Stale coffee. Rubber boots. Those were the scents that welcomed me as I stepped into My Apartment for dinner on a quiet Friday night.
My Apartment truly embraces a "catch as catch can" approach to cuisine. On an off day, one may walk in to find a full refrigerator boasting fresh and recognizable foodstuffs from all of the major food groups. On most days, however, nobody has been to the grocery store in several weeks, and any produce in the fridge is a rotting impulse buy from the local farmer's market.
It's days like these that you get the true My Apartment dining experience. And I was lucky enough to dine at My Apartment on such a barren day.

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My amuse-bouche was a simple Polly-O String Cheese that I ate "like a bun-less hotdog," and not string-by-string as string cheese is traditionally eaten. I ate the cheese stick in the kitchen, with my coat still on and my bag still on my shoulder. The "beggar's first meal" approach to this course made it taste all the better. My desperation complimented the processed cheese nicely.
As an appetizer, I had the hummus and carrots. But this was not your average hummus and carrots. On the contrary, I was pleased to find that the carrots were dried out and semi-shriveled, thanks to the chef's careful preparation of leaving the carrot bag in the fridge with a big hole torn into it without any attempt made to reseal the carrots.

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The almost papery texture of the carrots was in sharp contrast to the tang of the last few scrapes of hummus in the container. Not knowing whether the tang of the hummus was its original flavor or an indication that it was about to turn made it all the more thrilling.
As a second appetizer (since I couldn't decide), I had the "Chips and Cheese special," which was described as stale tortilla chips with heaps of dry grated parmesan cheese. This dish is only available when someone has had the restraint to not eat all the chips in one sitting, so I felt lucky to partake.
The Chips and Cheese came deconstructed, so it was up to me to complete the delicate task of scooping parmesan cheese onto the chip, balancing it so that the heap of snow-like cheese didn't fall, and then shoveling it into my mouth without aspirating the cheese. I loved eating grated parmesan in a way that no one had before, and for good reason.
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At this point, the small plates I had enjoyed more than satiated me. But "being full" is no reason to stop eating when you're dining at My Apartment.
My main course was cold leftover Thai. My Apartment often purchases dishes from other restaurants, puts them in the refrigerator, and then serves them five to seven days later.
The proper way to eat leftover Thai at My Apartment is to eat directly out of the takeout dish, quietly, while glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one is coming. You never know when the dish you are eating has been promised to someone else for lunch the next day.
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After polishing off the rest of the Thai, my fork was placed next to but not inside the sink, so as to indicate that it was still available to be used later that evening. Not committing to being "done" with the fork allows the diner at My Apartment to always go back for more without adding the guilt of having dirtied another eating utensil.
I didn't have much room for dessert, so I ordered the Peanut Butter Infinity. The Peanut Butter Infinity, or PBI, is an infinite number of spoonful of peanut butter served straight from the jar and eaten throughout the rest of the night while watching The Good Wife.
The fun of the PBI is not only the sustained taste of peanut butter in your mouth, but the emotional roller coaster the dish takes you on. The first bite is always wonderful. But by the fifth or sixth bite, the diner is staring into the open cupboard having forgotten the plotline of that week's episode of The Good Wife and berating himself or herself for "always doing this." By bites ten and on, the diner has already accepted his or her fate as a fat slob, and is back to enjoying the peanut butter again.
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The Peanut Butter Infinity is over only when you reach the bottom of the jar or another diner enters the room, whichever is first. My experience was with the former, so I look forward to coming back again and hoping that another diner interrupts me the next time around.
At that point, The Good Wife had ended and the kitchen was out of food. So it was time for me to make my exit.
Will I return? You bet I will. I don't have a choice.


My Apartment is located on the corner of Lonely Ave. and Hungry St. on the far side of Will Power Blvd. Open 24 hours. There is a phone number, but no one ever answers it. Reservations are not accepted but you should have some.