So when i was growing up, there was a small Italian Street festival in Williamsburg called the Mt. Carmel Feast. It was THE place to be in the summer once the sun went down. All us girls would go home after a long day at the pool, wash the chlorine off and put on the skimpiest outfits our parents would let us get away with wearing and walk the streets of the festival to smile at older boys. Your girl Mo Diva, used to be quite the heartbreaker. Oh yeah. Our little festival was the world to us… and then the year of my 17th birthday, an asshole I was dating named Joey invited me to the San Genaro Festival.
WHAT?
ANOTHER ITALIAN FESTIVAL?
DID YOU SAY THIS ONE IS BIGGER?
Whoa!
And ever since then I have made a trip to Little Italy for the San Genaro Festival. Only now, i wear flip flops instead of 3 inch heels and sweaters instead of tube tops. Oh and i actually know how to wear make up now. But getting older, i have come to find the entire thing to overrated and tourist trappy. Since I am no longer a heartbreaker I dont see the point in walking around this god awful place… and i dont really dig the OLDER variety like i used to…(Thanks Splenda Daddies, but I dont need your AARP discount)
My friend Meg had wanted to check out the festival and since i work steps away i decided to meet her for a quick street fair dinner… Quick and Dirty.
It was after work… and already a nightmare. This guy walked by and was all “OMG Nick Cannon is over there” and i was like “Psh, Nick Cannon. Big deal.”
Then i saw him…
‘HOLY SHIT THATS NICK CANNON”
and ran with my camera on zoom

making a complete ass of myself…

and then quickly realizing that i look mighty dumb, i put the camera away and run to Meg.
“I saw him. big deal”
We were walking looking for food when Meg laid it on me… “I dont eat pork” Okay, so no sausage. Oh Look a clam bar. “I dont eat fish”. Meg, how are we friends? “I eat chicken though!”
and thats when i decided that street food was going to be a retarded idea. Since we were in Little Italy, I walked her over to a sandwich spot.
The grumpy man makin the sandwiches rolled his eyes when i asked for my poison: Grilled eggplant, smoked mozzarella and sweet red peppers.
Did you know for an additional $3 and dine in option, you can get a glass of house wine?

Now you do.
Since Megan tolerates eggplant she opted for a chicken parm…

and ooey gooey messy delicious chicken parm hero…

it was a 20 napkin sandwich.
We walked around after our bellies were filled with sandwichy goodness and opted to get a small order of zepoles… i mean fried dough is what this festival is all about when you arent trying to scam on older guys…

But either I have grown out of love with these or they were the worst zepoles i have had in my life… the dough was BLAND… like no flavor what so ever. they were completely gummy and the powdered sugar caked on indicating they were not fresh. If you find a good zepole spot, keep going there. everyone makes zepoles a little different and to fuck up some fried sugary dough is a sin. a sin i tell ya!
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