Eataly

200 5TH Avenue, New York, NY 10010

I know most people’s idea of Sunday Funday is getting drunk and watching sports at a bar, but my idea of a Sunday Funday is way different. My male bff is a wonderful chef, and I like to go for food adventures with him on Sundays especially when it’s nice out (good strolling weather). It’s literally the perfect Sunday: I get exercise (walking burns fat ppl), I get to be involved with food without spending any money, and I get to pretend he’s my boyfriend (he does not like the lady variety), while we walk arm in arm throughout the city. It’s pretty much a win win for me. Did I mention it was also the Oscars? SUNDAY FUNDAY

He decided his Sunday meal was going to be veal scallopine (sure whatever makes your meat loaf), so off we went to the Whole Foods in Chelsea. Unfortunately they had no veal medallions for my Sunday lover, and we needed to explore other options…

Having never been to Eataly I immediately suggested it for this veal medallion excursion. Eataly is not exactly for the el cheapo weapos, and my friend..well hes pretty effing cheap so I was SHOCKED when he agreed to purchase his meat there.

SCORE! I could explore Eataly without eating anything, and I could get a legitimate tour from my fake boyfriend. Apparently I was not the only one who thought Eataly would be a great place to go for a Sunday, because it was PACKED. We blew past the gelato line, hurried through the bakery section, scurried past the fish and caviar section, but no dice with the homemade pasta section. I ooh’d. I ah’d. Hinting in the worst possible ways that maybe we should ditch the veal and go for some good old fashioned pasta.  “HAVE YOU EVER MADE PASTA BEFORE? ARE YOU GOING TO GET SOME? IT LOOKS GREAT..” I screamed as he dragged me to the meat counter (can’t blame a gal for trying).

The people behind the counter were super helpful and friendly, the customers not so much. In an approximate two minute span 3 snippy male patrons screamed “I WAS HERE FIRST,” while I got pummeled by a shopping basket. “Excuse me!” they yelled. YEAH EXCUSE YOU! I immediately wanted to be returned to my homeland, the pasta section. I then got sidetracked as I saw a pizza station in the back “have you ever made pizza before?” I asked. I was like an eight year old with attention deficit disorder learning fractions for the first time.

To my pal’s delight, they not only pounded the veal for him, they also charged him for veal liver instead of veal medallions (“IT’S HALF THE PRICE” he screamed. I thought he was going to have a heart attack. Relax it’s not like they gave us a free cheese platter. Now THAT’S something to shout from the rooftops)

Now that we had what we came for it was time to pay. NOT SO FAST. I’M NOT DONE HERE. Off we went to the cheese section. “ooooh” I screamed as I saw stacked blocks of cheese the size of  fire logs. I went to touch it to make sure it wasn’t a mirage, and it definitely was not, because grease was suddenly smeared all over my hand. EW GROSS. I look up to see a sign that says, “Display. Please Do Not Touch” TOO LATE.

We then checked out the produce section. He was really having trouble with what mushrooms to cook with this veal. GET THEM ALL. GET THEM ALL. He browsed, but then decided he’d check out Chelsea Market without me to get the rest of his supplies. It was perfect: I went home and watched the Live Red Carpet special, while my friend slaved away in the kitchen. Like I said..SUNDAY FUNDAY!

http://eatalyny.com/

Eataly (pasta section)

Eataly (cheese section)

Eataly (meat section)

I stole these pictures, because I was too overwhelmed to even think about taking pictures for this post. Please do not judge me.

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