As an avid New York Magazine reader, I can’t image what life would be like when enticed by restaurant openings, concerts and events and unable to have the opportunity to see what it’s all about. Whether I actually go or not, at least I have the peace of mind that I’m close enough to make it; effort is just the key.
As a born and raised native New Yorker, my dear friend Lizbo, has lived in LA for the last 2+ years but yet still reads New York Mag religiously. She carefully dog ears her must-see plays, must-eat restaurants and all that falls in between. She has quite the archive. So when she returns to New York for holidays, special occasions and her routine summer check-in she has a full list of places she wants to go. It’s her only opportunity to put face to name so to speak.
Last week, I took off a day from work to indulge in a day of fun with Lizbo. Originally we planned this as a girlie day for spa treatments, shopping and lunch but with lack of funds and laziness setting in we settled on lunch. Plus we had to save our energy for a night of debauchery in celebration of A.Duh’s bday. As Lizbo and I tried to decide on a restaurant, Lizbo said she would reference her archived “Cheap Eats” issue of New York Magazine—this is they type of things she saves it for. One of the establishments mentioned was Bar Stuzzichini. We quickly settled on this for its equidistant location and promise for one of Lizbo’s favorite foods Gnocci.
Lizbo is a pretty simple eater and by simple I mean she safely and consistently eats kid food ie. Burgers, pizza, French fries and of course the exotic gnocci. Her usual highlight of New York Mag’s cheap eats is the burger joint section—and she’s pretty much hit up most of these places in Manhattan. I fondly remember last time she was in NY--meeting her at Zip Burger (on 52nd and 2nd) to find her sitting quietly in a booth by herself methodically eating her organic burger with Belgian cut fries and a milk shake to wash it down. However, throughout the years Lizbo she has attempted to branch out. And I give her credit for this.
Bar Stuzzichini was another one of Lizbo’s branching out moments. She awaited my late arrival for about 20 minutes (sorry- the subways!) with a glass of diet coke and a menu. When I ordered a diet coke as well, the waiter brought over a quarter bottle with the sode for refill. I thought this was the cutest touch—traditionally only served this way with wine. We scanned the menu; Lizbo looking for items she would potentially eat; me fixated on the eggplant parmigiana. The waiter arrived to answer any questions and Lizbo queried, “So the gnocci..is that spicy? What’s actually in that?” The waiter answered, “Yes it’s spicy with prosciutto- but it’s very good.” “Hmm… yeah, I don’t think that’s going to work, “ Lizbo replied. “And what about the crispy chicken? Just how crispy is it?” she asked. The conversation continued and Lizbo decided on the chicken to my surprise. I asked the waiter as well, “Is the eggplant breaded? Just how breaded?” He answered that it wasn’t breaded and it was petite. I give him credit for being able to answer such questions of ours.
We started with the meatballs- which were 5 tiny round balls that were completed breaded on the outside and what seemed to be a blend of meat on the inside. They almost looked like little falafel balls. Lizbo and I agreed they weren’t our fav yet we couldn’t help but finish the moist balls one by one. Shortly after, our mains arrived—which were simply presented no sides or garnish nonsense. Lizbo’s chicken cooked to what looked like brown crisp perfection on the bone and my eggplant that looked like a slice of eggplant layered lasagna. I really loved my dish- a light tasty tomato sauce and everything was moist and perfectly cooked. Reminded me of the eggplant parm at ‘inoteca on Rivington Street if not better. Lizbo wasn’t in love with her food; she liked the crispy parts of the chicken but thought you can taste every piece of the inside (not sure if that’s good or bad). As she described the meatballs as “mealy” she also described the chicken.
After I server removed our plates, Lizbo ordered a canola and a glass of Muscat and I ordered a cappuccino. I asked for a skim cap and the waiter said they only had whole but that there was barely any milk in it; it was mainly foam. When the cup arrived- I’d never seen anything like it; a shot of espresso on the bottom of what seemed to be a foam party on top. I couldn’t help but think of Mugatu from Zoolander. As I tried to enjoy my foam, I became quite jealous of Lizbo’s Muscat, which didn’t not come in classic dessert wine glass but rather what seemed to be a goblet. 5 minutes later, I ordered my own.
