As a middle-schooler, the Roots’ Tariq “Black Thought” Trotter was known as “The Pretzel Guy” because he’d spend first period selling hot soft pretzels that he picked up from a local factory. Since then, food has developed into a love language. This past Monday, he brought homemade lunch to 30 Rock for his fellow bandmates to enjoy before prepping for The Tonight Show, where they’ve been the longtime backing band. He does this once every other month as a morale booster — though most recently, it was by request. The menu included six half jerk chickens and jerk wings, cedar-plank salmon, some snapper filets, crab legs, plantains and rice and peas, whipped up that morning. (And a few DoorDashed sides he didn’t have time to make.) In addition to that, he’s had his hands in a few projects, including work on the most recent Gorillaz album and an upcoming show at the Jazz Club at Aman next Thursday. But there’s a lot that he can only say with food. “The need to create carries over and transcends medium,” he says. “Sometimes I want to paint a picture with words, or write a song, or tell a story with my outfit. And other times, it manifests itself onto the plate.”
Tuesday, April 28
I wake up and train around 5:30 a.m. Right now, I’m working out daily. It’s going to be a long, hot, exhausting summer with the annual Roots Picnic music festival, and I don’t want to also be in terrible shape and feeling bad. I follow my workout with three tablespoons of soursop sea-moss gel. I’m more likely to be health- and spirituality-conscious on a Monday or a Tuesday than I am on a Friday or Saturday. If you fall off course, there’s always the top of the next week to get back on point.
Soon after, I have two hard-boiled eggs and a tin of Fishwife tuna. Maybe two Fridays ago, I decided I was going to try and re-create this Asian tuna salad that my wife and I used to get from the café at Life Time back when we’d go out to the gym. It was just a tuna salad, but it was spicy and savory, with green onion and roasted oil. I never got around to actually making the salad, but we still have a bounty of tins from Fishwife: tuna, mackerel, cod, salmon. You’ve got to be careful with the oil on top, because getting spicy tuna oil on something is never good.
At 1:30, I get an Italian turkey hoagie from Nicolo’s Italian Bakery and Deli in Montclair. As a Philly person, I’m a stickler for a good Italian roll, and I discovered Nicolo’s just recently when my son Tarik had a soccer game nearby. My good friend was there, and at some point, he disappeared and went on a mission to find coffee and bagels. He came back with turkey sandwiches from Nicolo’s, and just from the bread alone, I could tell that it was a place I’d be coming back to. I’m impressed because Nicolo’s bakes their own thin, elongated rolls for hot dogs and sausages. I’ve never seen a place hit me with an Italian hot-dog roll.
Baking your own bread is a deal-maker or -breaker for me. It’s why my favorite cheesesteak place in Philly is Angelo’s. The owner, Danny DiGiampietro, also has a place in New York called Danny & Coop’s, which is co-owned by Bradley Cooper. Anybody who can make a dope chopped cheese can probably make a good cheesesteak too, but it’s the bread that makes the difference. They bake their own bread at their bakery in South Philly and bring it up to Danny & Coop’s.
After that, I go to 30 Rock for Fallon, and the big news is that our barber has returned from his friend’s destination wedding in Spain. I don’t know of any other person from any other hair-and-makeup production that travels as much as our barber does. He is jet-setting. Now that he’s back, everybody is excited to get a haircut. He left for Spain the day we came back from a two-week hiatus, so I hadn’t had an official haircut since then. That’s a long time for me (or for anyone my age), and it adds years.
After wrapping up, I go home and cook dinner for my family. At eight, we have double burgers on Italian rolls from Nicolo’s. The burgers are from Vacchiano Farm in New Jersey. They’re square, like Wendy’s, relatively thin, and really good. They also have the best turkey bacon on earth, and I’m glad I found Vacchiano Farm through the Saturday farmers’ market in Montclair.
I get up early on Saturday mornings to try and sneak out to the farmers’ market alone so I can have the experience for myself. They open officially at around 9 a.m., but I like to pull up around 8 or 8:15, right as they’re setting up, with the last drops of dew on everything before it’s open to the public.
Wednesday, April 29
I wake up at 5:55 a.m. Train, then oatmeal with walnuts, apples, and dried cherries.
I work on some verses in my home studio until it’s time to go to 30 Rock. But first, lunch at Blue Ribbon on 58th Street. I’m a loyalist. I support old-school New York and New Jersey establishments who’ve managed to maintain the bar, like Blue Ribbon or Sea Fire Grill on the East Side. I’ve been going to Blue Ribbon for over 20 years — maybe 17 years at the 58th Street location. And I can only assume I’m helping keep the lights on at Sea Fire Grill with my frequent crab-legs lunch order.
I always get the kanpachi, which is thinly sliced amberjack with yuzu pepper on top. Today, I also get popcorn-shrimp tempura and the New York strip steak. I love the pepper sauce that they serve with their steak. It rivals the honey wasabi sauce that they became famous for serving with their fried chicken. I always kick myself when I leave Blue Ribbon without a portion of oxtail fried rice, but next time. They offer me sticky rice rolls on the house. I also have a mezcal.
I keep it going when I get to NBC, sharing mezcal and tequila with the Roots guys while we’ve been rehearsing for Roots Picnic.
At 4 p.m., I get coffee from La Maison du Chocolat inside 30 Rock. They have really good ice cream, which is a little-known fact. Nobody goes to the chocolate-candy store for ice cream, but it’s something I know after working at 30 Rock for this many years. If I don’t go there for coffee, I’ll have the coffee they serve at NBC in the cafeteria. It’s La Colombe, which I love and have rocked with for a long time because it’s a Philly company.
