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Dinner For Two

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jonatan

estilo baja: crispy beer-battered mahi mahi, chipotle aioli, mexican-style coleslaw

pastor: chile ancho rubbed pork, chile de árbol salsa, grilled pineapple

camarón: shrimp, roasted garlic, avocado, chipotle mojo

rosemary-marinated skirt steak: potato-poblano rajas, avocado-tomatillo crema, crispy manchego

pancita: chipotle-piloncillo glazed pork belly, orange, pickled onion, crispy shallots

calamar: crispy calamari, mango-fresno salsa, chile guajillo vinaigrette

estilo baja, *2nd order: crispy beer-battered mahi mahi, chipotle aioli, mexican-style coleslaw

mole: sautéed chicken, plantain salsa, mole poblano, crispy plantain

pollo: chicken al carbon, avocado, corn, salsa verde, queso fresco

 jonatan, *2nd order

We would have continued on (I at least hope) if the waitress ever came back… A night dressed in bittersweet, we finally threw in the towel and acknowledged that apparently there is a socially dignified (or lack thereof) cut-off at which “unlimited tacos” ends. As you can see, we labored late into the night as the dimmers switched on and the pic quality rendered the tacos increasingly unappetizing (it remains a mystery why those last couple tacos look truly so disgusting), but nevertheless a good time it was. If you’d like to try for yourself and join the ranks of those who ate their way to the blacklist, you may do so on Sundays after 5 at Mercadito on Ave B between 11th and 12th. Now go make me proud.

 

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MIGHTY QUINN’S BBQQQ

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Jonatan and I went to Mighty Quinn’s BBQ (2nd Ave between 6th and 7th for all you filthy BBQ goers) and disaster ensued with the carnage of two Pulled Pork Sandwiches ‘n Slaw, a pound of Brisket, Sweet Potato Casserole with Maple & Pecans, Burnt End Baked Beans, Buttermilk Broccoli Salad with Bacon, and French Fries, because what barbecue feast is complete without more fat?

 But, I must say, it was no premiere Texas BBQ; however no meal is complete without being relatively certain of possible explosion. Turns out this wasn’t our first taste of Mighty Quinn’s–we actually waited in line for an absurd amount of time at Smorgasburg (see post below) just the week (or so) before for their pulled pork sandwiches, which we initially appraised as being too bready and confirmed during our second visit. But apparently they are quite the hype with crowds swooning like girls in line to meet Marco Rubio (*this just in via The Colbert Report), but hey clearly we were seduced, we did order the entire menu, didn’t we? …didn’t we? I would say that their meats weren’t the most flavorful (but what do I know other than my sensible mouth hole), their Broccoli Salad a little watery, French Fries so-so, and their Sweet Potate Cass’role delish (if you rely on sugar for good health like I do).

So why so popular? TBD. I was listening to WNYC yesterday and they had a segment about Smorgasburg, and I believe they said that Mighty Quinn’s first got its start there (as a stand that later expanded into the restaurant that we all or at least a lot of us or at least maybe you know and love), but I could’ve misheard/been hallucinating….get so food deprived at work sometimes. Anyway despite having only mediocre thoughts/feelings/emotions/loves/hopes/dreams for Mighty Quinn’s, I must say just by the sheer volume of food I shoved down, my god was it mighty.

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Ice Cream Social For Grown Ups

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Do you miss being hyper? Do you miss cotton candy? Do you miss sun? Do you miss what hot dogs meant to you before they meant ground up pig scraps? Do you miss having food smeared on your face cuz you didn’t know what a mouth was? Do you miss peeing your pants? Do you miss being so dumb that everything in the world was fun? I do too and it’s called being in 5th grade. And what was the best part of 5th grade?! ICE CREAM SOCIAL!!!! (Of course these are not exclusively held for 5th graders, I know that) but 5th grade is the general time of life that your ice-cream-social-going selves peak, beyond which you can expect a steady decline of enthusiasm, immunity to fat, and sexual vigor. But that’s why god made Smorgasburg: the closest you’ll ever come to heaven/your childhood ever again (just see “baby” below). The first time I discovered this place was on a sun-drenched Saturday stroll in Williamsburg, the pulse of spring reverberating through the streets as we approached an inviting mass of pedestrian traffic. In my subsequent stupor, I stood wide-eyed as plate after plate flashed in front of my face: ice cream sandwich pork belly buns chicken ‘n waffles milkshakes fries donuts bubble tea bbq baguettes macaroons salt water taffy (this could go on forever and I was literally just overcome by exhaustion) so to make a long story short, we ran in and stuffed as much food would fit down our throats despite having just eaten two bags of pastries…and then went back to Brooklyn Heights to do it again the following day. Here are some pictures: