Culture on the Cheap
Dining Al Fresco: Greenpoint Vs. Bushwick
One late Saturday afternoon at Suydam Street at Central Avenue…
Miss Heather: What IS that?
Mr. Heather: I think it is the hip bone for some large animal… oh wait…
Miss and Mr. Heather (in unison): IT’S A PIG HEAD!!!
Alas poor Porkrick, I knew him well.
Note the super-sized bottle of Heineken in the background. Nothing washes down a mouldering pig head like a tall frosty brewski. Yum. All my husband had to say about this find, however, was as follows:
I am sort of disappointed they didn’t boil the head and make head cheese. This is kind of wasteful.
My husband is a man after his time. His personal habits (including religiously using FOUR SQUARES OF TOILET PAPER— no more, no less— TO WIPE HIS ASS) would have acclimatized him to the Great Depression smashingly. I, on the other hand, have more epicurean tastes. I give this meal five stars for presentation and overall ambiance (it is far superior to Williamsburg’s paltry chicken heads), but the lack of dessert knocks it down to four stars overall.
Miss Heather knows fine dining when she sees it. And see it I do on McGuinness Boulevard. Often.
Today’s five star dining experience hails from Chez McGuinness, AKA: the tree pit just south of Freeman Street.
First course: Colt 45
Second course: Colt 45
Third course: Pepperoni
And what would such a fine meal be without dessert and a digestif? Thankfully, the chef was thoughtful enough to place them in a tree pit immediately adjacent to courses 1-3.
Cookies and Colt 45:
…works every time!