Descriptive Writing About A Restaurant

Steam puffed out of manhole covers that dotted the road. Penn Station came out at an intersection where the air was filled with the melody of car horns, voices and footsteps. Authentic New York style pizza was something I had always wanted to try. Across from Penn Station was this little, uncrowded restaurant that served some very addicting garlic knots. It was impossible to just eat one. The pizza comes in large, thin slices which had just the right amounts of sauce and cheese. It was a perfect meal to welcome me to the city.
From the restaurant, my family and I took cabs to the American Museum of Natural History. The entranceway was packed with visitors and we had to wait in line to check in. I was standing with my cousins up against …show more content…
Inside the restaurant, the walls were all filled with caricatures. Before this, most of the caricatures I had seen were either political cartoons or drawn at carnivals. Although I was hopeless at naming the famous people depicted, my aunt, uncle and cousins were able to identify a few. It was funny to think that the people in the frames had eaten at the same restaurant. It was a little crowded at our table and I bumped feet with my cousins a few times. It took a while for our food to come so while I was waiting, I headed to the restroom to wash my hands. As I went to dry my hands, something I was not used to happened. There was a staff member in there whose job was to hand you a towel to dry off your hands with. Not being prepared, I didn’t have any money to tip her with. I thanked her and left. It was the only place this had ever happened. When I returned to the table, our food was being served. After a tasty meal, we headed towards Times …show more content…
After a little walking around, some of my New York family headed home, leaving only my mother, father, sister and I. My sister dragged us into the Aeropostale store where the music playing was loud enough to give me a headache. I found a little corner on the second floor where the windows were all glass that was intended for looking out onto the street. I could see all of the blinking, flashing and moving lights and people in the square. As we exited back onto the street, I decided to visit the American Eagle store. I found a pair of socks adorned with a little snowflake pattern that seemed like a good enough souvenir to take away from New York City. My parents were done with the crowds at this point and ready to go somewhere a bit