Out of town report: The Monk Room (Newark)


After Beauty & Essex in NYC, I headed back to Newark with my sister and brother-in-law to their apartment, where I passed out on the air mattress in their living room. The following morning, I woke up to the sound of my brother-in-law coming into the kitchen. I groggily asked him what time it was and was shocked when he replied, “11:30!” Eleven thirty??!!!! I never sleep in the late! It felt absolutely glorious knowing that I had over ten hours of sleep in my system. I guess lugging that giant weekender all over lower Manhattan had really exhausted me. My sister came out a few minutes later and we decided to head to their favorite pizza spot a few blocks away for lunch before I had to go back into the city to meet up with friends.

The Monk Room opened up on the other side of the Prudential Center about a year and a half ago, with a small and concise menu of Italian dishes. My sister and B raved about this place, which I consider a great sign, especially since pizza is not really my sister’s favorite kind of cuisine. I, on the other hand, was totally ready to house another pizza after my restful night of sleep. When we arrived, the bartender informed us that the dining room was not yet open, so we would have to sit at the bar.
The restaurant is brightly lit with the large windows which made up slightly for the lack of outdoor seating. We sat down at the bar and chatted up the bartender while waiting for the kitchen to finish setting up. The friendly bartender was nice enough to bring us out a plate of the restaurant’s mozzarella to sample. The house-made cheese is served with sundried tomatoes and fresh basil, and tastes fresh and creamy.
FullSizeRender (1)
For her main dish. my sister decided to get the Bootzin pasta dish, which consisted of fresh orecchiette, tomatoes, fennel sausage, cherry peppers, olives, parmigiano reggiano, basil, and fennel pollen. She approved of the al dente pasta and fragrant toppings. My brother-in-law went with the Meatball Sandwich, which came out on a toasted roll. He also enjoyed this, and said the slightly spicy meatballs, sharp pecorino cheese, and soft bread were a good combination. I knew that I wanted a breakfast pizza (clearly having a pizza less than 18 hours ago had done nothing to quell my pizza cravings), and went with the Carbonara, which was topped with guanciale, parmigiano reggiano, roasted egg, parsley, black pepper, and extra virgin olive oil. The roasted egg was a little overcooked for my taste; I love when the egg on a pizza is slightly running so that I can spread it all over and enjoy the additional creaminess the yolk adds. Despite this, the pizza was a very good, mostly due to the guanciale. Guanciale is probably one of my favorite cured meats (comes from the pig’s jowel), especially when the fat has been rendered and the meat becomes extremely crispy. The strips of smoky pork cheek on this pizza were cooked exactly the way I prefer. The slightly sweet, yeasty thin crust help up well under the toppings and each bite of the pizza was a chewy, savory overload of flavors. Despite filling up after three slices, the combination of the salty guanciale and melted cheese on the charred crust was addictive and I did not stop eating until I had polished off the entire pie. Surprisingly, I did not have any room for dessert, despite the bartender’s insistence that their desserts are not to be missed. By that point, both my sister and I were leaning over in our chairs, trying to adjust our bodies in a way that allowed for faster digestion. When it comes to good pizza, my self control goes out of the window and this pizza definitely fell into that category.

Out of town report: Russ & Daughters (NYC)



Russ & Daughters has been providing Jewish “appetizers” in Manhattan’s Lower East Side since 1914. My ex-boyfriend first took me to Russ & Daughters last year when we went to NYC for a hazy, three day food and cocktail binge over Memorial Day Weekend. He had been raving about this spot for months, and when we finally entered the little shop, I could see why. The adorable tiny shopped is almost always packed with people, and has a retro vibe with gleaming white tiles, and giant glass display cases showcasing their fish salads, cream cheeses and cured fish. While I don’t actually think they have the best bagels (recommend Ess-a-Bagel for that), their cream cheeses and smoked salmon options are just incredible.

I was not planning on making a stop to Russ & Daughters during this trip. This changed when I woke up on Sunday morning in my friend’s East Village studio after an extremely long night celebrating our other friend’s birthday and engagement (!!!!). I set my alarm an hour before my scheduled departure so that I could walk down to Chinatown where my bus was taking off. I had a slight headache from the festivities, but felt relatively functional as I tossed my things together (into that same damn weekender). It was a beautiful morning, and a two mile stroll down 2nd Ave seemed like a nice way to start off the day. A few blocks in however, I started to feel hungry and my stomach was signaling to me that it needed something to soak up the remaining alcohol in my system. I debated going to Doughnut Plant (the absolute best place to get doughnuts in the world) before getting on the bus but I was in the mood for something more savory. I realized that I would be passing Russ & Daughters, and an everything bagel with their pastrami-cured salmon sounded absolutely perfect. When I got there at 9:30am on a Sunday morning, the shop was slightly quieter than usual, but I still was behind 12 other orders. This gave me a little bit of time to debate whether or not I should order a sandwich, but decided the best option was a classic: everything bagel, pastrami-cured salmon, lox cream cheese, onions, tomatoes, capers. The staff here are all clearly professional sandwich makers, and it is mesmerizing to watch them execute the orders by slowly slicing the salmon, angling the tomato, and carefully finishing everything off with a few capers (also I was slightly fading at this point due to hunger and slight dehydration so I basically could not do anything else besides stare).


I waited until I got into the bus to dive into my bagel, and could almost hear my stomach’s sigh of relief when I bite in. The combination of hearty carbohydrates with the salty fish and rich cream cheese was just what my body needed after the previous night’s combination of wine and champagne. The cream cheese is double-whipped, so it is fluffy and light, while the silky slices of salmon are slightly smokey and the onion is the perfect amount of tangy. I housed the first half of the sandwich quickly, and tried to chew the second half a little slower. It still disappeared faster than I wanted it to, but padded my belly enough to allow me to sprawl all over the seat next to me and pass out for a few hours. Overall, that bagel from Russ & Daughters was a great way to start my Sunday trip back to reality in DC.



*For people looking for more of a sit-down spot, Russ & Daughters recently opened up their cafe, located around the corner from their shop.

Out of town report: Emporio (NYC)


Last weekend, I made a quick trip to NYC to see my sister and some friends from college. I knew it would be a weekend of running around from spot to spot, which meant that I would basically be carrying all of my belongings with me almost at all times so I attempted to pack as lightly as possible since 1) I did not want to be profusely sweating the entire time and 2) I have weak arms. I boarded a 10am bus on Friday and was in Chelsea by 3pm afternoon. I had early dinner plans, but wanted to squeeze in some shopping beforehand since my Saturday was completely packed.  So after getting off the bus, my weekender bag and me made our way to East Village and Soho in search of summer clothing. After running around for a few hours, still with my weekender on my arm, sweating up a store (this could not be helped) and with sore shoulders, I had definitely worked up an appetite. I met up with my sister, my brother-in-law, and some of their friends at a small Italian restaurant in Nolita. Emporio opened in 2009 from the same team behind Aurora (in Williamsburg and Soho) and was inspired by a twenties-era Italian grocery. The restaurant is cozy and intimate, with wood walls and hand painted wallpaper. We were seated in the adorable back dining room, under a large glass ceiling.

For such a small spot, the menu at Emporio is fairly diverse, with numerous appetizers, cured meats, cheeses, handmade pastas, pizzas and grilled entrees. We started with two appetizers for the table to share: the Charred Octopus and the Prosciutto & Burrata. The Charred Octopus was perfectly grilled, and served over a romesco sauce, onion confit and fingerling potato salad. While it was delicious, I thought that $15 was a little hefty for this small serving. The Prosciutto & Burrata came on a large wooden board with several long slices of 18 month cured prosciutto, burrato, and three thick slices of bread with crushed tomato bruschetta. The slightly garlicky bruschetta tasted incredibly fresh, and the burrata was creamy. I spread the burrata on top of the crusty bread, topped it with the salty prosciutto and popped this perfect combination into my mouth.

Since I am still on a (now two month long) pizza kick, I decided to split a pizza with one of the girls. We went with the Speck & Mushroom pie with smoked scamorza, ricotta, and truffle oil because I’m going to pretty always take the truffle oil option if it is presented to me. The pizza came straight from the large wood-burning brick oven, and definitely large enough for two hungry girls to share. I was not disappointed with our order. The thin crust was crispy (some bites almost tasted cracker-like) and delightfully chewy. Most importantly,  the crust did not get soggy even as I picked up the last slice. Each bite was extremely aromatic, due to the mushrooms and the truffle oil. In addition, we ordered the Brussel’s Sprouts and Kale salad in an attempt to make our dinner slightly healthier. The lemon dressing was nice and light and complemented the slightly bitter greens well.

