It didn't end badly, but it didn't end with Vietnamese Sandwiches either. There has been a rumor swirling around our neighborhood that a Vietnamese Sandwich shop would open up across the street from our house. When I heard I innocently asked "What the heck is a Vietnamese sandwich" and was met with great cries of dismay from my friends when they realized that I was so uncivilized. I had a number of people tell me they were the greatest thing ever (high praise from a friend who we regularly get soup dumplings with) and the location of the nearest "not very authentic but close enough" Vietnamese sandwich.
Over the course of the summer and fall and winter there has been much speculation as to the truth of the rumor and a few weeks ago they started construction on the shop. I couldn't tell exactly what was going on but it didn't appear to be a real estate office which was the other shop in the running. So after much speculation and attempted window peeking (they were very secretive) a sign finally went up yesterday letting us know that a Hanco's Sandwich shop and bubble tea lounge would be coming in. Score!
So that's the context. Ab and I made plans to head out to an authentic and cheap Vietnamese restaurant in Sunset park (Ba Yuhen on 8th between 42nd and 43rd). We were very excited. Somewhere in the excitement I suggested that we try ice skating at the park. So it was set, ice skating and the long awaited authentic Vietnamese sandwiches!
Ice skating was a blast. We actually drove over to the park since walking is not advisable and the subway isn't too easy. Parking at Wollman Rink is free and we went inside. It was half price night so it was $9 a person with skate rentals. Neither of us had been skating in a while (I don't count my skating a work on fake ice) and we were a bit nervous.
As an adult there are few people I would want to test out my questionable ice skating skills with aside from my best friend of 20 years. Luckily, I happen to have a best friend who whole heartedly agreed that we should both pledge not to try and grab the other if we were going to fall. Nothing could make a fall worse than flailing to grab you only a little bit more stable friend on the way down.
Once we got on the ice we were fine and very much enjoyed the skate. It wasn't too crowded and there was a nice mix of little kids, people on dates, and high schoolers showing off for one another. After about an hour though Ab admitted that her face was totally freezing and I was beginning to visibly shorten on one side since they hadn't changed the directions of the skate.
We hurried inside. Apparently right after I stepped off the ice a kid who was totally out of control came off the ice, hit the walkway and face planted right behind me. We saw lots and lots of people fall, young and old, and everyone laughed, dusted off and began to skate again.
After skating, we drove home (so suburban!) and grabbed some cider and pickled veggies at a beer bar on 14th and 7th. The cheapest beer was $10 and while the setting was nice it seems a bit too precious for my taste and wallet. The cider warmed us up though as we waited for my husband to get home.
Here's where I'll prove what a wonderful man he is because he knows my flaws, puts up with them, and discreetly suggest ways to minimize them. I badger him to come home early from work and join us in our quest for these sandwiches. He's tired and hungry and I want him to take a car service to some unknown location in Brooklyn for sandwiches. He asked me a few questions in the realm of "is it a sit down place" and my answers satisfy him that I have some idea of where we're going but he insists on driving in case the whole thing falls apart. I protest (for fear of not finding parking) but give in because I know he is always right about these things.
We get in the car and take off. After driving a bit with no "Brooklyn's chinatown" in sight I fish around for the post it that has the address on it. Ab knows that I have no idea where I'm going and my husband probably knew from the get go that I had no idea where I'm doing. But that's why he's the best husband, he came anyway and insisted we bring the car so that we couldn't turn around once I admitted that I hadn't really done my due diligence on the whole deal.
After some futzing around with the iphone and some aimless walking up and down a deserted street I finally locate the address and we find a shuttered store front. My husband turns for the car and Ab asks him what he wants for dinner.
Luckily we have the car, hope in, pop the seat warmers on, and grab dinner at the cute Italian place across the street. We spend the rest of the night laughing our behinds off to Ben Stiller's Tropic Thunder, and I once again, take advantage of our car and garage system to drive Ab home.
So no sandwiches but everyone went home fed, watered, and only a little colder for their troubles.
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