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Posts Tagged ‘pommes frites’

I may as well start from the beginning. Now that I’m back from Munich and Prague I have 8 billion photos and 8 billion things to share, so we’re just going to see how this goes. I have no idea how long we’ll be in City Mitten: Munich mode, but that’s what is happening.

This picture above was Nora and my first meal in Munich. Yep. After we bought our dindlrs for 8 million dollars a piece (you betcha I’m going to Oktoberfest again so I can wear that baby some more), Alex took us to the most random place to get food. It was in the parking lot of a grocery store. I felt like I was getting a hot dog from Home Depot, which is not a bad thing although I’m not sure if I’ve actually ever done it myself. Anyway, Alex suggested we get half a chicken with pommes (which they say pom-mes). Either I was starving (which I was) or it was truly delicious (which I think it also was).

Here’s the stand and the boys. Alex was appropriately wearing his I <3 NY sweatshirt. I appreciated that.

And this picture may either look gross or delicious:

Mayo anyone? For real. But the chicken was delicious. And HUGE. It was half of a chicken, more than enough for me and Nory and it was piping hot and a little cold outside so very good.

And so you get an accurate idea of how these boys eat in general, Alex went to the “bakery” later that night to pick up some dinner before going to Oktoberfest and this is what he brought back for us:

Yep. Donuts, really strange sandwiches with some sort of meat center that reminded us of spam and pretzels. We also had pretzels for breakfast the next morning. I don’t understand how these boys can eat like this (they also love fast food) and not die. It was days before Nora and I saw our first piece of fruit at the market and you can betcha we stocked up.

Those pretzels are delicious though. I could probably go for one right now.

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Do you know what this is? It’s poutine. Do you know what poutine is? It’s french fries with gravy and cheese curds. It’s Canadian. Apparently Celine Dion loves it.

Anyway, last week my friend Kyle and I kind of had a disaster of a night. And by disaster I mean we tried to go to this new place called The Meatball Shop, which is really not a shop. I imagined ordering at a counter and sitting on some stools facing out the windows. Oh, no. The Meatball Shop is a restaurant. With an hour and a half wait for two people on a Tuesday night. It’s true. So we did not go there.

We got a six pack and headed a block away to T poutine, a place I had seen a thousand times on my Lower East Side adventures.

Anyway. It’s kind of strange. I’m down with the gravy but not sure if I’m down with the curds. My friend Kelly tells me I should give it another shot at Pommes Frites. And don’t worry, Meatball Shop, we’ll be back.

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