After the very satisfying second courses, it was time for us to move onto dessert. While I would have loved to order the Nutella turnover, I did not want to force my Nutella obsession on others (especially near strangers), so I tried to be too aggressive about ordering it. The group decided to go with two dishes to share: the Tiramisu, and the Vanilla Panna Cotta. Sharing two desserts among eight people meant we got about a bite of each dessert, which was the perfect sweet note to end our meal. Both of these desserts were delicious. The silky and delicate panna cotta was fragrant, while the tiramisu was velvety and indulgent. I would highly recommend Emporio to anyone looking for a solid Italian spot, especially for a date night since the cozy ambiance of the restaurant gives it a romantic feel and the expansive menu gives you the option for sharing dishes, or ordering your own.

Afterwards, we headed to Beauty & Essex in the Lower East Side for a drink, before we headed back to my sister’s place in Newark. The front of Beauty & Essex is set up as an old pawn shop, and you enter into the bar/lounge through a back door after walking through glass display cases in the shop (not sure if people ever actually buy anything in the pawn shop though). Even though it was still early on a Friday night, the bar was packed with well dressed people. I felt bad about constantly whacking everyone as I walked through the bar, especially since 90% of the women were in heels. Meanwhile, I was still in my bright red harem pants from earlier (that kind of look like silk pajama pants), with a day’s worth of sweat dried all over my body and a giant weekender over my shoulder. Definitely was not fooling anyone into thinking I was New Yorker. Beauty & Essex is pretty large, with two floors (with dining rooms and lounge areas on both) connected by a giant spiral staircase. Besides the sleek decor and dramatic crystal chandeliers, I was also impressed by the ladies’ room, which provides all the women waiting inside with free pink champagne. After staring at the champagne station for at least forty-five seconds like the out-of-towner that I am, I grabbed a glass of bubbly and went back out to rejoin the swanky crowd (still with that damn weekender on my shoulder). The free champagne was surprisingly good! I actually did not even feel like finishing it though, and passed it off to my brother-in-law, who is man enough to swig pink bubbly from a tiny flute. We decided to head across the river back over to Newark to their place not long afterwards, which meant I could finally put my bag down to rest for the night. Even though our time at Beauty & Essex was brief, it seemed like a fun spot to spend an evening. The next time I am back in NYC, I would not mind returning here for drinks (without the bag of course).


Recovery brunch at Old Ebbitt Grill (and etc)


Unlike the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon, the morning of the Cherry Blossom 10 mile race was absolutely beautiful outside. It was the perfect running weather: 50’s, sunny, with no breeze and not a single cloud in the sky. The course was flat and fast, and I ended up running over 30 seconds faster per mile pace than the half marathon. After the finish, I was full of adrenaline and endorphins, and after waiting for everyone else to finish, a group of us headed to Old Ebbitt Grill for a recovery brunch. Old Ebbitt is actually Washington, D.C.’s oldest bar, and is now owned and operated by the Clyde’s Restaurant Group. While I have enjoyed Old Ebbitt’s oyster happy hour, and perhaps have gotten tipsy off a few martinis at the bar (for some reason, all the taxidermy and wooden furniture inside make me feel like sipping on a martini instead of bourbon), I have never been there for brunch.

We got there around 10:30am, and since our reservations were made for 11:30am, we posted up at the bar upstairs to wait. By this point, I was getting relatively hungry so got a Blue Moon (instead of my normal go-to Bloody Mary) to start. We all realized by the time our name was called by the hostess an hour later that drinking on an empty stomach after racing ten miles meant that we were all starting to feel slightly buzzed. We were seated in the back, and our wonderful waiter, George, introduced himself to us. At this point, I felt like I needed some form of nourishment immediately and decided we needed to put in at least an appetizer. George suggested splitting the Breakfast Club, a fried French toast sandwich consisting of bacon, ham, strawberries, maple syrup. I mean, that obviously sounds like heaven in sammy form. We put in two orders of this, and I basically had to remind myself to keep breathing until I finally had food in my mouth (overdramatic much?). The sweet and savory combination of the Breakfast Club was amazing and I immediately felt like a new person as soon as I had some sugar in my blood again.

