"I want a NYC bagel," my friend said when they first got off the plane. I threw them a strange look. A city with delicious cuisine from all around the world and the first thing you want is a bagel, come on. But NYC is apparently "famous" for their bagels. I wish I was given the memo. To me a bagel is a bagel, regardless if you get it from NYC or Bruegger's in Ann Arbor. If someone asked me to to tell them something that is quintessential NYC, the last thing I'd tell them is a bagel. So after we indulged in some high carb goodness at a local deli, the next culinary demand came. I want a Reuben from a Jewish Deli. I was so confused. I know Jewish Delis used to be famous in NYC, but now they are essentially a symbol of what NYC once was. So we went over to Kew Gardens and got him a Reuben. I ordered some Matzo Ball soup, which was delicious. After that we did some touristy crap: Time Square/Rockefeller Center/ South Street Seaport, take your pick. And finally it was time for some din-din (as he put it, while I rolled my eyes). He cleared his voice and then said with a serious demeanor, "I want alcohol." I shrugged and said let's go to the Lower East Side. He agreed and was giddy over the prospect of Boozing it up in the city, but before we could do that we needed some sort of sustenance because we were responsible adults after all. And that's when the final straw came. "Great, I can finally try an iconic NYC hot dog," he said thinking his culinary passport of the city finally had a foundation. "No," I said abruptly. "We will not waste money at a hotdog stand for what typically amounts to an underwhelming experience," I said with a stern look on my face. My friend, bewildered by my distaste for his "iconic" craving proceeded to buy three hot dogs anyways, at the tune of 3 dollars a dog. I walked a block down to a Halal cart and got a platter of Chicken, rice and salad with a drink for 6 dollars. The rich hue of red over the tzatzki made the platter look more like the beginning of an artist's palette. His hot dog looked like a hotdog with mustard on it.
People come to NYC romanticizing a NYC that once was. They want to relive the authentic mom and pop Jewish delis that existed during the first big rush of immigrants. They want to enter a mob owned Pizza shop in Brooklyn, while forgetting to fold their slices and order garlic knots on the side. They want to enter an Irish pub and make believe that the owner is just a regular joe like them and not a rich landlord who has made a fortune serving martinis to wall street workers, while consistently raising the rent on their tenants' properties. NYC lore propagates an unspoken hierarchy of culture. I mean sure if you want you it, you can find it, but I don't see movies glorifying the NYC I know to be home. I don't see the Puerto Rican Day Parade (the largest parade in the city) as a center piece for movies. I don't see the Zagat rating some of the best Jamaican or West Indies food in the city. High class in NYC instead glorifies a city that doesn't exist anymore The remnants are there. I can still get a slice. I can still pass a Synagogue on my way to work. And you best believe soda bread was served to me as a young kid, but these "other" cultures, the ones that aren't glorified and mythologized as quintessential NY are what populated my life. It's time to we stop romanticizing NYC and start treating it for what it is.
People come to NYC romanticizing a NYC that once was. They want to relive the authentic mom and pop Jewish delis that existed during the first big rush of immigrants. They want to enter a mob owned Pizza shop in Brooklyn, while forgetting to fold their slices and order garlic knots on the side. They want to enter an Irish pub and make believe that the owner is just a regular joe like them and not a rich landlord who has made a fortune serving martinis to wall street workers, while consistently raising the rent on their tenants' properties. NYC lore propagates an unspoken hierarchy of culture. I mean sure if you want you it, you can find it, but I don't see movies glorifying the NYC I know to be home. I don't see the Puerto Rican Day Parade (the largest parade in the city) as a center piece for movies. I don't see the Zagat rating some of the best Jamaican or West Indies food in the city. High class in NYC instead glorifies a city that doesn't exist anymore The remnants are there. I can still get a slice. I can still pass a Synagogue on my way to work. And you best believe soda bread was served to me as a young kid, but these "other" cultures, the ones that aren't glorified and mythologized as quintessential NY are what populated my life. It's time to we stop romanticizing NYC and start treating it for what it is.
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