Smorgasburg virgins

For Trish's Last Supper (or in this case, Last Brunch) before getting Snatched, we decided to pop our Smorgasburg cherries and meet the Westfield, NJ contingent in über hip Williamsburg for a bacchanalian day of excess. Here's how the day progressed in pictures!

After a fairly painless subway ride, including a transfer to the dreaded L train, Trish and I emerged in NYC's hippest borough, Brooklyn. We strolled toward the waterfront, throwing death stares at the cute brownstones and chic apartment buildings reserved for goatee sporting, skinny-jean wearing, gluten-free, pretty people.

We arrived about 20 minutes before 11am - just enough time to cruise the vendors (many still setting up) and plan the day's caloric intake. The Guerrero-Cook crews were still stuck in cars somewhere in NY traffic, so we grabbed a bacon pretzel from the bitchy gal manning the Bronx Baking Co.'s tent and started our first round of munching. Since the pretzel was so delicious, we decided not to let that bitch's attitude dampen our enthusiasm or appetite.

Grilled maple bacon stick anyone? We made it about halfway around the ring of food tents before giving in to a gooey, sweet slab of pork belly from Landhaus. 

You can never have too much pork belly, right? (Someone needs to cross-stitch that on a pillow) Next stop, Bite Size Kitchen for crispy pork belly and braised duck leg buns. From behind, we overheard two pretentious, twenty-something gals straight out of Girls, snootily turn their noses up at these buns because, "Oh, we make those at home." From the look of their manicured hands and expensive-though-made-to-look-vintage clothing, there is no way those girls have made homemade anything, ever.

Having completed our initial exploratory loop, it was time to cleanse our palates with dessert. We ended up sharing a fluffy, yeast-raised, dulce de leche and almond doughnut from Dough. These little diabetes bombs give Doughnut Plant a run for their money. Heresy, I know.

An hour later and the Jersey crew still hadn't arrived.  So we grabbed a fried chicken and bacon biscuit (somewhat disappointing following all our decadent pork belly treats) and relaxed at a picnic table overlooking the Manhattan skyline. Up until now, we had been taunting our car-bound friends by texting them these pictures as we cruelly described each scrumptious bite.

I'm usually not one to shy away from excessive bitchiness, but even I started to feel guilty as the time passed and our companions continued to sit in food-free torment on the highway. So after this picture, we decided on a food porn moratorium until after their arrival.

Just passed our table, Trish spied a long line forming by one tent. Without even checking out the offerings, we got in line. Whatever is under that blue tent better be worth the wait or this bitch may just cut you.

With the line barely moving, Trish went on reconnaissance to make sure we weren't wasting our time. Ramen burgers! Score. But it was now close to noon and there was a noticeable increase in foot traffic. We decided to split up. Trish made a beeline for Might Quinn's where another long line was forming. She hooked us up with some pork BBQ and brisket sandwiches.

After about 20 minutes, I finally made it to the front of the line and purchased my $9 (!!) burger. Sadly, the product didn't live up to the hype. I mean, it's a burger wedged between two slabs of greasy ramen noodles. Didn't taste bad per se, but really nothing special. We ended up taking a few bites and tossing the rest. No use wasting precious stomach space.

The Philippines is representin' in Brooklyn. Though I'm sure they are delicious, we didn't try their lumpia because we were suspicious of the pretty plating and garnishing. We're used to seeing those little critters piled up haphazardly in a foil tray, ghetto style.

The Guerreros, Cooks and Nadeaus finally arrived and we spent the rest of the afternoon taking turns guarding our picnic table and hording food.

The End

First World Food Problems - To Take-Out or Not To Take-Out

NYC-ers don't cook in their kitchens.

As a typical New Yorker, I'm used to ordering out for every meal.  My stove is basically a fancy metal closet for my non-seasonal clothing.  But no more.  Since I've been Snatched-ing it's seen more action  than Pamela Anderson's vagina.

If I'm not cooking up a batch of brown rice for the week, then I'm likely roasting some veggies or hard boiling eggs.  Unfortunately, all this culinary activity has left my poor sweaters homeless, forced to squat on the narrow strip of floor surrounding my bed.

The kitchen sink, once sparkling from disuse, is now a continually shifting skyline of crusty pots, pans and Ziploc containers balancing precariously over discarded avocado rinds and carrot peels.  Sure, it sucks to be in a constant state of dish-washing, but the positive effect on my bank account (and waist line) make it almost - almost - worth the pruned fingers.

Still, it's been a serious challenge following my Snatched nutrition plan and hitting my calorie and protein goals.  Who'd have guessed it would be so difficult to cram down 2200 healthy calories?

I'm a spoiled New Yorker when it comes to dining options.  Why bother cooking when there's every type of ethnic food just a phone call and delivery boy away?  But now that I'm counting every calorie and gram, take-out has suddenly become the devil.

