Monday: Whoopie Pie in the Sky

My first whoopie pie. An Isamax Snacks “original”-style Wicked Whoopie Pie, which means two chocolate cake discs stuffed with enough cream filling to set off a classroom of children like firecrackers, let alone one bleary-eyed girl, 28,000 feet high in the sky, at 7 o’clock in the morning. (Is that what makes it “wicked”?)

Mine is slightly smooshed from the transport, which means I’ve lost some of the cream filling to the crevices of its crinkled plastic wrapper forever. I’m not worried, just patient. I cat-nap until the beverage service comes around, because nothing cuts through that cloying-ly sweet frosting — you know, the kind that sends sharp, little tingles up into your bones — like stoic, acidic, citrus juice. Think about it: Why else does lemonade go down so well at birthday parties?

The verdict: It was so messy. It was processed cake-y, registering only slightly more homemade than a Hostess Ding-Dong or a Hoho. And on frosting steriods — an instant sugar high, tingly bone sensations and all.

… Although I’m fairly certain I caught the man reviewing his Powerpoint presentation next to me sneaking a glance. This is not normal Monday morning flight behavior. Was his look one of jealousy, or disgust? I was too absorbed in my own Wicked Whoopie world to tell.

Saturday: “This Is How They Do It in France” (aka the “Central Park Bliss” Post)

First ride on my new bike, Caliente:

We entered Central Park around 80th Street on the East side, went up and around the top, and … break.  Near the quiet, algae-filled pond just south of the Great Hill, we stopped for a late lunch, Euro-style.

Which means: A baguette; some sliced porchetta from Agata & Valentina; deli-sliced Swiss cheese; an English cucumber (thin-sliced) for condiment. Some assembly required. (Good-for-you Apple & Eve fruit punch juice boxes from my fridge.)

… the loveliness of the afternoon? No imagination required. None, whatsoever.

Breakfast: OJ and (Hard-Boiled) Eggs, a Still Life

The simplest of shapes and colors are so pretty.

That’s the thought that made me pause in the midst of the whirlwind that is me rushing around the apartment, getting ready to leave for work, and snap this photo.

I downed the juice, headed out the door … peeled and popped the hard-boiled eggs down the gullet a little later on.

Breakfast: Look Closer, It’s Not Soda (the Fizzy Lizzy Post)

I often start the day with a serving of fruit juice, but this is a first: it tastes like I’m drinking a soda for breakfast. 

Ah, but look again: No sugar added. Just fruit juice, water and bubbles. That’s one of two secrets of Fizzy Lizzy‘s awesome fruit spritzers, the second being that the percentage of juice varies between 35% (Northern Lights Cranberry) and 70% (Lone Star Grapefruit), which means you’re not getting 100% of the calories of 100% juice, and still having a refreshing juice beverage.

To which my mother, if we were engaged in a dialogue standing in a kitchen somewhere, would point out: Nor are you getting 100% of the juice’s nutrients.

And I’d respond: Yeah, but 70% juice in a 12 oz. serving size — that’s roughly the same amount of juice as an 8 oz. glass of 100% juice. Right? 

Welcome to my childhood. This is exactly the sort of nerdy nutritional debates we had all the time growing up. Loved it.

Breakfast: D-I-Y Smoothie Bar (Midtown Oasis)

Pick a fruit, any fruit, and one of the two sweet girls who are perpetually manning the counter of this no-name mid-block oasis will blend you a custom smoothie.

Or, you can pick from a menu with names like “Berry Sunrise,” “Tropical Paradise,” etc. I just love the fact that I have the option to order off-menu.

Is there a strawberry, mango, banana smoothie on the menu? No. Was I in the mood for a strawberry, mango, banana smoothie this morning? Apparently so. Did I have a strawberry, mango, banana smoothie ($4) for breakfast? Hell yes I did. Love it.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: This no-name shop is one of the best things going on in the greater Penn Station / Port Authority neighborhood.

Smoothies, fresh pressed juices; croissants, danishes and big, thick slices of banana nut bread and carrot bread on the counter under a glass cake stand; a rotating selection of snacks, healthy and otherwise; Lotto tickets, fresh flower bouquets. It’s on W. 37th Street between 7th and 8th avenues — you can nearly spot the fresh flowers and palm frawns from either avenue. Go.

Breakfast: Market Discovery, Tropicana’s “Healthy Kids” Juice On-the-Go (aka “Cute Straw” Post)

Very exciting discovery in the grocery store last night:

Tropicana now sells six-packs of these vitamin-fortified, 8 oz. servings of orange juice, complete with cute expandable straw. If you’ve read this blog with any regularity, you might have picked up on the fact that I like to drink my juice in the (recommended) 8 oz. serving size. Something really satisfying about that.

