I like adventures.

Most of you reading this blog perhaps know that about me. And if you didn’t, I’ve dedicated a page in the menu above to help you out.

Today… I’m about to embark upon a new kind of adventure… This adventure goes by the name Employment, Full-time Employment.

Though I’ve attempted and successfully managed to avoid that adventure for quite sometime, I’m turning a new leaf and will now be working as a Social Media Specialist for mcgarrybowen, an advertising agency in the heart of Chelsea.

I would write more details for you, buuuuut I don’t want to be late for the morning commute. I’ve got some people watching on the subway to do folks.

Stay tuned for more updates!

There are days when I go scavenger hunting through the Lower Eastside on the lookout for lunch. The LES tends to woo me with its “Welcome to Shanghai” vibes, and I feel like I’ve traveled across the world when I see the excess amounts of bok choy and live toads for sale in the street markets (thanks Chinatown). And today was one of those days…

During my jaunt down Orchard street, my eye caught a glimpse of some bizarre sidewalk carvings. At first I’m positive I’ve discovered hieroglyphics, but upon further inspection I read the cursive word “sandwiches” etched in the cement. I glanced up to see only a tiiiiny blue half door. That’s it. That’s all. Nothin’ else but chipped blue paint. What to do, what to do? I bet you know what I did…

So my puffy jacket and I squeezed through this door made for gnomes and beheld a wonderfully quirky sandwich cavern. “Welcome to Cheeky’s madam.” Myy aren’t they friendly here. Friendly New Yorkers are the best. I looked around at the narrow lunch spot I’ve discovered, and… I’m in love.

Murals on every wall.

Funky menu.

Friendly chefs. I feel like we’ve got the ingredients for success here folks.

And success we did have indeed. My taste buds delighted themselves in the Grass Sandwich which entailed an eclectic mix of fried goat cheese, arugula, radishes, beets, and sweet potato mashed awesomeness. I’d also like to point out that my dear sweet server man named Din gave me beignets on the house, just because he’s from Nawlins and that’s what they do. Din, who’s just returned from a bike ride across America (see map of his route above), shared with me that the murals were created by an employee “to depict the friends on his life journey.”

So there you have it. 2 thumbs up for Cheeky’s Sandwiches even if they mayyyybe accidentally forgot how to make a proper door.

Food, glorious food.

Besides the fact that I performed that song in my 3rd grade Spring Play production and can still remember the dance routine, you need to know something else about me my friends…

I. LOVE. FOOD. glorious, glorious food. Thank you young Oliver for putting it so well.

Throughout this page I will share with you all the stuff I feel regarding the New York food scene: my reviews/likes/loves/questions/concerns/obsessions/suggestions. Wanna know something that excites my soul even more than the thought of little Oliver getting more porridge? I could live in this blessed city for 10 years and never eat at the same place twice. Mmm mmmmmm, man do I love the sound of that.

So without further I do, I give you my first review… The Toucan and The Lion.

2 Words: Simply stunning. A quaint but contemporary little joint nestled in the East Village, these guys offered small plates that blew. my. mind. Please tell the curried meatballs and Japanese bao buns I’m still dreaming about them. Also, how can you not love a place that gives you housemade bacon donuts with coconut glaze served up by a friendly Turkish Brit named Toga??

I’m sorry, but you guys had me at “Hello and welcome to our gastropub.”

(A big shout out of thanks to my hand model, Davis Webb).

Notice anything particularly different about these two apartment doors?

I didn’t notice it either. But let me tell you a little story about what happened behind Door # 2.

Sometimes, when you’re a new kid on the block in a new city like New York, everything looks new to you. And so say, for example, you are running to Ace Hardware on 1st Ave to get some steel wool to block holes in your floor from letting Pete the Pet House Mouse come have his way in your kitchen… And you come home from said errand, fairly preoccupied with ways to rid your new home of rodents no matter how small and eerily similar to your childhood pet gerbils they might seem.

And you unlock the first door to your building, unlock the second door to your building, climb up the 4 flights of stairs (which you’ve convinced yourself is your built-in gym in efforts to not be bitter about the lack of elevator) with steal wool weapons in hand, and arrive (a bit winded from the stair master workout) to home sweet home. Apartment #7.

You stick the keys into the door lock, but no turning happens. What? How is your key already broken? You better email your landlord Sol about this.

So you keep jabbing and wiggling the key into the lock wondering if Sol’s parents had named him after Pine-Sol or Solomon, until you hear it… Jabbing and wiggling coming from the other.. side.. of the.. lock.

WHAT the?

And you realize the only logical explanation is that Pete the Pet House Mouse has grown into a giant rat with opposable thumbs while you were gone and decided to lock you out to have Thanksgiving Dinner come early.

BUT!! To your GREATEST SHOCK, the door flings open revealing a disheveled NYU college boy in nothing but his whitey tighties who grunts out a “Uhhhh, oh I thought you were my roommate.”

“Oh sorry, I think I…” and you cut yourself off as you stare in confusion around the living room wondering WHY ON EARTH this college boy has invaded your home.

“Uhhh I mean you can be my roommate if you want,” confused Whitey Tighties says in a desperate and pathetic attempt at a pick-up line.

No thanks, 19 year old. I’ll let you get back to your Halo game, you say to yourself. Even though there’s a part of you that still thinks he may be the one in the wrong apartment. Finally it hits you as you look out the hall window to see the center courtyard has shifted off center. And the aha moment unfolds….

YOU’RE IN THE IDENTICAL TWIN BUILDING NEXT DOOR THAT YOU NEVER EVEN KNEW EXISTED UNTIL RIGHT NOW.

So ladies and gentlemen the moral of this story is… Be careful of living in buildings who have identical twins with downstairs door locks that work with both sets of keys because you never know who just might be lurking in your twin apartment and doing this around it all day long.