Red Rooster Harlem

Red Rooster Harlem

Pitstop At Red Rooster Harlem-

After a fun and food fueled week at SXSW, in Austin, Texas, Danny and I were on our way home. Upon our arrival, at La Guardia airport, we jumped on the M-60 bus and headed to Lower Manhattan. For a grand total of $5.00,  the two of us travelled all the way home to Manhattan.

We could have paid $45.00 dollars or so, for a taxi, but that is the BIGGEST WASTE OF MONEY, on the planet. Resist the urge. Take the AirTrain or a bus.

The bus has plenty of room for luggage, there’s no wait, and the ride is super easy! We usually take the bus, to the subway station, and then we hop on the 2 or 3 train to Park Place. The whole trip takes less than 60 minutes, depending on the time of day.

Our intention was to hop on the train, and head home, but as usual, my husband had a “FOODSPOTTING” moment.

There it was. Red Rooster Harlem, right across the street. Chef Marcus Samuelson’s Harlem Hot Spot, which of course, is on any Foodie’s MUST EAT wish list.

Red rooster Harlem

Devilishly Delicious

We shlepped our bags into the restaurant, and scored two seats at the bar. Upon the recommendation of our bartender, we ordered Deviled Eggs, Catfish with Grits, and Fried Chicken.

When I tasted the eggs, there was something that I couldn’t quite place. It was crunchy and tasty, but I had no clue. The bartender told us what it was…..but now I can’t remember.

Meow! Catfish Extraordinaire

The only way I know how to prepare fish, is to throw it in a pan and flip it. Chef Marcus has really made me feel foolish, with his version, of catfish and grits.

In addition to the food, lovely staff, and happy atmosphere, I would be remiss, if I didn’t mention Qool DJ Marv, AKA Marvin Coleman, who was spinning some of the best R&B tunes, this side of Detroit.

The music was so good, I wanted to get up and dance on the bar. Someone stopped me. It’s not that I’m not a good dancer, its just “not allowed.”

Right after that, we swiped our metro cards at the subway station, and finished our journey home.

By Vicki Winters

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