somebody pinch me.

No really…pinch me. I am sitting at my desk in my chic flat for four - well I don’t know that you’d call “old and rusty” chic, but it’s certainly feeling fabulous.

Just to set the mood, I am overlooking Union Square in New York City and peering into about 20 other apartments whose tenants seem to have forgotten to shut their shades to keep my wandering eyes from escaping my 8th floor milieu. It doesn’t get better than this. OK, maybe if I were eating a chocolate-covered apple it’d be better. But I am eating left over pad thai and I’m hoping that you’ll keep me company.

My secret desire to be a restaurant critic can really flourish in this city. If there is one thing there is not a shortage of in Manhattan, it’s food. Every other door is an entrance to a restaurant. I have indulged in sushi at a chic, upscale sushi joint, Thai food at a cafeteria-style Asian-Fusion restaurant called Cafetasia, a pound-worth of salad at my beloved Whole Foods, a hole-in-the-wall sandwich and salad eatery right under my flat, Toasties, “sinless” ice-cream and yogurt at the praised Tasti D Lite and Pinkberry and, of course, famous New York bagels. I even found a chocolate-covered apple from a vender at a farmer’s market on the street. Pinch me please. This is all too good to be true.

Yep…It’s official. I am in heaven. And, actually, do me a favor - don’t pinch me too hard because I’m not ready to snap back to reality any time soon.