Before the bill even arrived, Lizbo and I realized this probably wouldn’t be the “Cheap Eats” lunch we had originally anticipated. Much of the time what NY Mag considers Cheap is not what underpaid 20 somethings consider to be frugal. Although I must say the dinner prices at Bar Stuzzichini are the same as lunch- so most of the entrees are under 25 (which is great for dinner) as long as you pay for sides ala carte and you are aware of the smaller side portions. Many reviews have said to actually just order a ton of the small plates, which was the opposite of what Lizbo and I did. But hey we’re backwards sort of people. Would definitely say to go for dinner rather than lunch- although the atmosphere is a little chain-restauranty (at first glance from the marble bar top I thought it would be cute but from a birds eye view the red décor is a little off-putting). We also sat for a long time over due and the service left us alone to continue our chatter storm and bask in our muscatos.
I’m just happy that we were able to fufill the Lizbo vision and allow her to travel cross the continent to actualize her reading. It's so much better to be able to taste it.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Sunday, November 4, 2007
The Notorious Bunch
The other night while out to dinner for my friend's bday at Snack Taverna in the West Village over braised short ribs with pumpkin puree and pancetta (which was YUM!), someone posed the question, "What's your favorite restaurant in New York?" to each person at the table. I was dumb founded. There was no way I would be able to answer that question with a single entry. I thought maybe I could break it down by cuisine but even then its near impossible. How do I answer French? High end would be Chantarelle or maybe Per Se... but that's special occassion dining...on the normal dining experience it would be Jubilee...or maybe Cafe Joul? My mind raced.
So now I pose a new question. What restaurant do you dislike the most in New York? The worst food...horrible service...would never return type place. With so many great establishments around the city, it's hard to even identify these places. So often eateries are publicized for the trendy atmosphere or celebrity owners and we forget that patrons actually go to there to eat.
I can't say for sure where any of the restaurants below fall in my top list of "most unappetizing dining experiences" but if they are on this list at all, it's not a good thing in general.
English is Italian- Recently closed English is Italian promised celeb chef success. Unfortunately for Todd English, the place fell WAY short. I went there a couple of years ago for lunch during Restaurant Week. The service was slow and unattentive during business lunch hours, which proves less customers than dinner service and more antsy patrons anxious to get back to work. The food was over salty and for a salt-lover like myself that says a lot. I can't remember exactly what I ate because I all I remember is the sodium overdose. Not a memory I'd like to look back on.
Punch- I went to Punch three time all together. The first two times were decent..nothing to write home about nothing to complain about but in a conveniant location to the movie theater and an equi distant point for gathering, I returned a third time only to be severly disappointed. The service was weird and awkward. It felt like everyone was on their first night and the Maitre D' actually made me feel uncomfortable. The scallops I had the second time I was at Punch were great...the third time, not so much. If a restaurant can't be consistent, whats the point in returning?
China Grill-Another restuarant week outing gone horribly awry. This place was completely overhyped. From unattentive service to soggy and congealed dumplings and the kicker of cold entrees- this place definitely takes the cake. As I've said before, I'd rather go to PF Changs for better food, service and ambiance and that's pretty pathetic since the chain establishments are usually associated with strip malls.
I'm sure there are many more to add to this list, but I'll leave it at these three for now. Somehow its easier to narrow it down to three bad restaurants than 3 favorite restaurants..there are just too many good ones to pick from.
So now I pose a new question. What restaurant do you dislike the most in New York? The worst food...horrible service...would never return type place. With so many great establishments around the city, it's hard to even identify these places. So often eateries are publicized for the trendy atmosphere or celebrity owners and we forget that patrons actually go to there to eat.
I can't say for sure where any of the restaurants below fall in my top list of "most unappetizing dining experiences" but if they are on this list at all, it's not a good thing in general.
