Hi Eric,
I decided to treat my accomplished ladies to a nice dinner last week, the girls for their first term grades and Jackie for finishing her manuscript on Barnabas Horton. We decided to go to one of our favorites on 5th Avenue, Belleville, only to find out it’s been turned into a kosher bistro. Have you reviewed it? Here’s mine: started off wrong by ordering a Manhattan, only to find they don’t have a liquor license or don’t care to serve cocktails; things got worse when my steak tartar arrived, totally bland and not to be fixed up with a dose of Worcestershire sauce because that evidently is not part of a kosher kitchen; ordered a second appetizer, beef tongue, because the entrees were prohibitively expensive (for me, not my daughters) which was overcooked and topped by something like a béarnaise sauce (made I presume with soy rather than cream). When the bill arrived, $300 plus, including the 18% gratuity built in, I decided to have a conversation with the young woman who had been interrupting our meal every ten minutes with the “Is everything all right question.” That was the best part of the meal. She was delightful, explaining among other things that the French don’t use horseradish with beef tongue (as my mother did). So, to sum, if I won the lottery I’d go back again with a better understanding of what I was going to be getting in my erstwhile French restaurant. (Jackie had a somewhat different experience so I’m copying her.)
I guess I assumed you’d reviewed Chagall and was curious about what you thought of it.
Ray
An urban hike began on Sunday afternoon in the slope on 5st and 5 av and headed through Hasidic Boro Park where grandma had her paint store and Moms diary suggested she went to movies 3 or 4 nights a week...then through a Bklyn Chinatown with signs for pulled noodles and dumplings....but miles later we were ushered in to Il Colloseo. I had wanted to go when we visited the Xmas lights in Dyker Hts but this was the first chance. As in my childhood at Salernos or Mama Leones this was special. A montage of family tables each a kind of diorama filled with vibrant conversation,and raw Brooklyn laughter or animated controversy punctuated by musical back of the hand jabs. The salads and broccoli rabe and the huge shrimps that i only touched with my eyes were key players but the setting was star...and the luscious buffalo margarita. And there was Vincent eating his pizza with a knife and fork asking the waiter why they were picking on the Mayor. The waiter agreed.