When it was time for us to put in our entree orders, I turned to George for some help. I was having a difficult time deciding between the Steak Frites, and the Fried Chicken and Waffles.  George recommended the Fried Chicken and Waffles, which I immediately ignored and told him I would be getting the Steak Frites. For some reason, I was feeling incredibly carnivorous, and intensely craving a giant piece of red meat. The Steak Frites came with a watercress salad and garlic French fries. I also requested some sriracha mayo to dip everything in. The steak was tender and definitely hit the spot. The watercress salad made me feel slightly less guilty about housing all of the French fries along with a bowl of spicy mayo (see picture above), and before I knew it my plate was almost completely empty. I looked around at the table and realized that everyone else had cleared their dishes fairly quickly as well. We all agreed that this was a great post-race brunch, with enough options to satisfy a diverse group of people.

With a slight buzz in our heads, and bellies full of food, SM and I decided to make the most of the beautiful weather outside and engage in some outdoor activities. By outdoor activities, I mean “day drinking.” We headed back to our apartments after brunch and I changed (not showered, just changed) into another pair of running shorts and threw on another tee shirt before walking over to the Standard beer garden (like the rest of DC residents, I still refuse to call it “Garden District”). Since it was still early at this point, we managed to find some seats and were joined by KBS and my old co-worker, Johanna. After a few refreshing beers here, we headed over to Barcelona Wine Bar where we grabbed a table on their patio. By this point, I was hungry again (of course), so in addition to some wine, we also put in a few orders for food: patatas bravas, the chorizo with sweet and sour figs (one my favorite tapas here), roasted cauliflower. In addition, the general manager, an incredibly good looking man I wish would break up with his 22 year-old trashy girlfriend so that one of my friends could date him (looking at you SM), sent over a few dishes: the grilled Iberian pork shoulder and the Tuscan kale salad. As usual, the chorizo with sweet and sour figs was delicious. The pork shoulder was incredibly tender and seemed to melt right into my mouth, and the hearty kale salad was the perfect light, spring dish with a citrus dressing and sharp white cheese. The patatas bravas and roasted cauliflower were also solid, but relatively unmemorable (maybe due to my second glass of wine at this point). While I have yet to be wowed by any meal that I have had at Barcelona, I love the ambiance, the staff and the patio here which makes me a repeat customer of this bar.

You would think that by this point, we would have given up on the daydrinking, but the incredible weather, and the high from running sub 7:45min/mile pace for the race was still in my head so after closing out our bill at Barcelona, we hopped on down to Pearl Dive to continue our Sunday Funday. After half of a beer here and a dead phone, I decided it was probably time to call it quits and go charge my phone, as well as give my legs a rest. The next day, I felt like I had been completely run over my a train. But it was one of those glorious Sundays where you are surrounded by friends, food, and sunshine so I would say the painful 30 hours that followed were completely worth it.

Introduce me, immediately

FullSizeRender (1)

About two summers ago, my boyfriend of 2.5 years and I broke up. In terms of break-ups, it was relatively painless, but break-ups still suck no matter what. That summer, I tried to get used to not just being “single” again, but more importantly being “alone” again. It was definitely hard adjusting to this new reality, and took a little bit of time for me to get used to. Towards the end of the summer, I was finally starting to feel like myself again. One evening, I was scrolling through Instagram and came across my friend Shay’s (a good guy friend who lives a few blocks away from me, and probably could be considered the king of social media in DC – I mean, seriously what kind of person gets 200 likes on average on a Instagram picture?! I’m just surprised when I get more than 6 likes, and feel the urge to bow when I get more than 8 likes) uploads from a party he recently attended with friends. The only guy I did not recognize in that picture was a stud. I took a screen shot of the photo and sent it to Shay, with the message, “WHO IS THAT?” That’s right, there was a little thirst going on there. Shay told me that the guy lived in NYC so I immediately forgot about that/him. Now let’s fast forward to a year and a half later.