English is Italian- Recently closed English is Italian promised celeb chef success. Unfortunately for Todd English, the place fell WAY short. I went there a couple of years ago for lunch during Restaurant Week. The service was slow and unattentive during business lunch hours, which proves less customers than dinner service and more antsy patrons anxious to get back to work. The food was over salty and for a salt-lover like myself that says a lot. I can't remember exactly what I ate because I all I remember is the sodium overdose. Not a memory I'd like to look back on.
Punch- I went to Punch three time all together. The first two times were decent..nothing to write home about nothing to complain about but in a conveniant location to the movie theater and an equi distant point for gathering, I returned a third time only to be severly disappointed. The service was weird and awkward. It felt like everyone was on their first night and the Maitre D' actually made me feel uncomfortable. The scallops I had the second time I was at Punch were great...the third time, not so much. If a restaurant can't be consistent, whats the point in returning?
China Grill-Another restuarant week outing gone horribly awry. This place was completely overhyped. From unattentive service to soggy and congealed dumplings and the kicker of cold entrees- this place definitely takes the cake. As I've said before, I'd rather go to PF Changs for better food, service and ambiance and that's pretty pathetic since the chain establishments are usually associated with strip malls.
I'm sure there are many more to add to this list, but I'll leave it at these three for now. Somehow its easier to narrow it down to three bad restaurants than 3 favorite restaurants..there are just too many good ones to pick from.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
The American Looking Glass
While I lived in London, I gained an overwhelming generalized sentiment of pro-Europe. Call it reverse ethno-centrisim although I wouldn't necessarily think it was anti-American. It was more of the idea that we, Americans, should take our heads out of our asses, stop thinking we're better than everyone else, and open our eyes to the world. This comes in two falvors: a very over-arching general way be it politics and world issues as well as a drilled down day to day feeling from annoying Red Sox Fans in Boston to the Starbucks phenomena.
I began to believe that everything was better across the pond from culture and attitude to espresso and men. While I haven't nearly lost that feeling, I've learned to cope with this by feeding my itch every now and again and traveling to new places.
One thing I did not get hooked on while living in London was British TV. While some of my flatmates swore by Eastenders and Big Brother(the UK edition), I found myself fiending for some Sex and the City and good ol' trashy MTV reality shows. Not to say British TV isn't trashy..because, it can damn well be even worse than the US but I feel comfort in mindless and numbing programming.
When Gordon Ramasay's Hell's Kitchen show arrived in the states, I was pretty excited to become an avid viewer. I became an instant fan of the chef while in London when eating at his restaurant on Hospital Road. So when the show first aired, I would insesently try to watch the show but failed miserably. I couldn't get into it. Ramsay seemed like such a dick; no way to get through his cold heart. Deep down, I knew this was all an act but I stopped watching the show shortly after I started.
More recently, his new show Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares debuted. When I saw the ads for this show, I stayed far away. It seemed like just a bunch of yelling at poor souls. I wanted nothing to do with it and never even gave it a try.
Cut to two weeks ago- bored, channel surfing on my couch in a hung over haze one Saturday morning (okay, fine..it was the afternoon). I see Gordon Ramsay's face flash across the screen as I cliked through the channels. Upon first hearing the narration, I knew straight off the bat this was not American. I had never seen Ramsay portrayed as serious or in documentary style. US TV likes to make Ramsay into a fanatical character; the asshole chef who made it big and now makes wanna-be chefs suffer through hell. I hesitated but then began to watch and soon realized I was watching BBC America and the UK version of the show.
I watched the whole segment: Ramsay helping a family run an upstairs-restaurant and make it (with profit) while their chef (also a family member) suffers through alcohol addiction. It was actually quite heart-warming and Ramsay is with the family throughout the entire ordeal helping them along the way...and yes, CARING. It was incredible to me how different this man was by just watching him in UK programming instead of the US. To think how many Americans have wrote off this chef because of his temper and mistreatment when really behind all this is a warm and nurturing human.
