This year, my immediate family broke the tradition of spending Thanksgiving listening to my overtly conservative extended family ramble on about how everything is Obama’s fault and decided to take the Long Island Rail (Fail!) Road into New York City. The night before the famous Macy’s Parade, we stayed in an admittedly shite hotel with some very pretty views of the nearby river. The plan had been to take the train in, watch the balloons being blown up, go out to dinner, then go back to the hotel to sleep until the parade the next morning. However, LIRR being as it is, we spent most of the time on the subway due to failed signals and by the time we got to the city, the balloons were done and only restaurants attached to bars were open. Needless to say, we found a great tapas bar and I had paella marinera. Oh, and Sangria. Two. Large. Glasses. MMMMmmmm. ANYWAY… We didn’t wake up too early the next morning (amazing considering my mom being who she is) but we made our way to the parade. I missed out on a lot of shots for a few reasons. 1. I’m so short, I’m almost underground. 2. The morons in the parade committee decided it would be a grand idea to hand out free balloons so said balloons were usually an obstruction. 3. The position of the sun backlit ALL THE THINGS! Before the parade was over, we ducked out to go for breakfast. This place, GUYS. THIS PLACE. A.G. Kitchen. I had the Divorced Eggs, which are poached eggs over crabcakes with salsa roja and salsa verde. The only complaint was that the food (same with my mom’s) was a bit lukewarm. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around, before heading back to our house and meeting my sister for Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant in town.