Smoothies and juices. Juices and smoothies. Over the last few years, this new health trend has seemingly taken over America. Which is good, because America is fat as fuck.
My decision to lose weight was pretty anti-climactic. It wasn’t some bogus New Years resolution, it wasn’t to get boys to like me, and it wasn’t because my doctor would give me one-sheeters about “making healthy choices” after every physical.
Since mid-January, I’ve been living a no simple carb, no processed foods life (except on Saturdays, and it is epic). Because of this, I’m constantly eating produce and almost always make a salad for lunch. In my case, salad is really just a general term for whatever is in my veggie drawer + protein + leftover scraps I have from dinners that week.
Angela: It was a humid Saturday, and myself, my boyfriend and my twin, Jackie, were on the hunt for a cheap thrill and free chips on a table. What we found was Paisano. Boasting authentic Mexican / Gautemalan cuisine and $4.99 margaritas, we took our chances and headed to the popular Waltham establishment at 233 High Street.
Join us for Exploria, a new series that essentially lets three local lushes take to the streets and find out what’s so special about this melting pot of western Queens we call home. This week we tackle Sanfords Restaurant – a 75-year-old establishment and one of the hottest brunch spots on Broadway.
Cheap recipes from a small kitchen somewhere in the NYC metropolitan area.
I’d venture to guess most 20-somethings within my financial bracket know the truth about this neighborhood once jokingly referred to as “the retirement community”: it’s filled with douchebags.
COLIN: You know my feelings on brunch. Particularly, brunch on a Sunday. I hate to be the designated driver of the Sunday Funday set, but boys (and bois) and girls (and grrrls), let’s be realistic. Do you really want to wake up at 8:30 p.m. sweaty and cotton-mouthed, with home fries in your hair, wondering where your phone is and why your roommate is hanging half out of the bathroom, clutching a crumbly tube of Ritz crackers to her chest?
ANGELA: “Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” Or, if you’re Colin and me, of all the delicious restaurants in all of New York City, we walked into the Village Crabhouse.