On one of the first beautiful Saturdays of the spring, a friend decided to celebrate his birthday at Dacha, the beer garden located at 7th and Q. By the time Shay and I arrived, there was a line around the corner. Through some connections (not mine though, I have no valuable connections) we somehow managed to skip the 20 minute line and entered a completely packed patio full of good looking, well dressed white people. Seriously though, every time I have been to Dacha, I always notice how the entire place is 98% white. Also, everyone there is beautiful. We made it to the back area where the birthday boy was situated, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed an extremely good looking male. He looked relatively familiar, and after a few seconds of staring, I realized it was the guy I had frantically texted Shay about several summers ago. I grabbed one of my guy friend’s arms, pointed out the guy and said, “You need to introduce me to him…. immediately.” I literally made him stop his conversation, walk me over and introduce me to Stephan (name replaced in case someone reads this because I don’t want to come across like a total creep to him, yet). We started talking, and he told me that he had recently moved back to the area. I cannot remember exactly how this came about, but before we knew it we were talking about how ethnic babies are just so much cuter than Caucasian babies (COME ON YOU KNOW IT IS TRUE). In the words of Aziz Ansari, “white babies just look like people that haven’t ripened yet.” The next thing I knew, he was joking about marrying into my family so that we could have a couple of interracial kids. I stopped, stared at him and immediately responded, “Oh absolutely.” This started one long elaborate joke about marrying each other that involved us planning out our wedding, an explanation of our in-laws, and before I knew it, it was time for me to head out. We exchanged numbers, and I went to H street to meet the beautiful man, Larry. I honestly did not think I would hear from Stephan again, since there was no real substance to our conversation that afternoon, just a bunch of jokes about melding our families together for this giant imaginary wedding. However, the following morning I got a text from him during brunch continuing the joke about fictitious relationship:

FullSizeRender (1)

This was followed by tentative plans to hang out the following week. Now, I was totally down to see him again, but I could not tell if this was serious or not, since all of this was based on some fake romance. I decided to not think about it too much, and just wait to see if he would follow up on this date. Surprisingly, the following day he texted me to confirm our date.

FullSizeRender (2)

We decided to meet up at Lost & Found (right behind my apartment) the next night for happy hour. I headed over first, while he looked for parking (he had moved back to Alexandria from Brooklyn), and discovered that Lost & Found was totally packed so we went to A&D instead. A&D really is my favorite neighborhood bar. I love the chill vibe, the lighting, the drinks and the always-friendly bartenders. I ordered a beer and Stephan ordered a Manhattan, and we sipped on our drinks for the next three hours. The conversation was so easy that I did not realize how much time had passed. At 9:30pm, we decided that we were both starving, and closed out the tab a so that we could find some dinner. The fairly new location of Beau Thai was around the corner, and while that is my go-to for delivery Thai food, I had yet to try eating in the actual restaurant. We made our way over, complaining the entire time about the cold weather, and found the restaurant relatively empty. The design is beautiful, with high ceilings and wood furniture. We were seated by the window, with a view of 7th street.

We split two entrees: the Pad Se Ew with pork, and the Red Curry Duck. Pad Se Ew is one of my favorite Thai dishes because it is both simple and comforting. The Pad Se Ew at Beau Thai was solid: it was flavorful and rich, without being greasy. The noodles were soft and chewy and did not fall apart under the sweet sauce. The Red Curry Duck was also good.  It was spicy, slightly sour and sweet, with generous chunks of meat. The spiciness of chilies and lemongrass was balanced by rich coconut milk and roasted duck.

Side note: I really like sharing food with someone, and immediately give a guy 456908 points if we are compatible eaters. I think ordering food says a lot about your personality on a date, and I always pay attention to how our meal goes. If a guy is not a picky eater, if we have the same tastes in food, and if he likes sharing food, I find that incredibly appealing. Sharing food off of the same plates brings a different kind of intimacy to a date. Stephan was a great person to share a meal with! He is not a picky eater, made sure I was enjoying the food, and encouraged me to keep eating, even once he was done.

While I am attracted to Stephan, and I think that we have a lot in common, the biggest thing causing me hesitation is his schedule (and of course, the fact that I have irrationally placed Larry/the beautiful man on the world’s highest pedestal). He is moving to San Francisco in mid-May to open up the West Coast office of his start-up company. This is about a month away, and while I enjoyed spending time with him and could see myself liking him, I am not sure how I feel about getting attached to someone who is leaving. Now the easy thing would be to say, “don’t overthink it!” or “just take it slow!” That is definitely easier said than done with it comes to my brain, because I am not capable of not overthinking everything, and not wondering where things are going. Perhaps this is a good exercise for me, to hang out with someone who’s future is a big question mark. If nothing else, at least I potentially have someone to share food with for a few meals.

