Mastering the Art of the New York Eat-and-Walk

Parisians can keep their two-hour breakfasts at street-side cafes; the power lunch is all for LA. But you’re not a New Yorker until you inhale your meals at full sidewalk speed.

Photos by Alison Brockhouse

It started with a hot dog and a pair of rollerblades. At thirteen years old my version of being a reckless adolescent involved skidding down Broadway on a Saturday afternoon with my best friend, dodging pedestrians while munching on a Gray’s Papaya hot dog.

The rollerblades have long since been abandoned — as has my taste for Gray’s Papaya, along with other mystery meats — but what remains is my love of eating and walking, at the same time and hopefully with few accidents. Like many favored pastimes, it is difficult to pinpoint its exact appeal. All I know is that it brings together two of my favorite diversions: food and mindless urban wandering. This is not an activity to be undertaken in just any city. It requires a place where you can order any meal to-go, a place where food is shoved into mouths absolutely anywhere and at any time, a place where public eating knows no bounds — the smellier, the runnier and more elaborate, the better. On the crowded stree…