After some quality bagels and smoked sea life we departed New York City on Sunday afternoon for New Jersey to visit with my grandmother, aunt and uncle, and various cousins and second cousins. We ate some tasty dinner with the fam then headed out to explore for our first time nightlife at the Jersey shore. Aware of this blog, my cousin Jason recommended we check out Porta National Park, a restaurant and bar in nearby Asbury Park.
The famous pink drink.
We falsely promised ourselves one drink here then back to the B&B in Long Branch for our first actual night of sleep during this trip. I started with a Sangio Sour and Christian ordered something I can’t remember the name of that turned out, of course, to be pink and served up. So as usual when this happens, the bartender placed the drink in front of me and we all had a good laugh when I gave the pretty pink cocktail to its rightful owner. (Unrelated sidenote, Christian is extremely manly and SUPER muscular and could totally, totally kick your ass, bitches.) We moved on from cocktails to Maker’s Marks, neat, and a truly amazing cheeseplate.
What a pretty cheese plate.
Couple other cocktails we ordered at Porta that both look super manly, with the menu.
By then the switch was flipped and it was weekday last call at Porta. So we ditched our car walking distance from the bed we were intending to sleep in, and ordered some drinks at a bar called Mix.
It was Sunday so there weren’t that many customers, but the people who were here lived up more to my expectations of what Jersey shore drinkers should look like, in opposition to the black-and-grey tattoos and hispter beards we saw at Porta. There was a DJ playing Top 40 and most of the drinks on the menu involved flavored vodka and like, 8 kinds of fruit juice. That said, while it’s easy to sit on my San Francisco snobastel and be all judgey-judgey and shit, the bartenders were fucking AWESOME DUDES! And we had a fuck ton of FUN! Like for serious, if you bartender dudes are reading this (which is possible, people, cause we gave them our business card and were like sooooo charming about it—hahaha SIGH) you are seriously super rad!!! So we drank a bunch there and then we were hungry again, like, duh, and one of the bartenders gave us a menu for Jr’s and recommended this: “Krazer Fries: Thin crinkle cut fryz w/ warm Kraft cheese wiz, bacon & chopped sirloin burger” because obvi.
Drinking at Mix.
The next day we were super hungover and we drove for 6 hours to Boston. Are you supposed to drive on like, every single East Coast highway to get from Jersey to Boston? I’m gonna jump on the blamey bandwagon here and say my navigation was off cause of that new iPhone operating system and its inferior maps.
Fancy drinks in Boston. Yes, those are pink peppercorns floating in three of them.
ANYWAYS we show up at my aunt Jean and uncle Lance’s house in Boston and they’re like, let’s go drink the 2nd best margaritas we’ve ever had and we’re like: sweet. So I ate some chicken mole and drank a couple margaritas and it was almost like that 6 hour tour of every highway on the East Coast never happened. And then we went to a fancy-dancey hotel bar for fancy cocktails and my aunt went home and two of our college friends met up with us (shout-outs to KC and Haley!) and there was another bar called the Pour House (get it??). And then the college friends went home and we were like yeah, let’s have a nightcap at home uncle Lance. And Maker’s Mark. And then the next day we got up way too early so we could make it to Vermont in time for Christian to get his portrait painted by an art class of older ladies (what?) END SCENE.
View from my aunt and uncle’s place the morning we left Boston. We’ll be back!