It doesn't help that my previously tame OCD tendencies have blossomed into full out crazy now that I've hit my mid-40s.  The thought of ordering Chinese food while on my Snatched plan literally sends me into a panic.  I picture myself huddled over that white take-out container with a pair of tweezers, separating and meticulously weighing out each ingredient on my shiny new digital food scale, wondering if I should pat down the steamed chicken to get rid of the extra water weight, and then tossing everything back together to make sure I have an accurate calorie count.  I know, sick, huh?

Anyway, It's now the end of week 3 (of 6).  Thanks to my high daily calorie goals I'm rarely hungry, unlike some of my fellow Ninjas (that's how clients are referred to at MFF) who seem to be starving all the time.  But I'm also bloated and gassy as hell thanks to all those damn veggies.  I've learned to quietly and stealthily release while sitting in the subway and then immediately turn to the person next to me with my just-sucked-on-a-lemon face as if to say, "Did you do that?" thereby deflecting blame away from me.  I'm not proud of it.

The workouts have also gotten progressively more difficult each week.  Exhaustion is my new normal.  I'm resigned to the fact that my muscles will perpetually remain in ache mode.  At least the trainers have the decency to wear tight, skimpy clothing.  So even while I'm heaving for breath and just about to vomit up the protein shake I just guzzled an hour earlier, I'm also ogling their tight asses and muscular thighs and drooling like a cougar at a frat party.

On the bright side, my clothes are beginning to loosen up and I no longer have to do the "suck in" to button up my work pants.  And although my weight loss has plateaued over the last few weeks, I still see major shifts in my body shape.  The man boobs are starting to deflate and my flat ass is starting to get some J-Lo curve.  So I'm sticking to the plan and getting through the next 3 weeks by visualizing the plate of stuffing and gravy I'll be sucking down come Thanksgiving Day as my reward for finishing my Snatched journey.

Sweating with the Stars but Puking by Myself

If you read my earlier post, you know that I'm elbow deep in the midst of a full body makeover via Mark Fisher Fitness.  I know some of you could care less about my fitness life, so to keep slightly on topic, my Snatched in Six Weeks group includes none other than Lin-Manuel Miranda, Tonya Pinkins & an old colleague of mine from back in my NYGASP days, Heather Hill (who just happens to be in the current Broadway company of Phantom).

Yup, I'm glute bridging with Tony winners, bitches.

It's difficult to describe MFF and the Snatched program because it's just so...well, not like any gym I've ever worked out in before.  And trust me, after criss-crossing the country for years on one-nighter bus-and-truck tours, I've hit just about every grungy gym and cruisy YMCA between here and Yakima.  Yeah, that's a real city and sadly I've performed there TWICE!

But to quote an article from the Huffington Post, the MFF workout is "...a combination of theater camp and marine basic training..."  And if you've never been to theatre camp, well, let's just say there's lots of gay dudes, top hats and nudity involved.  Oh, and show tunes.  So yeah, it's not for everyone.  Example: at a recent Ninja Essentials class I attended (they refer to all us members as "ninjas") the trainer - probably the only straight guy in the room - asked us who was going to watch the football game over the weekend.  Crickets.  Then the guy next to me shyly spoke up, "I think you're talking to the wrong group."

I've just finished up week two of my six-week Snatched program.  And yes, my pants are a little looser and my neck is a little less stumpy, but the past two weeks haven't passed without a few challenges, mainly in regards to diet.  Actually, "diet" is probably the wrong word for the nutrition program I'm following since "diet" usually conjures up the image of a big, empty plate of sad carrot sticks huddling together for warmth.  

With five intense workouts a week, the MFF team asked me to consume a whopping 2600 calories a day.  I know for most people (and me before I started Snatched) quantifying calories is like watching those annoying guys who break dance on the subway for money - you ignore them and just hope they go away.  But let me put a greasy face on that number for you: 2600 calories = 5 Big Macs.  And a banana.  Sadly, Big Macs aren't recommended on the Snatched program.

After about a week and half of literally gorging myself to near-puking levels, I finally spoke up and asked the nutritionist if we could perhaps dial that calorie count down just a notch.  So I'm still grazing all day like ol' Bessie out in the field, but I now have a more realistic goal of 2200 calories a day.  

A typical day of eating looks like this:

Breakfast - banana w/ peanut butter, 2 whole hard-boiled eggs, cup of Greek yogurt w/ fruit and sunflower seeds
Lunch - large bowl of turkey chili, roasted brussel sprouts and brown rice
Dinner - grilled chicken and asparagus w/tomato salsa
Snacks - protein shake w/ almond milk, a couple slices of beef jerky, some mixed nuts, a protein bar and an apple

I'm obviously not starving.  And after two weeks, I'm 10 pounds lighter.  Only four more weeks to go!