My main reason for eating out so often is because...I like da foods. The process of shoving tasty things into my mouth and maneuvering my jaw in such a manner so that my teeth may best crush up the bits of tasty things and send them along the lengthy, squishy, mucus-lined journey through the series of digestive tubes so that I may reap the alimentary benefits or gain another subcutaneous layer of fat fills whatever part of my brain that feels joy with...joy.
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Last Friday I ate in Harlem with Stephanie. I had never been there before, but since she was living there for the summer it was a good opportunity to visit the area and not make Stephanie schlep downtown to see me. She showed me this mildly frightening flyer (not found in Harlem, but I thought it'd be a nice warm and fuzzy way to open up the entry) while we hung out in her room. I'm not sure if the dude is vaguely pointing at himself or attempting to point at the reader.
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Couscous probably isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when you think “brunch,” but after our trip to Café Mogador last weekend, we’re starting to think it should. It was here, in the heart of the East Village, that we met up with a left-coast visitor, BurningMan, as well as our local friend HypoxyDoc, who was eager to take us on our first visit to a restaurant that we had passed dozens of times, but had inexplicably never tried.
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Whenever I’m craving for a lamb dinner but don’t necessarily want Indian food, I go to Cafe Mogador. Their tagines are excellent here and my favorite is the lamb with couscous in saffron sauce. The staff is not the friendliest — every time I have gone, I am always waiting outside for at least 30 minutes to be seated even though there are empty tables inside. I’ve learned to bug them and after a lot of insisting that my friends and I can take that table “over there,” they’ll give in and seat us. I have no clue why they always want the place to look like it’s empty. Maybe they like having people wait outside so passers-by get curious about the restaurant. It’s hard to say no to a comforting tagine. Cafe Mogador makes the wait worthwhile.
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