I get back home around seven with a rotisserie chicken from Hudson & Charles, which is a personal favorite of mine. We also have green beans and purple potatoes from the farmers’ market. We get a lot of meat and produce from the farmers’ market, but I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention River Bend Farm. Years ago, my wife and I were part of a CSA, and that’s where a lot of their stuff came from. And when it ended, we cut out the middleman and started driving to the farm, which is about 40 minutes away. I still get out there at least once a month, or I’ll have my assistant go. Or when my 26-year-old son Ahmir is less busy, I’m like, “Yo, I need you to go to the farm.”
Thursday, April 30
I wake up at 5:20 and train at 5:30. After, I have oatmeal with walnuts and cherries.
I work in my home studio until it’s time to go to 30 Rock. Before that, I go to Fish Cheeks for their Isan-style grilled chicken, crab fried rice, and sautéed cabbage.
On a typical day, my schedule at NBC depends on if I’m in a sketch or two that I have to rehearse. By the time I arrive, there will have been a couple of stand-ins or interns who’ve run through the bits for camera and lighting’s sake. Then, we’ll rehearse the stuff Jimmy is interested in seeing together. There’s a short period after during which Jimmy decides what’s going to be put on ice, what’s getting the ax, and what’s making the cut for the night.
Often on Thursdays, there’s a comedian, which means no musical guests. I’m able to get out relatively quickly, around 6 or 6:30, and I rush from work to my son Tarik’s soccer game. Tarik takes soccer seriously. He’s in the fourth grade, and he got into it a couple of years ago. I took him on tour with me to Europe and he got to visit the stadium where Real Madrid plays, and something clicked for him.
I bring chicken sandwiches for my wife and son from Papa d’Amour, the new Dominique Ansel spot. The chicken sandwiches are on really delicate, fluffy, white bread. It’s a handleable, manageable square. It’s artistic.
Friday, May 1
I sleep in until 8 a.m. It’s the one day this week I’m not training, because yesterday was my trainer’s birthday. On my trainer’s birthday every year, he goes bananas. He eats at least one apple pie in its entirety, sometimes two whole pies, and, like, a half-gallon of ice cream with whipped cream. So he’s always sick the next day.
I get coffee from the Able Baker in Maplewood, which also serves La Colombe. My wife has a doctor’s appointment, and my son and I go with her. My son asked me to take him and his classmate to the mall, so after the appointment, we head to the Short Hills Mall. We try to get lunch at Ruth’s Chris Steak House, but they’re not open yet. Then we remember that for years, we would go to the restaurant inside Neiman Marcus because it was a hidden gem. It’s not as good as it was 15 years ago, but it also doesn’t disappoint. There’s this warm monkey bread that they’ve served for years and a hot chicken broth, a sort of palate cleanser and gut-biome regulator thing. The grilled salmon is good, and I have it with a Caesar salad. My wife has a lobster roll, which is also nice. Everyone is happy.
We spend the rest of the afternoon taking the boys around the mall. It turns out the whole reason my son pitched going to the mall was for a sneaker-shopping excursion. Two of his boys wind up joining us, and I end up buying everyone shoes.
After, my son asks to go and kick it at a friend’s house, but at this point, it’s the evening, and I have a feeling that he’s about to con me into hanging there overnight and a sleepover. Sure enough, “Can you drive me over to my boy’s house?” turns into, “Can you bring me stuff now that I’m sleeping over?” He asks me to bring a bunch of hair products, like a durag, a particular oil, and some leave-in conditioner.
Michelle and I hang out at home. We had a late lunch, so we skip dinner but have ice cream. I have not been honest with my trainer about my ice-cream consumption. I have Morgenstern’s at least three nights a week. This week, I’ve been rocking out on their raspberry kefir flavor. It’s slightly sweet, but also tangy, with raspberry swirls. It reminds me of when we used to OD on Pinkberry every day.
Saturday, May 2
I wake up at 6 a.m. Back to training.
For breakfast, I have an asparagus-and-cheese pastry from Artie’s in Maplewood. I skip the farmers’ market today because Tarik has a string recital at Carnegie Hall today, which he and his classmates have been prepping for a few months.
We pick Tarik up from his sleepover and spend the morning preparing — getting his clothes together, making sure he’s comfortable, looking over his music. It’s good we did that, because we realize that he left his sheet music in his locker at school, so we email the director at Carnegie asking to print out separate sheet music.
We get there, and it’s crazy. The line is around the block! People are turning out for their kids, of course. And people on the street just want to know who’s playing because the line is so long. And it’s like, This is an elementary- and middle-school recital.
Tarik is so underwhelmed. He just picked up violin this year, and he doesn’t plan to take it next year. If even one of his close friends or his inner circle of boys were doing it too, he would be more engaged. But they do a great job. One day, my son is going to look back at it and say, “Damn, I played Carnegie Hall!” But I’m not gonna lie: During the performance, it was hard for me to stay alert at points. Between the elementary- and middle-schoolers, it ends up being three and a half hours long.
For dinner, we celebrate at Acadia. It’s right across the street from 6 Avenue Tailor, this dude that I’ve been taking my clothes to for about 15 years at this point. Back when there was a different restaurant in that space, I would get food there after dropping off or picking up clothes. I was confident that the food would be comparable to what it used to be.
As we’re walking down 57th, my wife says, “Let’s just go to Nobu.” And I go, “Nah.” I’m set on Acadia. I have the rotisserie Amish chicken, my son has a burger, and my father-in-law has cod. I’m telling myself, I hope it’s good so I don’t catch any flack from my wife. I hate that I have to say this, but it isn’t.
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