Shortly after my sister’s first trip to New York, I sent her a text message asking her what she thought of my (then) soon-to-be-adopted-city. Her response? “The sandwiches are huge”.
Maybe it’s not the first thing that they put in the guidebooks, but it’s fair to say that excess is a central part of life in New York and America. And never more so than when you go to the
flicks cinema theatre theater.
Yesterday, The Special One and I joined the Gourmet Godmother to catch an afternoon showing of (the Best Picture Oscar winning) No Country For Old Men. Now, when you’re going with two women to see a film with (the Best Supporting Actor Oscar winning) Javier Bardem, it’s always best that you get snacks to take your mind off the dribbling that’s taking place in your immediate vicinity. The fact that he looked like a psychotic pageboy with serious anger management issues is apparently neither here nor there to the female population.
Aware of the scale of the problem, I made a beeline for the
kioskconcession stand and opted for a large popcorn and a large Coca Cola. One mortgage later, and I was in possession of what appeared to be a industrial-sized keg of fizzy soft drink, and enough popcorn to cover all the small playgrounds of America in order to cushion accidental falls and wipe out knee grazes in an instant.
I swear that I ate popcorn near-constantly throughout the 122 minutes of the movie, and that by the end there was still more than three quarters of a bag left. This was despite being told by the employee who served me my food that I could return for a free refill of either popcorn or drink at any point. That’s like breaking the world record for most hot dogs eaten in a three-hour period, and being rewarded for your victory with double your own body weight in hot dogs.
As it was, I spent most of the evening going to a restaurant
toiletbathroom attempting to rid my body of the entire lake of soft drink that I had inexplicably managed to consume. Given the number of visits that I made to the men’s room, I’d imagine that the vast majority of my fellow diners assumed I had a coke problem, rather than a problem with Coke™.
I’m only just coming down from the caffeine high now, more than twenty four hours later.
Incidentally, watching the Oscars this evening, The Special One asked if Marion Cotillard had won the Best Actress award for playing ‘Edith Pilaf’.
The movies and food can’t be separated in America, it would seem.