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Two weeks ago we announced we would give away 4 tickets to Eleven Madison Park's mint julep heavy Kentucky Derby mega party, taking place Saturday afternoon. All you had to do: rewrite the lyrics to My Old Kentucky Home (later simplified to rewriting the chorus of the song). You guys did...pretty well. Some entries revealed real effort (and skill!) while others, well, you'll see. Our two winning entries—one a full song, one just a chorus—followed by the runners up:
WINNER
Weep no more El Chod-o
Oh! Kobe Club is no more today!
We will sing one song
For My Old Chodorow Home
For My Old Chodorow Home, shuttered away.
WINNER
The sun shines bright on my old Bedford home
Tis summer, the Hipsters are gay
The corn rows on scalps and the ray ban's in bloom
Slurping Marlow and Sons Oysters all the day
The young folks roll on the little electro dance floor
All ironic, all vintage and high.
By 'n by the recession come a-knocking at the door
Then my old Dressler home good night
Weep no more, my lady Oh, weep no more, today
We will have another Pork Bun for the old East Village home
For the old Momofuku home far away.
They hunt no more for the Banh Mi and the Country Ham,
At Saam Bar, the Noodle Bar and the Ko,
They sip no more PBR by the glimmer of the LES bar,
On the bench by that old WD-50 Bar.
The Kogi taco promises to come like a shadow o'er the heart,
With a Michelin star, all was delight.
The time has come when the Bankers have to part,
Then my old Astor Place home, good night.
Danny Meyer must bow and the tasting menu will have to bend,
Wherever the poor folks may go, No Corkage and the trouble will end,
Where the local and seasonal menus may grow.
A few more hours, to get seated at the spotted pig,
No matter, 'twill be eating roasted bone marrow
A few more flutes of Krug till we totter on the road,
Then my old Manhattan home, good night.
RUNNERS UP
Oh! Tongues delight in this city's restaurant scene,
And digest all that Adam Platt has to say
While "chefs all over town are replacing
Foie gras [...] with comfort food"* these days.
Everywhere you go there are five-star hamburgers,
And in NYC you are never very far
From an establishment by Emperor Danny Meyer
Like the Shake Shack or Eleven Madison Park.
Eat in New York City
Oh! Eat out here today!
Come in and find out what the dish is all about,
The dish on this restaurant scene these days... Yum!
——
Weep no more for Kobe Steak,
Weep no more for me,
I can mix pizza napoletana and booze at Motorino,
And theres no lack of choice for Banh Mi.
——
Eat at Thor, my lady
Or, Eat at Masa, today
You will find no seat at Momofuko Ko
For Momofuko Ko try next week!
——
Eat some more my lady,
Oh have some more flambe!
NYC's got food from wherever you call home,
From street meat to a table at Per Se.
——
The sun shines bright in my old NYC home,
'Tis summer, the Euro tourists are gay;
The discounts are deep and the exchange rate's steep,
While the locals scowl all the day
The burger-seekers wait on the Shake Shack line,
All merry, all happy and bright;
By 'n' by they'll write into Eater with a backlash whine
Then my old NYC home, goodnight
Weep no more, New York City
Oh! weep no more, my dear!
We'll open our wallets for the old city home,
For all the restaurants going into arrears
——
Oh! Eat more banh mi and Pat LaFreida black label blends today!
We'll be creating new food trends in our old Manhattan home
When the old ones have been exported to Home cities far away
——
The sun shines bright on my old NYC home
Tis summer, the Hamptons are gay
Central Park’s ripe and the great lawn’s in bloom
While the Homeless make music all the day
The Tourists give them change more and more
All merry, all happy and bright
By 'n by people come a-knocking at A60’s door
Then my old NYC home good night
Sleep no more, my city
Oh, sleep no more, today
We will sing one song for the old NYC home
For the old New York home far away.
They hunt still more for the women in Soho,
On broadway, Prince and at Bloomie’s door,
They shop no more by the glimmer of the moon,
On the bench by that tourist store.
The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart,
With sorrow where all was delight.
The time has come when the ladies have to part,
Then my old New York home, good night.
The head must bow and the back will have to bend,
Wherever the homeless may go
A few more days and the brunch party will end,
In the MPD where B&T may show.
A few more days for to tote the Ed Hardy Clothes,
No matter, 'twill never be right
A few more days till we totter on the road,
Then my old New York home, good night.
——
Hot tempers ignite over the speakeasy rezoned,
'Tis summer, the community board is weary;
An aggrieved neighbor relieves himself on the garden below
Ignored by interns dining on hipster grifter theories.
While a Korean girl frolics on an illegal dance floor,
$20 cocktails blind brokers from the blight;
Then the fire marshal comes a-knocking at the door,
Par for the course on a Friday night.
Weep no more pensioned ladies!
No! Weep no more today!
Orange, yellow stickers are affixed on the speakeasy rezoned,
But the broke and famous will find another way to play.
They'll hunt no more for connections and coke,
In offices, stairwells, behind stall doors,
No mezcals poured under clouds of smoke,
Spilled on parquet exquisitely restored.
Conversation's the same at every bahn mi cart,
"Where the hell are we going tonight?"
The time has come for freelancers to part,
Will the speakeasy rezoned reopen all right?
"The head must bow and the back will have to bend,"
Warns a doorman packing revelers into cramped elevators;
The speakeasy's backers grateful for hotel owner friends,
The publicity will pay for violations later;
A few more days until they're again up to code,
The bloggers they chronicle the plight;
"We'll make it up tomorrow" said one source furloughed,
"The speakeasy rezoned will have a very good night."
——
Weep no more you didn't win David Chang secret lunch tickets
Oh! weep no more today!
We will eat a tastier meal at the old Meyer home,
At the Old Meyer Home across from Shake Shack.
——
1) The sun shines bright in the old Gotham duplex
Tis spring, the Manhattanites are aglow.
Central Park is a bloom and the Great Lawn is full
While the pigeons get fat on crusts of bread.
The stylistas stroll in Armani and Channel
All are glad to be dining alfresco.
As the sun comes to rest amid the evening traffic throng
Tables fill all along the avenues.
Wait no more my lady.
Oh! Wait no more tonight!
We have a table reserved at Eleven Madison Park
In the corner, so romantic and so dark.