A fortnight back I found myself in Gotham witnessing Jude Law play 'Hamlet'. It was a solid performance for sure; one not soon to be forgotten. However, readers, note that I've never reviewed a play on this blog. Right? But let's go with the notion that life imitates art, and as Hamlet was driven to do certain things so was yours truly.
Evening in question didn't afford time for a proper repast. By the time that LS and I reached the Upper East Side, the side walks had literally been rolled into Louis Vuitton carrying cases. We did manage to find one spot for a cocktail- thanks in part to my Yelp app. Nothing like a Manhattan in, well, Manhattan:
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| From November 2009 |
Now a finely mixed drink of bourbon, sweat vermouth and bitters on an empty stomach can produce cravings. I'll bet you didn't know that! So what do we suppose is open on the Upper East Side around 2ish on a Saturday evening. As noted above, not much. But if one should find oneself in the vicinity of 86th and 3rd Papaya King is beckoning:
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| From November 2009 |
I am a Chicagoan- born here actually- but I've never been able to get my mind around our over embellished hot dogs. Papaya King hit the spot on the night in question. A suitable salty encased meat product, smothered with kraut and a special hot sauce, nestled in a bun is a mouth-gasm! At any time really, but especially on a belly full of bourbon:
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| From November 2009 |
What to take from this? That Shakespeare has something to do with NYC style hot dogs? If you will, I suppose. Rather, I like to look at the tide of events. The inter-relation of it all never ceases to amaze. In a sense Shakespeare does lead one to eat hot dogs. I mean I'm not talking about anything cosmic here.
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