I’ve never seen orange juice commercially sold like this before; the smallest cartons are usually 12 oz. and up. I may not be the target demographic (the packaging is clearly labeled “Healthy Kids”), but I’ll be drinking up.

COST: On sale for $2.99 per pkg (6)

Breakfast: This One’s For You, Mom

One of my mother’s comments about this blog is that I need more fruit and more milk. (My mother is a dietician.)

My response was, “Well, I don’t blog about everythin that I eat.” Which is true. I often start the day out with a serving of fruit juice — such as this Apple & Eve 100% juice Very Berry juice box — which may or may not make it into the breakfast post. So, this one’s for you, Mom.

Breakfast: Liquid Infusion

I believe in eating when you’re hungry, which I’m apparently not this morning, so I’m easing into the day with some of the sweetest-tasting orange juice I’ve had in a long time — actually the flavor and bright orange-y color lead me to believe it is, in fact, not orange juice at all but tangerine juice.

I love periodically picking up these little bottles of fresh-squeezed juice from the corner deli (they’re sold everywhere in New York) because the bottle is a perfect 8 oz., exactly one serving size of fruit juice. I’ll wash and reuse the bottle a bunch of times before recycling. (This post will make my mother happy.)

Breakfast: The $6 Breakfast Sandwich (Yes, Really)

This is not the first time I’ve attempted to get these eggs.

If anyone follows me on Twitter, I tweeted not to long ago about the anomaly of Dean & Deluca’s breakfast grill, which closes at 10 a.m. for no apparent reason. It’s not like they have more lunch prep than the thousands of other delis and diners the city that don’t stop serving breakfast until 11 a.m.

My curiosity finally got the best of me today (which also happens to be payday, and a Friday, all the more reason to splurge on breakfast). First of all, there’s no posted menu, which drives a compulsive menu reader like me a little crazy. What do they serve? How expensive is it? And … is it worth it?

What’s on the menu. At the grill I was offered either a breakfast burrito or a egg and croissant sandwich. A whole grill and only two choices? (I also saw a hot oatmeal bar.) They were out of bacon, and as I’m not generally a fan of breakfast sausage in patty form, I opted for a croissant sandwich with eggs, cheese and grilled onions (by special request).

Here’s where I experience sticker shock: At the cash register, the clerk rings me up … $6 for a breakfast sandwich. $6.50 with tax. “Hold on,” I say, “I didn’t add any meat.” And the clerk proceeds to explain that D&D’s breakfast sandwiches are one-price-fits-all, unless I ordered double meat, then I would be charged extra.

Whaa … you’ve got to be kidding me. A $6 cheese and egg breakfast sandwich on a croissant? Still. “In that case, can you throw on the sausage,” I asked. This thing had better be premium because the guys around the corner can do two eggs, cheese on a croissant for $2.50, add a buck for bacon. I was having more than a passing flashback to Carl’s Jr. “$6 burger” ad campaign a few years ago.

Is it worth it? So it’s on a damn good croissant that plain I’d happily pay $2 – $2.50 for. Buttery, flaky, soft and pliable, it was a damn good croissant. Eggs too were good, sausage, just what I expected out of a breakfast patty. It’s a good sandwich, but it’s not worth $6.

And I find it a little unbelievable that D&D’s doesn’t start with a base sandwich of eggs, cheese and croissant for, say, $4.50 or $5 and charge extra for the meat. I might be back for the $4.50 price. At $6, next time I’m back, I’m sticking with D&D’s exotic fresh juice blends, which have a price point to rival Naked Juice, or the baked goods, which are sourced from some of the best independent kitchens around the city — will you check out that bacon cheddar scone from Bouchon Bakery! — and all have prices that are clearly marked.

Breakfast: Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Twinkies, smoothies, roses and lotto tickets.

I’m instantly charmed by this tiny, unnamed food shop on W. 37th between 7th and 8th avenues, and amused by its paradoxes. Where else in Midtown is it possible to buy a Cup of Noodles and a chocolate croissant out of the same bakery case? Or a dozen different kinds of scrachers and a bouquet of roses (a winning combination)? Or a fresh fruit smoothie and a Twinkie?

Where else in Midtown do they even sell Twinkies, for that matter? And what is up with the mirror in the nook with the Pringles? I’ll be back at some point for a slice of banana bread … damn that looks good.

Tip:  I’ve always thought Twinkies were a nutritional wasteland, but they only have 150 calories. Do I dare?