For some reason, food has been a tremendous staple in my life. For as long as I can remember, it was, of course, to keep me fed and keep me from being hangry, but growing up, it was always a way for me to be surrounded with those who I care most about. Food has always been a core memory: used to celebrate holidays, used to celebrate milestones, and used when anyone needed some sort of comfort.Â
Last week, I was having one of the hardest weeks; I just felt overwhelmed with everything. With the stress of being a second-semester senior, balancing work and school and life, and just being scared of the unknown, everything came crumbling down on me. I Ubered my butt to the train station, and took the first train back home: I needed my family.Â
Of course, I did not tell anyone I was on the way home, as it was a random spur of the moment decision; I texted my family group chat.Â
“Is anyone going to be in Manhattan? Anyone want to get dinner?” I said. Of course, they responded almost instantly, “We’ll meet you at Flex”.Â
If you know me, you know my obsession with going out to eat. There is something magical to me about going out and sharing a meal with others. I think the biggest magic of it all is the fact that you have no control over the outcome. You’re enjoying someone else’s favorite place, or someone else’s cooking. You’re also enjoying the hustle and bustle of seeing and meeting new people, while getting a little drunk and sharing really intimate details of yourself, your life, and your ethics (if you have good conversation), all while you are sitting next to people who do not even know your name. I think the drastic juxtaposition of it all is the best part. It is my favorite hobby, going out to eat, and it brings an enormous sense of comfort.Â
Flex mussels is a quaint locals-only restaurant on the Upper East Side. Growing up always eating there, and going there for over the past 10 years, most of my mile-stones have been celebrated at this restaurant: anniversaries, birthdays, reuniting with friends, reuniting with family, you name it, it’s been there. Being invited to the grand re-opening post Covid, or the owner and maitre-d being on a first name basis with my parents, it has been a home away from home for as long as I can remember. There’s nothing better than the emotional pull that this miniscule mussel place has on me and my family. And when I came home last week, it was everything I needed and more: a lot of mussels, and a lot of love. So if you ever find yourself roaming on the Upper East Side and looking for the best pot-o-mussels, I recommend going there. For whatever reason you may need.Â
XO Lauren