Pink Soup Is Safe To Eat

That is, in fact, cold soup and yes, it is pink. I believe this shade of pink is also similar to what the inside of Barbie's toilet would look like.

It all started when my father insisted that we try a traditional Jewish meal. Why, you ask? I don't really have the answer, so I'm guessing it's maybe because we've exhausted every other cuisine. I mean, we've tried traditional Chinese food (Panda Express, of course) and traditional Mexican food (Taco Bell, of course), so in the natural progression of cultures I suppose Jewish food was next up on our list. So being the Americans we are, we turned to Yelp to find the closest Kosher restaurant. You think I'm joking, but no. The search box legitimately said "good Jewish food."

The first thing that came up was B&H Dairy and Vegitarian Food, which I admit is not a 5-star name, but according to the reviews, it had 5-star food and has been a favorite since its opening in 1942.

It is places like this tiny, quaint restaurant that remind me why I love New York and just people, in general. Set up like a traditional diner with crowded tables and squished diner seating, B&H had the perfect mix of old-school ambience and friendly, welcoming attitude. We were greeted warmly by a short Hispanic shop owner, who waved hellos to us like he had known us for many years. It was as if you had stepped into your fun uncle's house and were meeting your family after a long time. The owner joked with us in his loud, laughing voice and made us feel comfortable enough to try the new flavors of borscht and motzah ball soup.

We skipped the seemingly safe items on the menu like omlettes and toast and went straight for potato pancakes with applesauce and sweet bread.

The picture you see in front of you is actually a cold bowl of borscht soup, made out of red beets (hence the color), milk and other mystery ingredients. When it was served in front of me, I hesitated to try it. The owner, sensing my anxiety, smiled and said, "Try it, sweetheart. I promise it's good." And it was. It tasted sour, tangy, exotic, and delicious.

When we finally finished the stacks of food in front of us and were ready to leave, the man crinkled his brow and smiled. "Why are you leaving?" He asked. And that's what I loved most about people like him, in other restaurants, and in the city. So often we go around like robots, without emotion, simply carrying out our tasks as employee and customer without making any genuine human connection. Even the standard, "How are you?" "Good, thanks." has become bland and tasteless. But by being open and free, this man had created much more than a meal. He had created an experience, a pleasant memory. He had stepped out of his role as just a worker serving to paying customers. He became a friendly face, a companion. He became real.

Ah, pink soup served by jolly old men on a humid New York afternoon. Why doesn't everyone live here?

#soup #food #nyc #newyorkcity #bh