I Am Melting And It Is Delicious: Navigating the NYC Heatwave through Dessert

On Friday it was 106 degrees in NYC. Saturday, 102 degrees.

Now, I know it was probably slightly hotter in other places—like, say, the core of the sun—however, other places do not have a kajllion people and a ridiculously large amount of tarmac and construction vehicles and subways radiating heat back at them! Truth.

In order to beat the NYC radiating flames o’ death (aka “Soho”) this weekend, I very much so ate my feelings—my cold, tasty, sugary feelings.

So: which products merely served as hapless coolant to the flames of my rage? 
Which ones melted my cold, cold heart? 
And which products are hiring Emily H. as their dessert model? (hint: all of them)


Learn more after the jump!

Lizard v. Flay: NYC Eatin'

Hands down my favorite thing about NYC is the delicious delicious food on every corner. Yet, these days I always seem to encounter perfectly competent NYC businesses whose dishes have defeated Bobby Flay.


I have seen bread pudding that defeated Bobby Flay, fish tacos that defeated the Flayaway, and, most intriguingly, the Chicken and Waffles that defeated Señor Flay. 


So, question: Why is Bobby Flay up in everyone's culinary grill!??!

Flay would appreciate that pun. This makes me hate it.

Now, Flay and I have had our differences, but I had more or less buried the hatchet until this recent revelation: Bobby Flay thinks he can beat everyone at their best dish??????????

like, BRO R U SRS???

A brief listing of some recent, Flay-defeating and soon-to-defeat-Flay NYC gastronomic revelations, after the jump:

Creepin Creepin Creepin on Celebs

Yes, I admit: I enjoy celebrity sightings.

To begin, I am from the Midwest. Specifically, Michigan. Do you know how many celebs live in Michigan? Answer: Kid Rock and some people that play sports and therefore are not actually famous. That's it. Everyone else left.

Due to the scarcity of famous people, us Michiganders take what we can get--i.e. local weathercaster Jerry Hodak is like, the man.

 (Bitches weep at this old dude's feet)

Unlike the Mitten, NYC has a lot of rich famous people who can actually afford rent in Manhattan. Sometimes I encounter them. And I think I have a seemingly-non-stalker-ish, actually-quite-stalker-ish system that works pretty well. Read after the jump...

"I'm the shit, up in this bitch": Livin amongst the I-Bankers

Growing up in Ukrainian-Doctor-ville, U.S.-kraine, for most of my life I was lead to believe that the #1 and #2 top-earning professions were clinical medical doctor and surgeon.

However, my non-Ukrainian-doctor collegiate acquaintances have made me aware of a much more ridiculously-well-paid subgroup of the population: Investment bankers.


Or as peeps in the know refer to them, I-bankers.

I bring up I-bankers because at this point they literally surround me... Yes, NYC is full of them. (The rent is too damn high..  unless you are an I-banker) 


This weekend in particular involved lots of I-bank socializing, even miles away from the financial district. A brief overview of my weekend of i-bank glory, after the jump: