there are more beautiful things than NYC, secondary cities, olivia pope pancake

I decided to be a food critic now.

It's been almost two years since I've lived in the Hudson Valley. The first 6-12 months felt like Stockholm syndrome; I kept returning to the city every other weekend because I didn't know how to get acclimated to my new surroundings, the deafening silence of town once 7 pm strikes, the closure of business during most of the weekdays, lack of community (at the time), no events. I returned to the chaos that was NYC because I didn't know how to adjust to peace or rest.

Now, I'm finding every reason not to return to the city. I love my friends and community, but since turning 30, big cities have added a number to my stimuli. I have become my parents; I can't be bothered with traffic. The road rage that once lived inside me has left me because I can't go to prison. I'm saving that for my retirement in Sweden since Swedish incarcerated folks are living better than those in the land that's supposedly free. Public transportation makes me uncomfortable; I hate that people are in my space, I hate competing for reservations, and I hate that the table next to me is fighting me for space to sit or get up. I hate traveling to another borough; it feels is a significant life decision. I hate that events begin at my bedtime. I have projected my fatigue of New York City to all cities. But it's not that I don't like cities, I don’t like metropolitan cities. 

There's a new term floating that's been thrown around on the clock app, "secondary cities," which can be defined as a city's population whose density may range between 10-50% of the country's largest cities like NYC or LA. Secondary cities can be considered Atlanta, Seattle, Chicago, or Austin. For the purposes of this article I’d rather not get into the weeds of urban planning and development. But here to point out that’s secondary cities hold to some value.

If you’re overstimulated by noise, choice, and congestion, secondary cities can be more manageable, and less of an expedition. I love that secondary cities that take me 15-10 minutes to get to the other side instead of hopping into an Uber to take a road trip to another borough. You know the feeling of being in NYC and going out to dinner without reservations becoming a lost war to hunger? And that the restaurants on your list are so far apart that you have to debate where to journey next. 

When I was in Philly earlier this month, I loved that all the options on my list were within a 10-15-minute driving radius. I stayed in a cute hotel residency called Archway in Fishtown, but like Williamsburg BK 2.0 0 - buildings with gentrification font, hyper concentration of bars and restaurants, and no parking. I do this now where I call my friends randomly to see if they are available to hang out because I am tired of booking my friends like it's a dentist appointment. I had two homies in Philly and decided I wanted to let go of needing a plan for the weekend.

Its giving Bedford Ave gentrification realness

I had my list of restaurants I wanted to visit but let my friends pick their favorites to experience food they love or have always wanted to try. This is huge for me because I micro-manage every restaurant choice like an editor-in-chief at Eater. I wanted to learn how to make chai, so we ordered South Indian food from Amma's where I got the whole spiel about North Vs. South Indian cuisines, introduction to a new world of condiments (pickled coriander is that girl), and how Indian food is a cuisine that is to be enjoyed right out of an uncle's kitchen.

The next day, we were supposed to go to Kettle black for croissants that sold out before 10am, but I lost my car keys and needed something sweet make me feel better about myself. I went to Middlechild Club, which is an all-day bar and restaurant inspired by deli's and old school diners in Philadelphia. During the day, no reservations are required, and it functions like a deli. In the evening, the aesthetic becomes just slightly less casual and more edgy with emerald green tiles and sepia-toned globe lights, with eclectic staff, that makes you feel like you’re in a restaurant that is part of an editorial piece from the 70’s.

I also went the night before with a different friend who insisted that I try their latkes, which had a Japanese twist, Okonomiyaki style with unagi, kewpie, pickled ginger, and scallion. The latke was rectangular shaped, built like a thick ass brick ass cinnamon French toast stick, salty, creamy, crunchy, and tasted like it was fried in premium Aflac duck fat. Alongside participating in a wet/dry January, I got an Earl Grey carrot juice that tasted like the feeling of an early October day where you don't know how to dress or feel about the weather. Still, you know it's going to be a good day. 

I went back the next day because I needed to feel better about losing my car keys and paying $300 to replace them, so I decided to spend more money on a brunch for dopamine purposes. I went back and acted as if I wasn't just there and couldn't decide if I wanted to sit by the window with the green tile tables, or the bar, or a low-top table with chairs that had back support since I'm aging. After changing my seat four times, I ordered more than I knew I would finish. 

The main character was Olivia's Big Pancake (Kinda like Olivia Pope's Big glass of wine), which was an 8-ounce malted pancake dripping in a citrus essence that was syrup (not maple), and honey butter, the condiment that smiles back. Anything citrus-flavored or scented is the core of my flavor palette, mainly when it provides the sensation of an immunity boost, eating 1000 calories. I’m sorry if this pancake was named after a different Olivia.

The biscuits and chili mushroom gravy were out, so there was no need to take a lactaid pill. 

Pastrami Egg + Cheese had fluffy, cloudy, sharp American cheese, & the kraft in it is that it did not taste like American cheese, accompanied with in-house smoked pastrami in a wrap. I just remembered it was supposed to come on Rye. Despite being griddled to perfection, I could only take two bites because my energy was spent on Olivia.

As a front-of-house staff recommended, The Surfer tasted like a healthy, leaner and low-fat charcuterie board with house turkey, blueberry chutney & arugula on an exceedingly crusty ciabatta that I ended up eating for dinner. As you can imagine, I was stuffed. Blueberry was a great antioxidant twist, given the go-to is always a cranberry sauce or relish that is paired with turkey.

You got diner food, then there's DINE HER food.

When I return, hopefully within the next month, they will still have their Salmon Crudo because pineapple noun cham is calling out for me. Broiled Fleet Oysters because I can’t eat what feels like plasma and boogers. This is a plea to restaurants to start having cooked oysters on their menus. And for dessert, I will add all of them to my cart, express shipping. Because what is a cannoli milk punch?

But back to Olivia, who reminds me of that Hazelnut Praline Packcake from Sunday in Brooklyn. I'm invested in the malt flavor, which adds this toasted, nutty flavor to things. And the most popping thing about it is that it acts as simple sugar when added to the dough, so no need for any added sugars for the batter.

I'm thinking about recreating Olivia at home. However, please don't wait for a recipe because I'll probably return to Philly before making it. I'm tired of dishes.

Other honorable mentions.

Doro Bet - Ethiopian Gluten Free Fried Chicken, Spicy Berbere with all of the sauces Garlic Aioli, Mitmita Ailot, Senafinch Mustard, Honey Hot,

Verdict- Chicken was tender, moist. Spicy Berbere, was smokey, fiery (not too much) with coriander and nigella coming in strong. Very salty, my blood pressure probably spiked, could have been just the batch. Skin super crunchy, it was kinda nicee, but I also hated it because I made a MESS. The skin crumbled like cornflakes. I prefer a little tug in my skin. Sauces, unnecessary. Very mayo heavy and just added an extra fatty layer to the chicken I didn’t like. Hot honey was actually alright though.

Huda - My friend’s favorite, kinda mine now too, Swordfish with kimchi tartar sauce and Napa cabbage slaw on a milk bun.

Verdict - Milk bread destroys me. But some things in life are worth suffering for. Taking a bite, I was transported to a beach I’ve never been to in San Diego. All I needed was a beer for optics. I hate beer.

Shackmaxon Pizza - Same friend’s favorite, tomato slice + cheese slice,

Verdict - Tomato slice, was a a dense and thick piece of focaccia slathered in probably some of the best tomato sauce I’ve had. The tomato sauce, was savory, umami almost with a touch of acid. NO NOTES. The cheese slice was average but I added some pickled coriander on top, and I screamed from excitement.

Fishtown Social - This was around the corner from my hotel. I wanted to get a glass a wine, but this case it was 4. Met a lovely woman also by herself named Amy who got topsy turvy with me on white wine. But I influenced her to try Lambrusco again. Reccomeded by the bar tender. I don’t know if it was because if it was his favorite or because it was their most expensive glass/bottle on the list for that night. Reyneke, Vine Hugger Chini Blanc, Western Cape South Africa

Verdict- Wine has little acidity, Fresh like fresh cut grass but without that scent, and kinda yeasty. I’d buy for $48 a bottle again.

ALSO I’ll probably make a video about it, but reading a wine menu is hard. So for reference this the what “Reyneke, Vine Hugger Chini Blanc, Western Cape South Africa” means; Winemaker, wine name, vintage, region, country

Okay that it.

Sincerely,

Highly Blessed and Highly Flavored