What happens when you send a foodie to New York? Tummy space is never enough and she doesn't really want to ever leave. And a turnip cake gets photographed from every angle. I'm just back from a glorious holiday in NYC. When I wasn't making my way back and forth across the famous grid, gaping at skyscrapers and the masses of concrete and glass, or marvelling at the joys of a 24-hr tube [um Metro, I beg your pardon ;)], or bear-hugging old friends and family, or raising my glass of gin & tonic (you can take the girl out of England, but you can't take England out of the girl?) to many more such wonderful breaks, I was sampling grub from around the world, darting from one recommended joint to another across Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens, getting happier and higher as I went along.

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