Just like Ramsay was presented to me through an American looking glass, the world has been presented to me as well. It's of no surprise that once overseas, the world (and Ramsay) looked different. If nothing else, watching this show made me remember why I loved it across the ocean so much and brought my original sentiment back. Now the big quesiton is when can I return?
I began to believe that everything was better across the pond from culture and attitude to espresso and men. While I haven't nearly lost that feeling, I've learned to cope with this by feeding my itch every now and again and traveling to new places.
One thing I did not get hooked on while living in London was British TV. While some of my flatmates swore by Eastenders and Big Brother(the UK edition), I found myself fiending for some Sex and the City and good ol' trashy MTV reality shows. Not to say British TV isn't trashy..because, it can damn well be even worse than the US but I feel comfort in mindless and numbing programming.
When Gordon Ramasay's Hell's Kitchen show arrived in the states, I was pretty excited to become an avid viewer. I became an instant fan of the chef while in London when eating at his restaurant on Hospital Road. So when the show first aired, I would insesently try to watch the show but failed miserably. I couldn't get into it. Ramsay seemed like such a dick; no way to get through his cold heart. Deep down, I knew this was all an act but I stopped watching the show shortly after I started.
More recently, his new show Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares debuted. When I saw the ads for this show, I stayed far away. It seemed like just a bunch of yelling at poor souls. I wanted nothing to do with it and never even gave it a try.
Cut to two weeks ago- bored, channel surfing on my couch in a hung over haze one Saturday morning (okay, fine..it was the afternoon). I see Gordon Ramsay's face flash across the screen as I cliked through the channels. Upon first hearing the narration, I knew straight off the bat this was not American. I had never seen Ramsay portrayed as serious or in documentary style. US TV likes to make Ramsay into a fanatical character; the asshole chef who made it big and now makes wanna-be chefs suffer through hell. I hesitated but then began to watch and soon realized I was watching BBC America and the UK version of the show.
I watched the whole segment: Ramsay helping a family run an upstairs-restaurant and make it (with profit) while their chef (also a family member) suffers through alcohol addiction. It was actually quite heart-warming and Ramsay is with the family throughout the entire ordeal helping them along the way...and yes, CARING. It was incredible to me how different this man was by just watching him in UK programming instead of the US. To think how many Americans have wrote off this chef because of his temper and mistreatment when really behind all this is a warm and nurturing human.
Just like Ramsay was presented to me through an American looking glass, the world has been presented to me as well. It's of no surprise that once overseas, the world (and Ramsay) looked different. If nothing else, watching this show made me remember why I loved it across the ocean so much and brought my original sentiment back. Now the big quesiton is when can I return?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
re: To Age Gracefully
And the response to Ms.Wild Ginger's letter:
Dear Ms. Ginger,
First and foremost, we would like to apologize for the embarrassing situation that occurred in the restaurant last night. Because of our surrounding area which includes many nightclubs and high profile eateries, we are often the target of "stings" by police enforcement and they have sent many patrons into our restaurant that match your physical description. We have to err on the side of caution as it can lead to the closing of the restaurant. We are a neighborhood restaurant and while we certainly did not mean to insult you, these patrons that are undercover also use state issued ID cards rather than driver's licenses while also looking very young and fresh faced!
I have spoken with the Manager and he assured me that he was not trying to issue any hostility towards you and he did know that you have been in before as it is recorded in our Open Table reservation system. If he offended you in any other way except refusing to serve you, I need to know that so we can further discuss it with him. However a judgment call was made in favor of keeping our business alive so we can continue to serve the neighborhood and loyal customers like yourself. Again, we apologize and would like to see you again soon. If you do decide to return, please have dinner for two on us. If you wish to have your name deleted from our system, please advise. While it is not our wish for you to do so, your decision will be respected and granted. If you would like to speak to me directly, please do not hesitate to call me. I am here everyday until 3:00 save Thursday and Sunday.
I appreciate you taking the time to write to us,
Sincerely,
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What's the point of recording clients in open table if not to better serve them? Did they add a comment- looks underage? I mean Cmon....
