Do you know what happens when two frazzled foodies conjoin for a night of intended academic productivity?
It goes something like..not studying, eating, talking about eating, eating more, laughing, eating again, dyeing hair, and eating one more time…plus a little more not studying.
It only took us about two hours to figure out where we should go for dinner.
We decided on a charming little tapas bar called Flight.
Then, it only took about thirty minutes more plus the help of a kinda flakey waitress to choose what nummy little plates we wanted.
The mango-studded tuna tartare was certainly not a bad choice… especially because the purple potato chips that accompany it were darn near tater chip perfection.
Lightly salted,super thin, super crisp, tasted like earthy potato instead of deep-fried grease…and purple…now that’s what I’m talking about.
Next, came the edmame.
Also, not a poor selection by any means.
It took a minute, but I really came to particularly enjoy the level of textural complexity offered by the seaweed.
The problem with these dainty oceanic dishes was that by the time we actually ended up eating… uhhh we were a little bit really super hongry and needed something with a smidge more muscle to it.
Salvation came in the form of gnocchi.
Sweet buttery biscuits, let me tell you… Flight’s gnocchi= potatoes done right.
Those beautiful fluffy gnocchi arrived in a bath of rich, creamy, yet astoundingly light, cheese sauce; which along with sautéed spinach and smokey pancetta, made for a dish that is nothing short of gastronomic artwork.
Something so undeniably heavenly makes for an extra sad last bite.
We had to split it.
PS…I love square dishes.
Considering how starving we were , and how we technically had miniature servings for dinner, and the fact that we both have the appetites of overweight men…our taking a wittle dessert stop at Big City Bread Cafe was totally justified.
At the suggestion of one of the baker dudes in the back, we went with the chocolate truffle cakes, heated just a bit so that the centers were warm and molten and painfully delicious.
As my fellow eating enthusiast put it, these cakes tasted like a seriously great hug… and if that doesn’t make sense to you, then you need more chocolate and hugs in your life.
These last bites hurt were as heartbreaking as the gnocchi. I will definitely be returning to Big City Bread in the near future. It was precious, and their non-dessert fare seems equally scrumptious, and one of the baker boys made eyes at me…and I feel that someone in the baked-goods industry would make an excellent soul mate.
Remember that time we dressed up like witches and pigged-out on Harry Potter goodies?
Well, we were supposed to make butter beer too.
But it never happened.
Naturally, we had to make up for it.
There’s no beverage more appropriate for dying someone’s hair purple anyway.
I feel weird because I keep saying “we.” It sounds like I’m referring to myself in the plural third person. I swear I’m not crazy…like that.
I just failed to accredit my lovely food fanatic with a name…it’s Gina. She’s been here before, and she’ll be here again.
Cause it’s honestly kind of tough to find people my age with such a devout passion for eatery…and with such a killer palate.
I have much to learn from her…for instance, that while Bulldawg Pizza’s pizza is completely mediocre, they whip out some mind-blowing fresh-baked garlic rolls.
Crisp on the outside..doughy on the inside..buttery and amazing on all sides. A most appropriate conclude a proper foodie night.