Tag Archives: Janie Barnett

Trophy Smophy!

From JAF/MSMINY (Main Sandwich Man In New York)
Best Sandwiches in the USA

I doubt the list is accurate, but it’s interesting that your hometown is listed as the home to the best sandwich in the USA.

The Bayou Bakery Muffaletta

You know when you call someone on their cell and they have not recorded a message? (Of course they don’t pick up. How last century, Mr. Bell.) The phone says, “You have reached <insert stiff enunciation of the person you have called name’s> here.” Did you know you don’t have to say your name? Of course you know that, or you would if you thought about it. But who thinks about this stuff? Oh, for heaven’s sakes, let’s just get on with it, right? Right. Buuurreeep! Wrong. You have missed an opportunity – an opportunity, people! – to make the world a better place. One teensy step, people.

Let me paint the picture. My friend Janie teaches voice. Presumably her students think about their, ahem, voice when recording. Recording anything apparently. She called her favorite student. Don’t tell anyone she has a favorite. We ALL like everyone equally, do we not? Riiiight. No answer. He’s busy, man, everyone likes him. And why wouldn’t they? His cell phone picks up and says, “You have reached the best person in the world!”

He says he’s the best and I take his word for it. We all get a trophy if we take one. Put yourself atop a trophy doing whatever you do best. Whatever YOU say you do best.  I believe you.

Jean Shin sees you. At your best. Look closely, people.

Slipping Into the Slope

Crossing over into Brooklyn a person expects to be showered with fairy dust. Hipster fairy dust. It’s not like that. We were showered with love, deep and abiding, and walked on a tack-sharp sunny morning to Naidre’s, the sandwich joint of choice for our deeply abiding friends Janie and Adrienne.

Naidre’s is on bustling 7th Ave, in the slope, yo. Breakfast, lunch and din din, indeedie. We bridged breakfast and lunch. Eggs and wiches, baby.

And here is Janice Pullicino, people, proprietress. She let me take her damn  picture! Get your fine frame in there, order up a deluxcup of Counter Culture Cap and have her punch yer card. Lucky 13 cup on the house! Let ’em fix you a damn fine cuppa, yo!