New York, New Porkers..

Because that's what we were - all of us. We ate and drank our way around this amazing city. One day we had two lunches...why? Because we could!

No excuses, hands held up in surrender - we were piggies and porkers - no dish was safe, no restaurant untouched. We came, we saw and we ate New York out of house and home.

There was another reason we were there. To film for a Food Network show which will be screened next year....It's a special British show of a very popular and high rating American food series and we're, not allowed to tell you any more - you'll just have to wait and see!

We all got on so well, having never met before. And we all loved the fact that each was a foodie and so therefore every day was a pilgrimage to the hallowed ground of a food venue, and of course, this involved vast amounts of food..and perhaps a smidgen of wine.

We ate at The Standard in the old meat packing district, Red Cat in Chelsea, Carnegies ... somewhere near Time Square I think, A snitzel street food truck, and The Lamb's Club.
Then of course there was the walk around Union Square Farmer's Market and the stroll across Brooklyn Bridge. We had snacks and copious amounts of fresh mint tea - a Tristan special as we now like to call it. Really, don't ask!
We were spectacularly looked after by the lovely Jess (travel mummy) and wined and dined by Nick Thorogood, both from Food Network UK.
A truly fabulous time was had by all and this week, just doesn't have the same feeling about it. Where is my hourly meal? Why is there no traffic noise and bustling bodies skirting around each other in a hurry to get somewhere, and with such purpose?

As I sit and write this, the only sound is that of a howling gale outside my office window and of my ridiculous cat Honey who has decided it's time to be fed. There are no New Yorkers enquiring as to where my accent is from. No one is telling me to have a good day... and I'm hungry... for a large portion of something naughty, indulgent and American - and probably covered in cheese.
I want to be back in the city that never sleeps....and yes, it really doesn't - I know that from experience now, because as I ever so casually slipped/stumbled out of the 'Please Don't Tell' speakeasy bar somewhere in the city - at 'lord knows a clock'(it was a little hazy!) the streets were still busy with revellers, dog walkers, street cleaners and rubbish collectors. This bar was incredible and fabulously cool, and you can only get to it from inside a Hot Dog joint...and then through a secret door in a fake telephone box! We ate squidgy hotdogs and drank friendly cocktails here after we filmed the show.
So, here are the photos...far too many to label, but suffice to say, you can see we had a glorious time.

Finally, I'd like to introduce you to the boys...via their nicknames...ones which we devised during the trip.
Sir Henry - easier to pronounce than his real name after a couple of cocktails!

Count Juan Carlos - easier to say than his real name - sober!
We all get it wrong.

Street Boy - Because he sells stonking pies....on the street markets...duh!

Pudding - Because it suits me - hopefully not due to the size of my bum, but more to do with my love of making a pud!

Enjoy.

xxx