Mayahuel  [Click the photo above to go to  Mayahuel’s website]

 340 East 6th Street (between 1st and 2nd Avenue), New York, NY 10003

 Thirsty Thursday! I had dinner plans at Mayahuel last night. Resies (reservations) were at 9:30 so that meant I could squeeze the gym in, woohoo! KILLED IT, but I have a little cough, so I had to retire after my cough went a little wacky on the bike. Peace gymmy.

 Ordered 2 miso soups (30 cals eachhhhh) and some sushi pieces so I wasn’t cray cray before drinks. 9:30, pshh, a snack/dinner was inevitable.

 Emailed myself the address to Mayahuel and then I hit the road. The restaurant is a weird black building with some sort of Spanish architecture so I figured that was the place.

 I told the taxi driver the address and when he pulled up he said “yeah I think that’s it. It’s a bar.”

 I actually really liked him. We talked about the weather…but he was eating the WORST smelling sandwich. Sir, c’mon. Turkey. Go with turkey next time.

 Some weird bouncer/skinny man is standing outside and I asked him, “what is the name of this place?”


“Oh ok great”

“Do you have a reservation?”

“I’m not sure. I think so I think it’s under my friend’s name.” I then give his name.

“Oh, ok just let me see your ID” (makes me feel young again)

 When I walk in my friend is wearing a leather jacket so thank G-d I last minute vetoed mine otherwise we would have looked like Grease Lightning up in this joint. One leather jacket is fine…two is a statement.

 Menu looks like a small book from Colonial times, so I was a little overwhelmed. We decided to just ask the waiter what he recommended. And he was a ridiculous human if I’ve ever seen one. He looked like he was trying too hard to be casual, like ”I’m not really your waiter, but I’ll take your order” sorta deal…shaggy hair, a cartilage piercing (im sorry what? this isn’t in the 90s…where is your hemp necklace?) and he gave crazy descriptions of the drinks…stop playing with your hair and recommend a drink dude.

 I ordered the “hit or miss,” and I swear I originally thought the waiter was saying the “hit or miss” was either a hit or a miss…and I was just like why the eff would I want a drink that’s usually a hit or a miss? It ended up being really good…I had 3. That’s completely reasonable right? They were spicy, which I always give a fab rating for.

 “You have a great smile.” GUILTY AS CHARGED.

 “Should we order something? You do have a food blog.” (this blog is really working out)

 Ordered the fried stuffed plantains. There were 6 (in my head of course: so three for me and three for him. That’s reasonable. G-d forbid I ate four and he ate two. Blasphemy.)

 YUM! Tried to eat like a lady, but I might have finished my portion before him.

 “I read your blog.”

“You did? Did you think it was funny? Did you laugh out loud? Too girly?” (I am completely secure with my writing style)

“I read the Employees Only one.”

“Oh, because you were in it?”

 Yep, let’s talk about how I portrayed you in my blog. I don’t feel weird at all about it. How can I type a story for the blog if all I talk about is the blog? I’m gonna talk about the process of me writing the blog on the blog…that’s boring.

 A few drinks in and nature was calling. As I got up to use the restroom I knocked into our table and the people next to us stared at me…they actually stared at us the entire meal, and I really wanted to just be like, “MIND YA BUSINESS” (instead I pretended it wasn’t a big deal that I wasn’t skinny enough to fit between the tables and sauntered to the bano.)

I got back from the bathroom at the perfect time…it was time for dessert. CHURROS…o’lay. Fried dough, cinnamon, in a chocolate and caramel dipping sauce. HOW DISGUSTING? NOT.

The cinnamon was starting to aggravate my cough, and I kept digging into my bag like an 85 year old woman for cough drops.

 “Are you sick?”

Nope, just a weirdo who digs for candy between sips of alcohol and bites of food.

Time to leave before my cough causes the restaurant to be quarantined.

 “Do you want to walk?”

UH…I wore some sort of a heel, and my hair doesn’t just dry like this, it’s also misting out.

 “We’re like 30 blocks away…” (ok 20 whose counting)

 “I like to walk.”


 “Ok, lets hail a cab”

Mayahuel (fried plantains stuffed with cheese)

I didn’t think I’d love this as much as I did. savory sweet combo, and then I dipped it in the spicy sauce…unreal.

Mayahuel (churros in a chocolate and caramel sauce)

DELICIOUS. Sugary dessert probably doesn’t go amaze with a spicy drink, but I mean you can suck it up.

Mayahuel (“hit or miss” is the one closest to the front, and I forgot the other one…sorry!)

YUMMY. I’ll say it once, I’ll say it twice, spicy drinks are the best!