When I got home last night and felt like sleepily railing against the Guido douchebag I saw on the train, I neglected to mention that I had eaten delicious food.
Brother Jimmy's is a BBQ restaurant that focuses largely on the pork and vinegar stylings of the Carolinas. There are a few locations but last night I ate at the branch on 31st and Lex. It was, in a word... delicious.
Pulled pork served with a light vinegar and red pepper sauce, sweet potato fries (admittedly something I had never seen till I moved up north), cole slaw, and sweet tea. All executed with an authenticity which, while not perfect, is more than acceptable given it's New York. I give it five GLGGGGs out of five possible GLGGGGS.
The conversation with the father was interesting as well... Mostly light, and the very fact that he chose the BBQ joint out of the 5 or so other possible ethnic restaurants I had looked up in the area gave me some greater degree of confidence that I am, in fact, his son. It's good to have some indicator other than hair color.
That oughta do it for now. All that's left to do on the day is GRE prep, watching 30 Rock and farting all bad.
Also, does my sleeping regular hours make my blogging less interesting? I'll admit it likely reads less like the delusional ramblings of a diseased mind, but I can't help but wonder. If so, I will be quite disappointed, because this likely puts to bed either my being paid to be a writer of interesting things, or my leading a satisfied, happy life.
Sucks to that ass-mar.