Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Coney Island, Nathan's, and Du Mont in Brooklyn

After breakfast, 

Robyn and I headed to BK.  We were going to meet up Brett Harmon and Mark Steffen to enjoy a relaxing day at Coney Island.  

We stopped by Ella's bar where she gave us bagels.  New Yorkers pride themselves on their bagels.  The west doesn't know anything about this.  

We found parking at the busy place and before heading to the packed beach we stopped by Nathan's.  While in line, a woman in front of us overheard Brett's recommendation that we avoid hot-dogs.  Her hard Long Island accent came in refuting whatever advice we received and began telling us the history, of how Nathan started off with a cart and now turned into this.  She spoke proudly of how far along New York has came from its grimey hey day, to the tourist attraction it is now.  

We had a crab sandwich.  

I tanned, the white people sunburned, and we dipped in the Atlantic ocean, even though, Brett had talked about how disgusting and dirty the water was.  I used to BodyBoard in High school and had been out in the Pacific after a rainy day when all of the water from the gutters drain into the ocean leaving green toxic looking bubbles.  If I was able to survive that, I could survive Coney Island, Atlantic water.  

Luckily, in Brett's car we drove through Brooklyn on Coney Island, through the Flatbush, and past the Jew communities.  Men in black suits, curly sideburns, and fury cylinder hats crossed the streets.  Their wives with wigs close by, since it was a part of their religion to shave the women's heads after childbirth.    

A few days later I was blading a spot and saw a woman who looked gorgeous, and I thought of how good her hair looked.  She later returned with kids and her husband that was a jew.  It all made sense as to why her hair was awesome, it was a wig.  

We headed to DuMont, a fascade of a bar that had restaurant seating in the back.  It was like a secret garden.  Walk to the back and through the white hallway, mirrors on the left, bathrooms on the right, it led directly into another entrance.  At the end laid a wooden deck, a room full of people, ceiling plants hung.  The restaurant had an interesting menu with rabbit as the special and skate (stingray).  This is food I can identify with and an atmosphere I was more comfortable in.  

I even had hit-a-chino beer.  In L.A. the mexicans would have thought this was a great name which in slang means; to hit an asian (chino). 

Brett insisted that we try the crabcake with guacamole sauce.  Charred pineapple to accompany the dish that had the under my chin zing with the moist crab interior.  

I ordered the morel mushroom pasta, black carrots, and rabbit.  The black carrots threw me off.  They weren't as sweet as regular carrots were.  My first encounter with the root.  The pasta was different also.  The rabbit was shredded along with the pasta and the cream sauce was delicious.  On this trip I learned a new appreciation for morels as I saw them in their peak of the season.  

I tried the other dishes that my friends got, a hamburger which was juicy.  Brett ordered the skate which was served with mashed potatoes and was really delicious.  In my culinary endeavors in California, skate is not a common item on menus, so I felt like I was getting a New York exclusive. 

At the dinner table I also learned that Mickey's 40oz.'s had no place on the East.  Maybe, its a westcoast thing?  

Took a 40 of Budweiser and caught up with some good folks while pre-gaming before the bar.  At the bar it was a dance-off.  Then there was the traditional Mark Steffen crowd surf.  I actually missed it.  It always seems to happen when I'm with Mark.  Birthday or not, if there's a group of drunk friends he's getting surfed amongst his homies and dropped once he gets passed to a stranger.  

On our way to the bar, I saw this.  I took a picture in hopes of being able to return and blade this, but, I never got around to coming back.  One day...