Right before we got married, PJ and I lived in an apartment on Elm Street in Huntington, NY. It was far from a nightmare (ba dum bah 🥁).

I loved Huntington. If Long Island taxes weren’t so ridic and we could afford to stay there, it’s where I wanted to live.

Alas, all we could afford 20 years ago was a teeny-tiny, 600 square ft. probably illegal, top floor of a house for $1,000 a month, including utilities, paid in cash only. Once we saw what we could get by moving to North Carolina, it was a no-brainer. Goodbye Huntington, hello Huntersville – and still one of the best decisions we’ve ever made.

But the time we spent in that Huntington apartment is one we both cherish; even though our bedroom was so small that we could only fit a bed and a dresser and our clothes closet was in the living room. The kitchen was so small that we could only fit a cafe table. We didn’t have a washer/dryer, so every weekend I’d haul my laundry down the stairs and out to my car so I could wash our clothes at my parents’ house 30 minutes away, then haul it all back again.

One of the perks of that apartment though, was that we were .25 miles away from the village of Huntington and the food was AMAZING.

So when my chores were done and PJ got home from work, we would walk into town to a Mexican Restaurant called Poncho Villas and gorge ourselves on salsa, tortilla chips, and tacos. We’d drink pitchers of sangria and walk home wasted. It was glorious.

Every week we would get takeout from a hole-in-the-wall that had THE BEST Greek food either one of us has EVER had. We still pine for their chicken lemon soup. He and I would take turns picking it up. The old Greek owner was really mean, gruffly shouting at everyone in his thick accent – kinda like The Soup Nazi from Seinfeld. But for some reason, he was always nice to PJ. He does have a Kramer-like friendliness about him; I guess that makes me Elaine. I’ll take it 😍

Then there was Faz’s. This is where we went for quick Mexican take-out. Always the same order. Burritos and black bean soup. I’m drooling right now thinking of that black bean soup.

On late nights after going to our favorite bar, The Artful Dodger, we’d pick up heroes from One-Stop, a 24-hour corner deli. I followed PJ’s lead when he got the turkey with lettuce, mayo, salt & pepper on Italian bread with a pickle on the side. Sounds pretty basic, right? Well I don’t know what they did to this sandwich but it was magical. Maybe it was because I was drunk and hungry, I don’t know, but to this day I’m still chasing that sandwich. It’s my go-to order, but it never quite tastes like One-Stop’s.

Most New York transplants whine about missing the bagels and pizza – that’s never been an issue for me. The food of Huntington Village though… that’s something to cry about – trust me.