Dear Ms. Ginger,
First and foremost, we would like to apologize for the embarrassing situation that occurred in the restaurant last night. Because of our surrounding area which includes many nightclubs and high profile eateries, we are often the target of "stings" by police enforcement and they have sent many patrons into our restaurant that match your physical description. We have to err on the side of caution as it can lead to the closing of the restaurant. We are a neighborhood restaurant and while we certainly did not mean to insult you, these patrons that are undercover also use state issued ID cards rather than driver's licenses while also looking very young and fresh faced!
I have spoken with the Manager and he assured me that he was not trying to issue any hostility towards you and he did know that you have been in before as it is recorded in our Open Table reservation system. If he offended you in any other way except refusing to serve you, I need to know that so we can further discuss it with him. However a judgment call was made in favor of keeping our business alive so we can continue to serve the neighborhood and loyal customers like yourself. Again, we apologize and would like to see you again soon. If you do decide to return, please have dinner for two on us. If you wish to have your name deleted from our system, please advise. While it is not our wish for you to do so, your decision will be respected and granted. If you would like to speak to me directly, please do not hesitate to call me. I am here everyday until 3:00 save Thursday and Sunday.
I appreciate you taking the time to write to us,
Sincerely,
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What's the point of recording clients in open table if not to better serve them? Did they add a comment- looks underage? I mean Cmon....
To Age Gracefully...
As an unfathomable follow-up to the below post, I give you Ginger's grievance letter to the management at Crispo. I know that some of us do look young, but twice in one month is unreal...and this time, even with all the proper documentation, the management refused to serve.
Good Morning,
My name is Wild Ginger I am a 25 year old female who has lived in the Meatpacking District, XXX West 14th Street Apartment X -to be exact, for the last three years. I have frequented your restaurant quite often in both large groups or for dinner with a single companion.
Last night I was involved in one of the most utter embarrassing and blatantly disrespectful incidents I have ever experienced from any restaurant staff. I had met my friend T(also 25 years old) at your restaurant and asked the host for a table for two in your garden. The host sat us without the wine menu, so when the waitress asked for our beverage order we had said we were interested in a bottle of Montepulciano. Since there are three offered at your restaurant, she brought the menu and after we selected one, she kindly asked to see our IDs. Tand I do have young faces so we happily obliged. Five minutes after being carded by the waitress and her leaving the tableside , the older male host (who we later learned was also the manager) came back over and asked to see our IDs again. Noticing other patrons were starting to watch the commotion at our table, I unsmilingly handed over our IDs. He took our State issued New York and New Jersey (T) IDs for five minutes, came back and said 'he did not believe they were real and he could not serve us, but if we liked we could stay for dinner.' T being flabbergasted said she could provide a wallet full of backup but he refused. I, being mortified, already knew that the meal was over before it had begun. We promptly stood up and asked him to speak to a manager to which he replied that he was.
There is no explanation I can possibly think of in this world as to why the man was so incredibly rude and disrespectful to us. We are two attractive, young looking, and stylish girls. Additionally, given how often we have frequented your restaurant, I am surprised at this point that he does not recognize us-which one would think any respectful restaurant appropriately does to its returning clientele.
Since I was also in Crispo on Saturday October 13 at around 8:15pm (yes I used to frequent Crispo that often) I am asking you to look up my receipts. Check your database as well, as reservations with other parties I have brought to your business are also made in my name. I am sure that my frequent patronage although has gone unnoticed by the incompetent Crispo staff is documented somewhere. Please provide me with a contact for the supervisor of the male manager who was on duty last night, as well as any possible (though improbable) explanation for the horrible incident that occurred last night. Also be sure delete me from your database of patrons. Please also be advised that this email will be followed up accordingly.
Best,
Wild Ginger
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And to be followed up accordingly we mean posted publically on 3 course discourse.
