The Pinedas Take Manhattan!

Okay, so not quite as exciting as when the Muppets painted the town red back in the 80’s, but hey, we’re old.  And human. 

For a last "hurrah" before the start of camp, Juan and Val decided to meet Trish and I in the city for some fun and to celebrate Juan’s 40^th birthday.  Happy Birthday, gramps!  If you’ve been a regular blog reader you can probably guess the itinerary.  That’s right, the day was based on… wait for it… eating!  Surprised?  I doubt it.

Anyway, Juan told us to meet them at Petite Abeille in Chelsea at the un-Godly hour of 10 AM.  Don’t judge, it was a Saturday.  Juan heard about the restaurant’s incredible waffles on The Travel Channel, so we decided to judge for ourselves.  Well, the waffles were alright.  And by alright I mean they are like breakfast crack.  These golden brown slices of heaven have a crisp, sweet, caramelized crust that renders syrup unnecessary.  Yum. 

The dining room is quaint and small, but the service was a bit slow considering the restaurant was half empty when we arrived.  Being the first “morning after” of Pride Weekend I’m sure most of Chelsea was just crawling into bed after a fabulous night of debauchery.  Oh well, more waffles for us.

After finishing breakfast, we naturally headed up Fifth Avenue for… wait for it… more food!  Yes, we actually walked directly from one restaurant to another.  We are sick people. 

Technically, Eataly isn’t a restaurant.  It’s a complete Italian Market selling fresh produce, meat and fish and homemade pasta, bread and desserts.  They also have six restaurants, numerous take out stands of coffee and sweets and a rooftop beer garden. 

We wandered around admiring all the freshly made goodness just long enough to work up our appetites again.  We finally settled at La Piazza, a cavernous hall filled with marble-topped tables where you stand and nosh.  We ordered a Grande Piatto Misto Salumi e Formaggi, which is Italian for “big honking cutting board full of meat and cheese” or something like that (see pics).  We chased it all down with a delightful Prosecco - except for Val who is trying to get her own bun baking in the oven.  We felt bad.  For about 30 seconds. 

Having now consumed two back-to-back meals, we naturally decided on… wait for it… dessert!  Just when you thought we couldn’t get any more disgusting, huh?  Well, in Val and Trish’s defense, only Juan and I ordered dessert.  We both had gelato Italian style, in a brioche roll instead of a bowl.  Italians really do eat bread with everything.

We waddled out of Madison Square Park toward Sixth Avenue and hit up a quintessential New York institution, the summer street fair.  I know some people hate them, but there’s something comforting about seeing the same old vendors hocking mozzarepas, cheap sunglasses and even cheaper costume jewelry.  I don’t feel summer has officially started until I’ve sucked down my first watery $1 lemonade.

With the afternoon heating up, we hightailed it to Times Square for the matinee of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.  What better way to celebrate Juan’s birthday, Gay Pride and the passage of NY’s gay marriage bill then with disco drag queens. 

This was my second trip to Priscilla and it’s definitely tightened up since Trish and I caught it in previews earlier this year.  It’s no West Side Story, but it’s got such fun music and incredibly over-the-top costumes and performances that I forgive its faults. 

Tony Sheldon is still giving a wonderfully sweet and nuanced performance.  Will Swenson has a severe case of disappearing-Australian-accent-itis, but is still likeable and sincere as Tick.  I didn’t think it was possible, but Nick Adams appears to have buffed up even more since our last viewing a few short weeks ago.  I’m sure his performance is fine, but I honestly have no idea as my attention is always drawn to his remarkably chiseled abs.  On a side note, those fertility hormones Val’s taking must be super potent, because she was in tears by the final chorus of the closing number, “We Belong,” which says a lot because my eyes were dry and I cry at Hallmark commercials. 

After our disco break, we headed to Queens for… you guessed it, more food!  I’ve mentioned the Beer Garden

(the original, not all the upscale poser joints opening up around the city like sores a whore) to Juan and Val for years so I was very excited to finally introduce them to its laidback charms.  Of course, when we arrived the place was standing room only.  We wandered around the drunken groups and a surprising amount of toddlers and baby carriages trying to find an open table.  Should you really be getting wasted at what amounts to a huge frat party while caring for an infant?  Anyway, we ended up bumping into our cousin, Merce, who moved to Manhattan about a year ago from San Francisco.  She looked surprised to see us, though I don't know why considering we live just a couple blocks away, and immediately started to nervously explain that she was just about to text us to come meet her.  Yeah, right.  Busted!  Of course, we could care less.  Hey, it’s New York, people are busy. 

We finally squeezed into a long table between a huge group of twenty-something Asians and a couple of douchey looking white boys and their girlfriend.  Then Trish and I immediately bounded into Beer Garden mode.  I headed to the bar for a pitcher and Trish headed to the barbecue for pork products.  Trish returned with a tray overflowing with brats and fries.  The douchey guys looked longingly at our assortment of artery clogging items and in a friendly beer haze, we offered them our leftovers.  Of course, once you offer someone a brat you’re friends for life.  So in the end, we ended up bonding with our formerly douchey buds.  Turns out the girl is half-Filipino and engaged to one of the white dudes, so we ended up trading crazy family stories and warning him how his life is about to become a living hell.

Tipsy and with bellies distended, we walked back to my apartment.  Our food orgy complete, we decided to drive right back to NJ since we wanted to get an early start at the theatre the next morning to set up before the first day of camp. 

I've already started the countdown to the next food-centric Pineda road trip, our annual Washington DC July Fourth weekend extravaganza!