To market to market

            Once upon a time, in the days when I used to have cable television, I would easily spend hours on end with my eyes glued to The Food Network like it was my religion. Even if I didn't have time to actually sit down and watch the television, it was always living in the background to keep me company. It felt like I had Mario Batali, Rachael Ray and Marc Summers as my houseguests and constant companions every day. Eventually I learned to live without cable so that I could save a little money and be more productive with my time, but it wasn't easy and I certainly had my withdrawals. If I ever found myself at a friend's house or whenever I would visit my parents, they were never surprised when they would leave the room and come back to find Emeril Lagasse throwing spices on their television screen. Sorry, I couldn't help myself, the food just looked so amazing. I'll have better control next time, pinky-swear. Then I'd sheepishly switch it back to the news or the game and daydream of cloudy days making summer veggie soup by the window.

            Yesterday I woke up missing my friends on The Food Network and was longing for a good hearty breakfast. Although, when I opened my fridge the only thing I had looking back at me was a half gallon of water, a pint of blueberries that I bought on my way home from work late last night, and a bunch of condiments that have probably expired months ago. It was time to go to market. I figured, if I had to pick up a few things to get me through the week, why not make it an adventure? I decided then that I would go to the famed Chelsea Market, where many of The Food Network stars have been known to do their food shopping and also where a few of them have their own restaurants. It was like killing two birds with one stone, bad for the birds, great for me. Who knows, maybe I would run into Rachael Ray and she could score me some tickets to her show if I helped her carry groceries. Lord knows I've been trying to get a spot in her audience for months and no dice so far. I'll find you Rachael Ray and your little tickets too.

            What I was expecting to find when I reached Chelsea Market was something in the vicinity of a large outdoor farmers market full of fresh fruits, vegetables, fish and baked goods. What it actually was, was a mall for food lovers with one clothing store at the front entrance, which affronted me at first, and a bookstore at the other entrance, all living on the first level of a large red brick building. The interior design of the mall looked like you were walking through the underground tunnels of New York City, only cleaner and shinier. I think they set it up that way to delude tourists into thinking they were entering an urban clothing shopping center then assailed them with a variety of food that would have their heart stop in mid beat and their chins double in size just looking at all of the rich and exotic foods they offered.

            The very first place I saw, once I passed the clothing boutique, was this quaint little cupcake shop called Eleni's. With a splattering of hot pink everywhere and little cupcakes adorned with puffy swirls of different colored frosting, it looked like a girl's cupcake dream come true. I walked out with the most picturesque red velvet cupcake I ever saw. It looked so perfect it appeared almost fake. However, I seemed to have misjudged the book by its cover, because when I took a bite out of it I was sadly disappointed. It just didn't compare with the very best red velvet cupcake I ever had, which came from its competitor who had a space just down the way called Amy's Bread. The frosting killed it. As nice as it looked, it lacked the light cream cheese frosting I love the most about the cupcakes. Oh, well, I thought I'd give it a try. No red velvet cupcake has been able to beat Amy's yet, but the search continues.

            Walking through the Manhattan Fruit Exchange, I was encompassed by a rainbow of bright, vibrant colors in every corner. Rows of perfectly ripe fruits and vegetables lay about that even the fussiest child would have wanted a bite. My mouth instantly dribbled with saliva and my stomach simultaneously erupted in a battle for sustenance that mere mushy blueberries could not suffice. Come to mama. I walked out a half hour later with nearly a month's worth of fresh fruits, vegetables and herbs. When I'll actually have the time to cook, let alone eat any of this, I don't know, but it would be there if I need it and I can eat most of it raw and on the go if I have to.

            The Lobster Place was the next establishment that caught my eye. Throw any seafood in my line of vision and I'll likely take a nibble at it like a whale. As soon as I opened the double glass doors, it was like I took a deep-sea dive into the blue beyond and was breathing under warm water. The smell of fresh boiled lobster and clams had me hankering for something of a crustacean kind. Then I came across a row of steamy soups simmering in their kettles and there it was, the soup of my dreams, lobster bisque. I haven't had good lobster bisque in years. Now was my chance. I ladled a bowl full, grabbed me some soft shell crab rolls, a limonata to drink and scooted out with my purchases.

            When I found a spot to sit at a table, I made myself comfortable and one by one I spread my lobster bisque, soft crab roll, limonata and the last of my cupcake in front of me like a small buffet. As soon as I took the top off of the lobster bisque my nose nearly did a somersault and dived right into the bowl. At the table next to me sat a mother with her two young boys taking a breather from the heat outside. The youngest of the two boys seemed just as impressed with my food as I was because the second I began to dig into my buffet, he kept wandering over to my table whenever his mother was distracted, to watch me eat. I would have offered the little guy some of my food but I wasn't so sure how he would react to seafood. With my luck he would have either choked on it or had an allergic attack that would have him taking a little tour of the local hospital to check off his sightseeing list.

            Full to the brim with the delicacies that I bought earlier and excited about the wholesome dinner I planned to cook later, I gave up on running into Rachael Ray and just hoped I would find an invitation to attend her show in my inbox when I got home. Fingers crossed.