Good Morning,
My name is Wild Ginger I am a 25 year old female who has lived in the Meatpacking District, XXX West 14th Street Apartment X -to be exact, for the last three years. I have frequented your restaurant quite often in both large groups or for dinner with a single companion.
Last night I was involved in one of the most utter embarrassing and blatantly disrespectful incidents I have ever experienced from any restaurant staff. I had met my friend T(also 25 years old) at your restaurant and asked the host for a table for two in your garden. The host sat us without the wine menu, so when the waitress asked for our beverage order we had said we were interested in a bottle of Montepulciano. Since there are three offered at your restaurant, she brought the menu and after we selected one, she kindly asked to see our IDs. Tand I do have young faces so we happily obliged. Five minutes after being carded by the waitress and her leaving the tableside , the older male host (who we later learned was also the manager) came back over and asked to see our IDs again. Noticing other patrons were starting to watch the commotion at our table, I unsmilingly handed over our IDs. He took our State issued New York and New Jersey (T) IDs for five minutes, came back and said 'he did not believe they were real and he could not serve us, but if we liked we could stay for dinner.' T being flabbergasted said she could provide a wallet full of backup but he refused. I, being mortified, already knew that the meal was over before it had begun. We promptly stood up and asked him to speak to a manager to which he replied that he was.
There is no explanation I can possibly think of in this world as to why the man was so incredibly rude and disrespectful to us. We are two attractive, young looking, and stylish girls. Additionally, given how often we have frequented your restaurant, I am surprised at this point that he does not recognize us-which one would think any respectful restaurant appropriately does to its returning clientele.
Since I was also in Crispo on Saturday October 13 at around 8:15pm (yes I used to frequent Crispo that often) I am asking you to look up my receipts. Check your database as well, as reservations with other parties I have brought to your business are also made in my name. I am sure that my frequent patronage although has gone unnoticed by the incompetent Crispo staff is documented somewhere. Please provide me with a contact for the supervisor of the male manager who was on duty last night, as well as any possible (though improbable) explanation for the horrible incident that occurred last night. Also be sure delete me from your database of patrons. Please also be advised that this email will be followed up accordingly.
Best,
Wild Ginger
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And to be followed up accordingly we mean posted publically on 3 course discourse.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Awk-ward
With the ridiculously busy schedules everyone has, it's impossible to get Doogs, Ging, ADuh and myself for dinner together. Doogs is busy holding ovaries and studying bacteria in med school, A Duh is slaving a way in the name of beauty for her PR firm, and Ging is running around meat packing with a bunch of Frenchies. (I think I might have just given away the psuedoynyms of these 3 characters..ha). In any case, when we spontaneously planned a dinner for last Saturday night and everyone was able to make it, it was a wonderful surprise...and to make matters better, Ging was going to a party up town and didn't mind going the distance for the restaurant so uptown (above 14th street) was our oyster.
Originally, we tried to get into Rosa Mexicana but their next availability for 4 was 10pm and we said forget it. I did some research and read about this restaurant Fiorini that had just opened at the end of August. It sounded great--traditional Italian fare with a bit of modernism. It was opened by Donatella Arpaia’s (of famed Donatella and Burke, and the short lived Dona) father Lello (whose last restaurant was Bellini). The few reviews I found online said "Get here fast..before it's impossible to get in" so I thought that it would be a great opportunity.
When I arrived the last of the 4 to the restaurant, I could see through the window three young women amongst a sea of old people in proper jackets with a sprinkling of well established gay men in their 40s wearing pasley wall-papered shirts. As Ging put it best, "I wondered if my watch was wrong and it was really 5:30- was this the early bird special?" I soon learned that was the least of the awkwardness.
