You may have read that thing in The Times about chicks eating steak on dates in order to appear 砥npretentious and down to earth and unneurotic.” Let’s ignore the evidence of neurotic pretentiousness that’s embedded in that strategy for a minute. And let’s take it a step further.
Here’s my new policy: If a guy will smile at me while my face is buried in a goat roti, we can talk. This morning I tested it out with my new favorite Trinidadian breakfast. I boarded the subway with a very un-ladylike smoked herring-stuffed “bake” from A&A Bake and Doubles on Nostrand Avenue ($2). It’s a sandwich of crumbly, salty herring and onions on slightly sweet, steamy, oily bread, with a dash of hot sauce. OK, so my soul-mate didn’t happen to be on the same car as me, today.