The Girl Who Ate Everything

green sammich of Asian origin!

First off, I've been eating a lot lately. Or today (but today counts as lately). After going to Chinatown on a mission to get a haircut for the first time since August I bought a green sandwich by the East Broadway mall. The last time I had one was in December. STILL DELICIOUS. Why is it so delicious? The bun is chewy and soft, the vegetables are crunchy and have a sharp, spicy taste from somewhere (aka, I have no clue but I don't think it's illegal) and it costs $1.

After strolling around the Manhattan Bridge I came across a supermarket. Mrrh? Under the bridge? Inside the supermarket (which is called New York Supermarket--I kid you not) sprouted a FESTIVAL OF CANNNDYYY (can you tell why I don't go to supermarkets?) resulting in much candy photo taking and total consumption of a box of banana Pocky.

Banana Pocky

For those who read this journal and know me (you know...both of you), I might do a full 360 and feel like killing myself soon. But wait, I'M NOT DONE! THE FOODING IS NOT OVER! (WHY AM I SHOUTING?!)

I'm shouting because I tried a new food today. It wasn't pig brains (oooh, some day) but it was new to me. Behold: THE KNISH. I'm not up on my Jewish foodstuffs (but I did go to a friend's seder once, resulting in the worst food coma I've ever experienced in my life...of course, it was worth it) so here's some info courtesy of What's Cooking America:

knish - The knish is a pastry of Jewish origin consisting of a piece of dough that encloses a filling of seasoned mashed potatoes. Basically they are a mashed potato pie. When sold by the street corner vendors in New York City, they are fried and square shaped. The baked ones are usually round shaped, and are usually made at home and some knish bakeries.

History: Eastern European Jews developed the knish. During the early 1900s, when hundreds of thousands of Eastern European Jews Emigrated to America and settled in New York City, they brought with them their family recipes for knishes. Knishes were made at home until Yonah Schimmel, a rabbi from Romania, began to sell them at Coney Island in New York City, and also from a pushcart on the Lower East Side. In 1910, he opened his original knish bakery located on East Houston Street.

[As for the name of that website, "What's Cooking America", is that questioning as to what is cooking the entire country? Like what kind of pot is cooking America? A huge one? At first I thought it was like "What's Cooking, America" but then there'd be a comma. There is no comma; I have been foiled. Maybe America is cooking in a foil pouch.]

As I was at the Sunshine Cinema to see Steamboy (and to get away from food for a sec, this movie was awesome and you should see it if you like Japanese stuff and watching things explode) I couldn't help but notice the warm glow of the Yonnah Schimmel Knishery.

it glows

Don't tell me you wouldn't be pulled in? Oh, wait...

there's so many

I stared at those for a while before buying my movie ticket. And then I returned and stared some more. After I saw a woman enter, I hopped right in.

Since it was around 9:40 PM there weren't tons of choices but I asked the server for a sweet one and ended up with blueberry cheese. She popped it in the microwave for a while and $3 later I owned a paper bag. ...with a pillow of blueberry cheese knish goodness. I thought I could eat it in the theater before the movie started but I stayed outside waiting for a friend. After maybe two seconds I thought, "Screw it" and dug into the knish.

You don't really dig into a knish though. Since it was warm, I had the feeling it was going to explode. Thankfully, it did not. What it did do was extrude warm, creamy cheese with a bit of blueberry in soft dough and I wish I remembered it better but I ate it hours ago and my memory sucks. What I DO remember is thinking, "HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO GOOD, CAN I EAT THIS EVERY DAY?!?!?!" It's only a 35 minute walk from my dorm, but I know a 2-3 mile round trip probably wouldn't erase the calories.

It was good. Ooh. I guess it wouldn't be that good if it were room temperature but it won me over as essentially being a huge, sweet dumpling with so much filling that its presence in my hand was akin to holding a water balloon, if the water balloon were made of dough and was full of cheese. You know, that kind of balloon.

I'm probably describing it incorrectly but I was enamored by this knish to the 10000th degree. I guess it's because I didn't have anything to compare it to, but now I don't want any other knish. Ever! Unless someone tells me it's really good.

Oh, the best part about all this is that I didn't finish my knish. This is GOOD because I tend to overeat everything and go out of control. Due to walking into the movie late and the movie getting out late I didn't want to finish the knish, so I'm saving it for later. Mmm.