Sometimes I honestly don’t feel like doing this. When I have to review a place like this that I vaguely remember, and obviously don’t care about, it’s like a slow, slow death. Meanwhile, I trudge by this place on the way to work and remember that for some reason I wasted my time walking in here to get a sandwich or bagel or something. Maybe I was just too sick of the usual places, or couldn’t pass up the convenient location. Whatever the case, I’m almost sickened with myself and my fickle appetite and failing memory. To my best recollection, I didn’t catch any diseases from the cash register woman, or buy anything that ended up having shards of glass sticking out of it. But, like I said, my memory isn’t very good anymore, and I could have had the best meal of my entire life at this joint–or I could have been stuck with a severed-finger-‘n’-egg sandwich. I truly don’t recall. [MF]
51 W 51st St.