Lunch 6-25: Chickn’d
Monday, June 25th, 2007Lately I’ve taken a liking to this fancy bakery/cafe near work, in Hell’s Kitchen, called Amy’s Bread.
The place serves the exact fare, at the exact ( outrageous) prices as my old place of employment, Metropolitan Bakery in Philadelphia. This is perhaps why I go there. Last week I ventured inside, came away with a tiny (but delicious) mozzerella sandwich on olive ficelle, a very delicious oatmeal raisin cookie, and a coffee, but lost about $9 in the deal. Today I resolved to go back to Amy’s Bread and find something delicious that wouldn’t run me more than $5. Success: the soup and roll cost $4.88 with tax. I opted for the delicous-sounding Creamy Tomato, eagerly awaiting the moment when I could sit in the playground on 47th st. (where I eat my lunch, weather permitting) when to my dismay I noticed a little sign behind the register with the soup’s ingredients.
Foolishly, I had forgotten to ask/observe whether or not the soup was vegetarian. It wasn’t. And as I walked away from the register with my warm little bag of lunch, I decided that a little chicken stock won’t kill me and I already bought the stuff anyway. Plus it also had orzo in it, my favorite kind of pasta for putting in soup. If the chef had the insight to add orzo, s/he must have enough sense to know when chicken stock is really necessary.
And so, head hung with bad-vegetarian shame, I sat down at the little park and consumed the delicious creamy tomato soup with orzo and a whole wheat French roll, while an insubordinate child ran around throwing those little paper poppers all over the place despite the half-hearted protests of his pillhead rich mother. She mostly tuned him out and chatted with a few of her equally negligent friends on a neighboring bench. I would have accompanied the meal with a few pages of
but did not want to drip the red, chickeny soup on Dan’s nice new book that he lent me.
Now I’m back at my desk, wondering whether or not I’ll develop a stomachache, diarrhea, or worse, that two-day appendix/spleen soreness that I got last time I “accidentally” ate a BLT.