I sat down to the table and in usual ritual- Doogs handed me the wine list..I deferred to Ging as I'm not that familiar with Italian wine. Scanning through the menu, I found a slew of entrees I desired and narrowed it down to the tuna steak and the roasted swordfish with tomato olive and caper sauce. The table chose 2 appetizers to split - the asparagus with breads crumbs lemon and butter and the grilled calamari with mixed greens. When the server came over, it was like all chaos broke loose. He took Doogs's order and then as Ging ordered the 2nd app he mentioned they didnt have any calamari left. We scrambled to find a 2nd app while Aduh asked for a suggestion which the server was answering with dishes that contained speck and other delicacies Aduh would def not touch. She ended up with classic spaghetti and meatballs. I opted for the swordfish...we tried to order the clams as our 2nd app instead but it seemed unclear if the waiter got that. We thought- "Well at least we ordered our wine.."
The sommelier came out with our wine and the first words to exit his mouth were, "Are you all 21?" ADuh and Ging joked they were 17 & 18 but I guess that wasn't the time to joke. He poured our wine and I tasted..swiching the glass in circular motions on the table before the red contents entered my mouth. Would a 19 yr old really have the know how to properly taste a glass of wine? (well I guess..I think I knew how when I was 19). Anyways as much as that brought attention to our table in the small restaurant, the embarassment wasn't over yet. The sommelier returned to ask for one of our IDs! How inappropriate!! Everyone at the table was 24 and 25 years old and we were at a nice restaurant. I don't ever remember being actually carded at a restaurant that was supposed to have class. If they wondered--they asked and took your word for it. The elderly woman next to us started saying loudly, "Are those girls getting carded?!" Regardless to say, the steward had already poured our wine..what would he have done if we were under age? Take back our glasses? He returned with Doogs ID to say, "You girls are going to age gracefully..blah blah blah." Yes, we know that already- thanks for sharing and making our dinner extremely awkward by shining the fact that were 50 years younger than everyone else in the restaurant.
Then our appetizer came..and yes, I say that singularly. Our waiter did not 'catch' the clams although we said it twice and a plate of asparagus came out for the table.
A server put two pieces of asparagus on each of our plates, while saying "Well..it's not going to be much" with a snicker. The experience was just getting better and better. One thing I do have to say- although I would NEVER go back if you're under 35 or look young for your age for fear of majorly awkward meal, is that the food was really great. Everything was super fresh and tasty with subtle details that made the difference. The asparagus was beefy with the perfect ratio of lemon to butter lightly on the stalk. My swordfish was delicious with probably the best tomatoe olive caper sauce I've ever had- as it was just the right salt factor in a sauce that can be completely over saltified easily. Doogs loved her spinach gnocci as did Ging really enjoy her chicken with sausage in wine sauce. Even ADuh' spaghetti and meatballs was elegantly put together.
In addition to the staff and our fellow diners making us feel uncomfortable, there was the "we can't talk about our usual subject matter" awkwardness- yes, that means no hot lunch talk and other materials from urban dictionary. Usually 1 out of 5 words that comes out of Ging's mouth is about sex or something otherwise inappropriate. Everytime she uttered the words, "Sex, dick, masterbate" she had to whisper, which I must say was pretty hillarious. "He has a girlfriend but he told me he wanted to have (whisper) sex with me." And that's probably the cleanest of the statements.
When the dessert menus came, we couldn't even think of staying another instant in the restaurant. We wanted to run for our lives so we opted for some dessert wine at my place (ala Daddy K). As soon as we left the doors behind us, we felt a sigh of relief--we were so happy to be out of that awkwardness and onto the streets (where obviously anything goes).
As we were walked into my apartment, Ging started telling a story starting with the phrase "If I had a dick..." Ahh, it's good to be a mature 24 year old at home with her friends...
Originally, we tried to get into Rosa Mexicana but their next availability for 4 was 10pm and we said forget it. I did some research and read about this restaurant Fiorini that had just opened at the end of August. It sounded great--traditional Italian fare with a bit of modernism. It was opened by Donatella Arpaia’s (of famed Donatella and Burke, and the short lived Dona) father Lello (whose last restaurant was Bellini). The few reviews I found online said "Get here fast..before it's impossible to get in" so I thought that it would be a great opportunity.
