Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
crisp, clean unoaked Chardonnay. One of the group even wants to buy a bottle, but I remind
her that spending money is anathema to the ethos of the tour. (Later, however, someone else
breaks the rule by buying a crunchy cheddar from Vermont that we tasted at Lucy's Whey.)
After sampling a dozen types of infused olive oil at the Filling Station, we check into
L'Arte del Gelato, where I demonstrate to the group how not to be cowed by eye rolling.
When it comes to ice cream, the usual custom is “two tries then buy.” Despite a salvo of tsk-
ing I make it to five unchallenged tries. But the rest of the group can't handle the contempt,
which is just as well because being upstaged by newbie moochers would be shameful.
We're already 10 minutes behind schedule when we unexpectedly pass several food carts
ontheHighLinethathavestartedtheprocessofcallingitanight.Thehipsterpedantrunning
the Northern Spy Food Co. cart tells me that it wouldn't be “food safe” to give me the items
he's in the process of throwing away because they contain dairy. “You have nothing without
dairy?” I ask. Begrudgingly he hands me two large hot biscuits. “They've been in the oven
awhile,” he says. “They might not be great.” But oh, they are! The seven of us tear at the
biscuits like a pack of wolves pulling apart a rabbit. One of my group simply asked the guys
from another truck if we could sample their cooking before they shut off their grill. The two
chefs make three types of miniature tacos for us, which we all agree are exquisite.
Wehavetoeatourtacosonthehooflestthefoodandwineatthegalleriesberansacked.At
the hpgrp Gallery on 20th Street, I'm elated to see 10 bottles of red and white wine and three
people ready to distribute it. “We ran out of cups,” one says apologetically. “We just sent out
formore,”anothersays.Thesepeoplearetryingtogiveuswinebutcan'tandit'smaddening!
We descend on what's left of the crudités and potato chips, slipping some oily macadamia
nutsintoourziplock bags,thencutourlossesandheadtoPaceGallery on25thStreet, where
waiters offer us water. “No wine?” I ask. “All out,” says one. So I herd the gang to a couple
of more galleries where our indifference to the art raises a few eyebrows but where the food
tables are groaning with wine, champagne, pita triangles, feta-stuffed olives, and chocolate
wafer straws. Both places are on upper floors, which confirms my theory that upstairs galler-
ies are much less likely to have their food and wine offerings scoured by opportunists. You
can take that tidbit to the bank.
A few days later, I get back in touch with Edial Dekker to let him know that I am a writer
and that I enjoyed being a guerrilla tour guide enough to reprise the role when he and his
brother are in town. He tells me that Gidsy was born after he and his brother had trouble or-
ganizing a group to venture into the German countryside to pick mushrooms and then make
a mushroom risotto. “So we thought there was a market opportunity and we started thinking
about how to connect people with experiences with a social component,” he says. They star-
ted with a cooking class, followed by a seminar on how to create a startup. It was their pals
at the popular app SoundCloud who mentioned them to Ashton Kutcher, who, says Dekker,
“was just totally behind the idea. He immediately got that we were bringing people togeth-
