It's like Christmas, only with cheese

Woke up this morning, not so hungry. No surprise...

Ate a little breakfast and then had mostly pretzels and water the rest of the day and then Bet wanted to go to Harlem for dinner. She kept saying "doesn't chicken and waffles just sound amazing??"

So I tell her to research a couple of places, since I had to work, and we met at the subway station and trekked up to Harlem.

It's very weird to be the minority in the space of 10 minutes. Such a dramatic shift from one subway stop to another.

So we're walking around and I'm acutely conscious of being completely out of my element. Whereas Bet is wandering around wide-eyed, pointing out the architecture, telling me little stories about the Harlem Renaissance and generally acting like it ain't no thing... How great is that?

The first place we tried was closed - the M&G Diner - but the second place was sensational, Sylvia's on 127th and Lennox.

We had barbequed ribs and fried chicken with mashed potatoes and collard greens and macaroni and cheese with Harlem beer, called Sugar Hill. Neither of us could even finish our food, I think we might still have been suffering from the eat fest of yesterday (though I did forget to mention that we spent several afternoon hours between meals in The Strand, the largest bookstore in the nation boasting 18 miles of books on 4 floors. And frankly, looking at books is hungry work... So it wasn't all eating. It was eating and reading and walking and more eating and then talking about the eating and reading...)

Anyway, we had to try dessert (it's soul food! You have to have dessert!) so we had the homemade banana pudding, which was good but not great. Needed more wafers... And then as we're sitting around the table letting our food setttle I suggested maybe another beer? and Bet wanted to go to The Sullivan Lounge, a landmark neighborhood bar. So two white girls walk into a Harlem bar... which sounds like it should be the beginning of a joke.

Tiny little bar, all painted turquoise blue and decked out with blue and white streamers and balloons and silvery tinsel and wall to wall photographs of every famous person who had ever walked in the bar. P. Diddy, Rev. Al Sharpton, Dizzy Gillespie, Bird Parker, etc. etc. etc. Crazy place and they weren't expecting us. The bartender - Bobo - a tall statuesque woman with the longest fire engine red nails asked us what we wanted to drink. And I'm thinking low-key, we've already caused enough of a fuss, just get a drink and sit around quietly. But my lovely little sister is looking around - wide eyed - and asking for all these drinks that the bartender either doesn't know how to make, doesn't have the ingredients to make or just doesn't want to make. Finally I said "I think I'll have a Heinekin." and the bartender just looks at me with relief and says "thank God! I like you already!"

Finally Bet ordered a corona and watching the bartender try to stuff the lime slice in the top without getting her nail stuck in the lime and jerking it back out, well, that was funny :) So the girl next to us strikes up a conversation and people come and go and occasionally there's a small group of men outside the window peeking in at the white girls in the bar but overall it was totally cool and without any drama.

So then we came home and ate cheese. Well, we made a brief stop at the Empire State Building but decided that $18 on a cloudy night was too much to pay for the observation tower so we looked at the commerative plaque and then...left.

And then ate cheese.

Bet is taking some cheese with her. Chris, enjoy!