July 29, 2012

A good knish

Knishes and more. Much more.
I remember when there were knish wagons everywhere on the streets of NYC. This was back in the days when reality was in black and white. Perhaps there still are knish wagons on every corner. I don't know since I live in the woods these days.

I always wanted a knish. From the first day I saw one, I wanted it. You'd think this would work out for me, but it didn't. I'd buy one and hate it. Couldn't even eat it; threw it away. But this encounter didn't diminish my urge to eat knishes. So I bought them again and again -- but it always ended the same way. It seems I don't like knishes.

Even at Ratner's, the Jewish restaurant on 2nd Avenue, I didn't like the knishes. (Frankly, everything at Ratner's was a little too clean and pure for me. I like grease with my breakfast, thank you.) But still, my knish situation didn't change. I wanted one.

I would kill for a good knish this morning.


cm said...

Sometimes they are too dry. I like when they heat them up and then slice them open and put a bunch of hot mustard in there. The plain potato ones that is. Then there are the round ones with spinach inside. Those can be delish too. Now I'm hungry.

writenow said...

You gotta bring me one next time you come over.

cm said...

I'll make it my mission to find a good place.