That I would eat well while in NYC was a given. Any cuisine I desired was not more than a few subway stops away; within walking distance of my Queens apartment I could choose from Guatemalan, Turkish, Indian, Pakistani, Jamaican, Asian, Southern or chic-chic Hipster food, or default to whatever the day’s special was from the “Healthy Guru” grocer (really, more like a Whole Foods pop-up) in the storefront of my building. 
Onigiri, freshly grilled to order, drizzled with Sriracha cream and wrapped in seaweed. $3 street food at its finest.
The Coney Dog. A surprising and oh-so-tasty find near Rockefeller Center.

Our breakfast in Central Park on Saturday morning, chorizo and potato wraps from a Spanish food truck.

 Moroccan lamb skewers and mint tea in Midtown.

Smorgasburg Brooklyn was a highlight for the two of us on Saturday. Set in the East River State Park and with spectacular views of Manhattan, we had but one small complaint with this “Woodstock of Eating,” that being the sheer number of choices! Like kids in a candy store…

“Naked” (sans roll) Maine lobster, sprinkled with lemon and best enjoyed with craft root beer.

 Grilled short rib topped with a bone marrow and roasted tomato salsa.

 Barnstable oysters, shucked fresh at the table.

 Pierogis and pickles…though, the pierogies were not quite up to my standards.

Deep fried sardines with aioli.

 We even sampled, and loved, the Faux Gras!

 Fresh made steamed pork dumplings and tea one early morning in Chinatown.

 Lunch at a diner tucked behind Lincoln Center, a burger topped with grilled onions and iced tea with ice!  Rather old school, and rather delicious.

 Real Mexican tacos from the taco truck at the New York Botanical Garden, and an iced hibiscus flower lemonade.  The truck was the culinary part of the Frida Kahlo exhibit, an excellent complement to an equally excellent exhibit.

 From a Farmer’s Market at Herald Square, a made-to-order Greek Salad was the perfect dose of vitamins and energy I needed to shop the afternoon away; and from the Union Square insanely-organic Farmer’s Market, a ridiculously overpriced and ordinary-tasting grilled cheese sandwich. No doubt the cheese came from a cow that was milked while listening to classical music by a hemp-fiber wearing farmer in a gender-neutral barn made of recycled timbers, that’s how over-the-top this market was.

Sometimes take-away was just what I wanted. My absolute favorite spicy sesame tofu comfort food from Whole Foods; Pad Thai from the place near my apartment; and of course, snacks from Zabars to nosh on while walking through Central Park.

Jack and I criss-crossed Manhattan with our culinary trekking, snacking on Saltenas, Argentinian beef Empanadas and even “Jewish Grandmother Chicken Pot Pie,”  loving every delicious bite. One meal, though, was especially anticipated: Pastrami on Rye sandwich from a favorite Jewish deli. The epicurean pinnacle of my week.