Saturday

• Peanut granola bar from Hudson News at Port Authority, consumed on the downtown A platform as I was running to catch the train, an hour late because of the stupid bus, which had gotten in late, and I had been on the bus all day, and my only snacks there were a vegan green foods bar and a large Fuji apple — oh, and a bunch of Gin-Gins ultra strength candies
• Whiskey ginger at the Delancey
• Another whiskey ginger at the Delancey
• Cheeseless veggie pizza slice from the place around the corner from the Delancey, inhaled between sets, wondering what idiot replaced the Gray’s Papaya on the corner with an eyeglass store
• Another whiskey ginger at the Delancey
• A bunch of water
• 1.5 fish tacos at the place that used to be Dash Dogs (thanks for sharing, Sean!)
• More water, more water. By the time I got near a bed (thanks, Erin’s roommate!) I’d been awake for almost 23 hours exactly.

Sunday

• Huge, delicious brunch from Brooklyn Label: roasted veggie hash with potatoes and baked tofu (I’d wanted the version with eggs, but whatever, the place was packed and it was still delicious); toast; approx. 5 cups of Stumptown coffee which was fine but really nothing special.
• I’d thought about going to Chinatown later in the day but I was so stuffed after brunch, for hours.
• Cheap generic deli chocolate-chip cookie, impulse-bought and eaten while watching handball players in a park
• Gala apple from a deli, ditto
• Shortly thereafter I happened to pass a Red Mango, and having read so much about this Korean chain’s yogurt prowess, I decided to try the limited-time-only pumpkin flavor. It was good, but not overly pumpkin-y, though it did have nice tang and a hint of cinnamon. At $4 a cup I wouldn’t do it again. (And then I was too full to eat anything else but I was desperate for something salty or umami after all that sweet — I hate when this happens.)
• Right before boarding the A train to JFK I wandered down Christopher Street and decided to drop in the Stonewall Inn for a drink, a sentimental good-luck toast of sorts for Maine. Perfectly serviceable house Merlot and an extremely generous pour for $7.
• Ended up starving at the airport a couple hours later and eating a Clif bar I had in my bag.

A thing I quite like about visiting New York now, as a former resident, is that I feel no particular pressure to eat landmark foods or visit must-try restaurants. I have lots of memories; I don’t need to scramble about for more. I just need to indulge my whims and fuel my wandering.