I ate so, so good this week that excluding any place feels wrong, but I’m ultimately at peace with SYKO standing alone. The SY is Syrian and the KO is Korean for this fusion restaurant of two of the best cuisines. It used to be a sit-down restaurant and is now a takeout counter in the back of a Syrian-Korean market with a few tables if you’re too impatient to go eat a few blocks away in Prospect Park. I’ve been wanting to try this place for years after seeing TikToks about the brother-in-law dual owners that embody the fusion. All good fusion restaurants should have a three part menu: 1. cuisine A 2. cuisine B 3. fusion, and this place has that. Spencer and I opted for the fusion section. He got the bulgogi kimchi hummus (the first two are atop the third), and I got the kimchi falafel sandwich. The Syrian owner took our order, gladly taking us through the menu and trying to dissuade us from such a kimchi-heavy meal. He was so nice that I let him upsell me on a side of za’atar fries, which I don’t regret getting. Everything we ate slapped, and my sandwich was also great the next day.

KAROL G’s new album isn’t really up my alley (Drake singing in Spanish?), but I am absolutely addicted to “BbY WOW” (ft. Judeline and rusowsky). As Kehlani knows from “After Hours,” putting any song atop the instrumental from “Move Ya Body” catapults it to hit status. The song is sensual and a little sad, definitely danceable in the right setting with the right substances but is probably better in a calmer environment. Putting Spanish singers/rising stars Judeline and rusowsky on with their whiny whispery voices sinks you down while the beat keeps you barely above water. I cannot stop listening to this song. It has this expansive quality to it that reminds me of spring break freshman year of college when my friends spontaneously drove to Montreal. We kept shuffling through the Black Panther album, and I marveled at New Hampshire’s White Mountains for the first time as they attempted to pierce a never-ending sky. “Redemption” by Zacari on the soundtrack feels like it sounds similar to this song, but my sentimentality might make me the only person that associates them.

I don’t think there’s a way to write this out that can prove how funny this is. Some girl has created a character named Chanty Beluga, who is just a normal woman that happens to have that peculiar name. Every video is something conventional happening to her but she also introduces herself. This has profoundly taken over my TikTok and Twitter. Chanty is one of those niche trends that’s twofold in its popularity: 1. the thing is funny 2. the thing is just niche enough that everyone in it thinks they’re in an exclusive club — and they’re excited to have access.

Mad Men is the best show ever. I’m plowing through its second-to-last season. Other than that, I finished Mary Beth Barone: Galaxy Brain, the Netflix standup special from the Overcompensating actress. I hadn’t previously consumed any of her media before but knew her as a funny person and a surprisingly good red carpet correspondent. Do you ever watch someone or something and think, That’s made for me — or even That’s me or That’s exactly the kind of art I would make? That’s how I felt watching her, like if I were a little older we would be friends running around North Brooklyn together. She’s the kind of bisexual girl that I’d go on a great date with and be confused when she would ghost me afterwards. I see her as a spiritual successor to Cat Cohen, a bit more biting and fake-nonchalant for 2026. If you fit my demo, you will like this.

New York Magazine comes to my door with a cover reading “Habibi City” and a picture of people dancing atop a solid pink background. I was built to get excited about this, a series of stories about the SWANA (Southwest Asia and North Africa, more accurate term for Middle East) scene in New York. We’re two decades out from 9/11 and in Mamdani’s New York where these once-maligned groups now have heavy cultural capital. The stories go through restaurants, parties, hotspots, and what came before them. I think they strike a great balance between sorrow and joy, acknowledging the trauma of being in these communities while illustrating how much fun everyone’s having together. My favorite story in the set is about the modern minefield of figuring out what a Mediterranean restaurant is and whether to dine there. I love reading about things I don’t know about, but it’s fun once in awhile to see reporting on something you know intimately.

I want to preface to the old and/or suburban people that fear New York that I rarely see disturbing things in my day-to-day life. That being said, I’m walking up the ramp from the West 4th train platform to see a man facing away from me, standing with his pants down and huge balls hanging. I immediately look away and keep walking. A family passes me on their way to the train — pretty parents and two young boys nearly skipping down the ramp with excitement — with no idea that there’s something to behold at the bottom of the ramp. I watch the mom’s face slowly harden, realizing what they’re about to walk into. Once I passed, I couldn’t stop laughing.