Ever since I moved to the city, all I do is eat. Yes, I’ve been covering events, taking in museums instead of trashy movies, doing happy hours – all that predictable city stuff as well. But mostly, I’ve been eating.
Why the over-indulgence, you ask? Especially when I love to cook…?
Well, I learned pretty quickly that the first and only thing people say when you mention the new ‘hood you’ve moved into is, “Oh, Rajul I know the most amazing and cheap [insert mouthwatering foreign food here] joint RIGHT up the block from you.”
And of course, I believe the hype and run there before they can even finish the sentence. Hype is a tricky concept though, since everyone has different taste. It’s kind of the same concept with men. Ever cringe when someone says they know a guy/girl who's perfect for you?
It makes me sit and wonder why I’m so adventurous with food and not so much with men. I always scoff at women who stick to a strict prejudice when it comes to the race, profession or body type of their man candy, but truth be told – I haven’t branched out much myself.
To anyone who is a loyal reader (thank you, I heart you), you know my “type” by now. Tall, of Black or Caribbean persuasion, sweet and funny with a mischievous grin that makes me wonder what he’s been up to. Smart and well-read preferably, though Lord knows that doesn’t always happen. Let me not bring you back to Chris: the hottie witta body, but somehow with Paris Hilton’s brain capacity and conversational skills.
Anyway, I dated this science-y guy briefly (he got his dream job and bounced to another state) that really did something for me. Like really, really did something…ugh, why can’t the good ones stick around? And it wasn’t his science-ness. I just opened myself to something new and ooh, was it worth it.
Point being, I want to keep the adventurousness going.
Speaking of trying something different, I had the most sinfully decadent pizza last week at this place called Artichoke. Every single time I walk by this hole-in-the-wall, there’s a line wrapped around the freakin’ block and it intrigues me, and I’m not even a pizza person. Kept thinking, damn they must put crack on this pizza for New York people, who have the most severe A.D.D., to stand in line for an hour.
I described this to my friend Sue, who told me she read about their signature spinach-artichoke slice in one of those pretentious city-centric news blogs. The curiosity alone was enough to bring us there in the sweltering heat. The line moved surprisingly fast and before we knew it, we were devouring this pizza that clearly fell from heaven. There’s no other way.
Sometimes people just need to believe the hype, because it’s hyped for a reason.
My new goal is to start looking at dating in a similar sense as I do cuisine. Yes, Korean may not be what I’m used to but it can end up being delicious and healthy! It’s not like I don’t salivate when I see a really hot guy walking down the street already.
Although, if you put that guy next to another slice of that Artichoke pizza…I can’t promise he’s the one I’d sink my teeth into.