I’m not a pizza lover even though I know loving pizza is as trendy as loving Lebron James or Kanye. And especially New York pizza, which to me is far too sloppy, cheesy, gooey — everything someone wants in a slice of za.
But Posto is a pizza joint I miss so, so much now that I’m back in Toronto.
There was this one time in the office, when I was interning in SoHo, that Shannon and I planned on going for lunch. We were office brats, eager to go out for a walk and get some fresh air. (The day before she dragged me onto the blocked off street to catch a glimpse of Zach Efron filming his new movie.)
She talked about moving into the city, and I vented my visa woes.
For two people that only met for less than a few weeks, we had become really good friends already. On our work emails, we’d send each other funny LOL gchats and smirk across the office. You know, work gal pal stuff. (Hi Shannon, if you’re reading!)
It was nearing Shannon’s last day and we decided we’d explore the east side of Nolita more. We ended up at Ruby’s.
Nom Wah is hidden in the nooks and crannies of New York’s Chinatown. Even after walking through these allies in daylight several times, I still get lost and rely on extra time to get me there. They boast to be Chinatown’s first dim sum parlour, opening in the 1920s.
There’s nothing more comforting than congee, scalding in temperature, for when you’re feeling sick. Cantonese congee is boiled for such a long period of time that each millet of rice has melted into a porridge state. The balance of the rice’s earthiness and salt is delicious and goes down just right, even if it’s pipping hot and making you wince.
If I couldn’t afford to eat at Balthazar’s, at least I could get a drink from their to-go shack, I thought to myself. Although shack isn’t quite the appropriate diction to describe a place like Balthazar. To preface this place, this famous SoHo French patisserie serves up a small raspberry chocolate tart at $6.50.
On Instagram, a stranger raved about Balthazar’s ginger citrus tea and it stuck with me. I doubt a tea can go beyond $5 and decide to get one.
On my trip to LA, there were a handful of places I had FourSquared and Yelped. Like any trendy New York cafe, I needed to try Urth Caffe. (I believe I read on the menu that things were organic and locally sourced.)
I wonder if there’s really a group of “us”? (No pun intended on the title, of course.)
I came across a bunch of blogs and websites for “life after new york”. Aside from the Thought Catalogue pieces written by 20-somethings that already are smitten by this city, the nostalgic trap of leaving New York City is a thing. It’s a very real thing that people flock together in groups together to lament. They write blogs and make lists of what they miss about New York. They post pictures of the street they used to live on and the most of them are in possession of an Instagram photo of the Manhattan night line from the Brooklyn side.
By group of “us”, I don’t strictly mean transplants. I mean international students that have been cloaked in the good and bad of New York and have just started to feel like a New Yorker, whatever that means.
I sent a few of those blogs to my friend Aby and he replied, “Yikes, there’s a group of US?” But I’d like to be a different group from that group. I don’t want to return home/be deported home with a New York crown. Living in this city doesn’t make me better than anyone else, but it sure puts you on your A-game all day every day. I will depart with joy and gratitude — because they are choices I can make