Friday, June 4, 2010

Food Tourism: The NYC Editions, part 2

I'm so happy to tell you that I've found it: the center of the vegan "chicken" universe. Please note, I'm not claiming any kind of originality with this finding. I was certainly not even close to the first one there, even among my small circle of friends. Nevertheless, this experience comes with a certain amount of self-gratification. One must be able to both locate and appreciate brilliance. While I'm sure my friends living in Brooklyn or its surroundings are duly smug about their proximity to Foodswings (ahemMatt), I hypothesize that their measure of its goodness might be hampered by that same closeness. Living on the opposite coast entirely, I am humbled at having experienced it: the perfect vegan drumstick. The center of the faux chicken universe. I might even say that this is the ultimate meat analogue.

After sampling the Foodswing wares during the first leg of our trip to New York, we went twice more during the second. Both subsequent visits were driven by a desire for these amazing drumsticks. The sandwiches and fake fish are all perfectly servicable, but for me, it's all about  the drumsticks. What can I say about them? A thick layer of not-too-dense, succulent seitan, breaded and fried, then coated in the traditionalish Buffalo sauce or some version of a southern-style barbeque sauce. Amazing. They deserve much more praise than my currently-addled brain can summon. For you, my dear readers, I managed to exercise enough restraint on our third trip to Foodswings to take some quick pictures before I devoured them.

Before you get too impressed by my self-control, though, I should acknowledge that it was largely made possible by a case of gross over-eating. It is not without some shame that I admit that this final trip to Foodswings was preceded by two hours of Belgian-beer swilling at Spuyten Duyvil and a full dinner at the fabulous Pan-Asian restaurant Wild Ginger. By the time we got back to Matt's apartment, armed with drumsticks and two hours of George Romero's Survival of the Dead, I wasn't at all sure I was going to make it. I powered through, even though it cost me that night's sleep as I contemplated my belly excessively full of protein and occasionally rued the day I was born. Luckily, hindsight is a kind mistress and smooths all such memories into just another hilarious episode of reckless food tourism, which I then present for your amusement.

Above is the lovely, tangy salad that came with my entree at Wild Ginger. We also split some spring rolls and two (count them, two!) orders of their amazing watercress and soy cheese wontons, which are served with drizzles of some sort of mango puree. I'm drooling at the memory.

And, finally, this last picture is my citrus seitan entree. Marinated soy curls flavored with a savory sauce and served on a generous bed of broccoli.

And that's it! This is the end of my NYC travels in food, at least until I can manage to get back. Matt seems to like me well enough, so perhaps... Finally, one shot of C looking like the smug, vegan bastard he is. Can you really blame him?

1 comment:

Bourbon Enthusiast Monthly said...

I will not be going to Spuyten-Duyvil or Foodswings again for at least three months.

Miss you guys, already.