When I arrived the last of the 4 to the restaurant, I could see through the window three young women amongst a sea of old people in proper jackets with a sprinkling of well established gay men in their 40s wearing pasley wall-papered shirts. As Ging put it best, "I wondered if my watch was wrong and it was really 5:30- was this the early bird special?" I soon learned that was the least of the awkwardness.
I sat down to the table and in usual ritual- Doogs handed me the wine list..I deferred to Ging as I'm not that familiar with Italian wine. Scanning through the menu, I found a slew of entrees I desired and narrowed it down to the tuna steak and the roasted swordfish with tomato olive and caper sauce. The table chose 2 appetizers to split - the asparagus with breads crumbs lemon and butter and the grilled calamari with mixed greens. When the server came over, it was like all chaos broke loose. He took Doogs's order and then as Ging ordered the 2nd app he mentioned they didnt have any calamari left. We scrambled to find a 2nd app while Aduh asked for a suggestion which the server was answering with dishes that contained speck and other delicacies Aduh would def not touch. She ended up with classic spaghetti and meatballs. I opted for the swordfish...we tried to order the clams as our 2nd app instead but it seemed unclear if the waiter got that. We thought- "Well at least we ordered our wine.."
The sommelier came out with our wine and the first words to exit his mouth were, "Are you all 21?" ADuh and Ging joked they were 17 & 18 but I guess that wasn't the time to joke. He poured our wine and I tasted..swiching the glass in circular motions on the table before the red contents entered my mouth. Would a 19 yr old really have the know how to properly taste a glass of wine? (well I guess..I think I knew how when I was 19). Anyways as much as that brought attention to our table in the small restaurant, the embarassment wasn't over yet. The sommelier returned to ask for one of our IDs! How inappropriate!! Everyone at the table was 24 and 25 years old and we were at a nice restaurant. I don't ever remember being actually carded at a restaurant that was supposed to have class. If they wondered--they asked and took your word for it. The elderly woman next to us started saying loudly, "Are those girls getting carded?!" Regardless to say, the steward had already poured our wine..what would he have done if we were under age? Take back our glasses? He returned with Doogs ID to say, "You girls are going to age gracefully..blah blah blah." Yes, we know that already- thanks for sharing and making our dinner extremely awkward by shining the fact that were 50 years younger than everyone else in the restaurant.
Then our appetizer came..and yes, I say that singularly. Our waiter did not 'catch' the clams although we said it twice and a plate of asparagus came out for the table.
A server put two pieces of asparagus on each of our plates, while saying "Well..it's not going to be much" with a snicker. The experience was just getting better and better. One thing I do have to say- although I would NEVER go back if you're under 35 or look young for your age for fear of majorly awkward meal, is that the food was really great. Everything was super fresh and tasty with subtle details that made the difference. The asparagus was beefy with the perfect ratio of lemon to butter lightly on the stalk. My swordfish was delicious with probably the best tomatoe olive caper sauce I've ever had- as it was just the right salt factor in a sauce that can be completely over saltified easily. Doogs loved her spinach gnocci as did Ging really enjoy her chicken with sausage in wine sauce. Even ADuh' spaghetti and meatballs was elegantly put together.
In addition to the staff and our fellow diners making us feel uncomfortable, there was the "we can't talk about our usual subject matter" awkwardness- yes, that means no hot lunch talk and other materials from urban dictionary. Usually 1 out of 5 words that comes out of Ging's mouth is about sex or something otherwise inappropriate. Everytime she uttered the words, "Sex, dick, masterbate" she had to whisper, which I must say was pretty hillarious. "He has a girlfriend but he told me he wanted to have (whisper) sex with me." And that's probably the cleanest of the statements.
When the dessert menus came, we couldn't even think of staying another instant in the restaurant. We wanted to run for our lives so we opted for some dessert wine at my place (ala Daddy K). As soon as we left the doors behind us, we felt a sigh of relief--we were so happy to be out of that awkwardness and onto the streets (where obviously anything goes).
As we were walked into my apartment, Ging started telling a story starting with the phrase "If I had a dick..." Ahh, it's good to be a mature 24 year old at home with her friends...
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