There is never a bad time for Donburi


Apparently, one of my criteria for my friends is that they must have an April birthday. April is full of birthday celebrations, and last Saturday I found myself with two birthday parties (disclaimer: normally I am not this popular) to attend. The second celebration was at Jack Rose, and I arrived around 6pm which was right in the middle of their rooftop Saturday happy hour ($5 beers, and $7 whiskey). As I have said before, I do not think there is one specific appropriate time for a bloody mary. This means 6pm on the Jack Rose rooftop is the perfect time in my opinion for some tomato juice and bourbon ( because bourbon > vodka when it comes to me and my bloodies, actually bourbon > vodka when it comes to life). After sucking down two of these, I found myself relatively buzzed and absolutely starving. This might have been due in part to my conversations with Jay, someone I always find myself discussing food with. I mentioned to him that I needed to eat, and he suggested leaving the bar in the middle of the celebration to grab some food in Admo, a neighborhood we both do not go to often. I suggested Donburi, which he (surprisingly) told me he had never heard of but was down to try. To be fair, I get a little aggressive when someone starts questioning my food suggestions. At first Jay told me hesitantly, “Well, are you sure it’s good…..? I just have never read about it or heard about….” I started getting defensive and responded quickly, “it’s not my fault if you’re ignorant.” Despite this, he said he would be open to eating there with me. I made a mental note to be nicer.

We dipped out of Jack Rose quickly and walked the three blocks up to Donburi which was packed. However, with no alcohol license here, people seem to move in and out of the restaurant fairly quickly and we were seated within 10 minutes. We started with the barbecued eel with pickled ginger and radishes.to start. The eel is cooked with a blow torch, which results in this delicious caramelized flavor. We inhaled this appetizer and eagerly waiting our rice bowls.

Jay got the kaarage (chicken) donburi while I ordered the mix katsudon with panko-crusted pork and panko-crusted shrimp. Everything is cooked to order, so our food came out freshly fried. The extremely hot shrimp and pork were served over a generous serving of rice, along with pickled vegetables and caramelized onions. Then the cooks placed a soft boiled egg on top of everything. The sunny yolk mixed into the bowl created an incredibly rich, creamy texture that was so comforting in my stomach after a few drinks. This was first time getting the fried meat, and I found it absolutely amazing. I am not sure I can go back to getting the sashami (although it is probably slightly healthier, but who cares at 9pm on a Saturday night? Healthiness goes hand in hand with regret on Monday morning). Using panko results in a light, crunchy crust, while the meat itself was slightly sweet and perfectly juicy. The crunchy pickled vegetables and peppers added a nice kick to each spoonful. Of course, I can’t forget about the mayo. The spicy mayo-based sauce on the counter is so delicious. We probably used half a bottle between the Jay and I. I poured it directly into my bowl, but also dipped each bite of meat into extra mayo as well. Each satisfying bite was also covered in the sweet donburi sauce, which is similar to a reduced teryaki.

One of my favorite things about Donburi is the vibe. The simple, casual decor makes you focus on the delicious food. The cooks behind the counter are so personable and friendly, and they all love totally jamming out to old school 90’s tunes while preparing your food. As we made our way through our giant bowls of food, we laughed as the cooks just belted along to (notice I did not write “sing,” but rather “belted” because they really were yelling along with the music at the top of their lungs) Montell Jordan and R. Kelly. The music was also accompanied by hip gyrations. It was all incredibly entertaining.

I felt overwhelmingly satisfied after I finished my bowl. We both checked our phones and realized we had gotten several “Where did you go??” texts from our friends. I guess it looks a little shady when you dip out of the bar early on a Saturday evening. I debated going home and sinking immediately into a food coma, but Jay convinced me to head back over to the birthday celebration. By the time we rejoined everyone, I was slightly groggy from all the carbs and meat in my belly. I had lost my buzz but had no interest in putting anything else in my stomach so I made small talk for approximately 20 minutes before pulling out my phone and requesting an uber. In less than thirty minutes, I had re-shady dipped out of the bar and was in my bed. When I opened my eyes eleven hours later on Sunday morning, I felt incredibly energized. Not sure if this is just a sign of old(er) age, but in my opinion, this was the best Saturday night. I had spent time with friends, eaten a fantastic meal, was in bed well before midnight, slept more than I had slept in recent memory, and had absolutely no hangover the following morning. I’ll take this kind of Saturday over a crazy rave any day.