Cilantro is one of those upper west side eateries that has been around for about ten years now, but is easy to dismiss as just another poser Mexican joint. Yeah, we know Californians like to proclaim that they have better Mexican on the west coast, but sometimes we here on the eastern side need a fix of sizzlin’ eats and guac too.
I only come here on Monday nights. In fact, I travel across town to come here for dinner on Monday nights. As we all know, travelling crosstown in NYC is usually is an exercise in frustration. So there has to be a good reason. Continue reading Sizzlin’ Fajita Monday in NYC→
That was the thought that ran through my mind as the wind ripped across my back, and sent a shiver down to my bones, as if Mother Nature herself pummeled me with snowballs. The weather had been a bit warmer here in NYC, so I decided to jump into the NYCRUNS Cocoa Classic 5K in Riverside Park on a Saturday morning a few weekends ago. Well, warmer by winter standards as it had been in the 30’s and 40’s most of the week leading up to the race. I had no clue, as was the case with many of the other race participants I encountered, that the temps would take an overnight nose-dive into the teens. At race time it was 19 degrees, with a wind chill that made it feel half that. Also, considering it was already windy and the race course was in the park along the water, surely made for a mind-numbing frigid run. Thank goodness it was a sunny clear day out.
Delicious guacamole, and the salmon special on a bed of plantains was just perfect. I scarfed it all down while enjoying a damn fine Mojito. My taste buds were singing. My belly was happy. My gluttonous desires were completely satisfied.
My gal totally gushed over the chicken mole. That mole sauce was righteous! Oh, and they don’t skimp on the portions. You go home full after a meal here with a food baby in tow.
First things first. Happy New Year! Here’s to a healthy, happy, safe, and prosperous 2018!
I don’t know where you all live, but it’s freaking cold here in the Northeast. As cold as a polar bear’s anus. Colder than Jack Frost’s taint. So cold that my sphincter packed up and moved to Miami for the winter! All it left behind was a post-it note telling me it decided to live the life of a “snow bird”. Adios amigo!
I won’t even tell you where it adhered the note to. Let’s just say it was a rude awakening when I got up this morning and stumbled half asleep into the bathroom. Inconsiderate bastard didn’t even say goodbye! That’s what I get for all those years of a “soft touch” and Cottonelle. No appreciation whatsoever! Continue reading Happy 2018! New Me. New You. Oh, Stop The BS!→