Like many New Yorkers, I often buy my weekday morning breakfast on the street. Unlike many New Yorkers (ahem, Boyfriend, this means you!), I don’t go for the donuts, croissants, muffins, or other bad-for-me treats. Instead, I pass that cart and go to the cart next to him: the fruit vendor.
For 50 cents, I can get basically any hand fruit that exists. Some mornings I want an apple, others a nectarine… etc. I won’t kid myself into thinking it’s organic like the farmer’s market, but all the produce is extremely fresh, and it’s usually much cheaper than the grocery store.
To make things even better, the produce carts don’t seem to stick to any particular hours. Last night, I went to dinner with some alum from my sorority. We went to Piola, which has great thin crust pizza, and more importantly, a ladies’ night special where you get unlimited free wine with your entree! I was glad I had gone running yesterday morning, because it made me feel better about indulging in pizza and wine, but the combination of working out hard, eating lightly all day, and the pizza that I chose actually didn’t fill me up.
I left dinner not really full, and my drunken eyes were combing the streets for some kind of sinful treat to quell my munchies. Fortunately for me, I didn’t see anything good in that area, and when I got off the subway, between me and the falafel place was the fruit cart. Perfect! I picked up a delicious nectarine and found it the best drunk treat ever: sweet, cheap, filling, and perfectly low in calories. I woke up this morning feeling still a little bit drunk, but really glad I had opted for fruit instead of falafel or more pizza or ice cream. Go me!
To make things even better, I woke up at 6:15 and hit the gym for 30 minutes on the elliptical and 5 minute cooldown on the bike. I’m getting on the right track!