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Mon, February 18
I Love Dead Presidents Day
Today was the kind of day we New Yorkers don't yet deserve. We haven't had to deal with that much cold and snow to already have the gift of a spring-like day. But deserve it or not, I sure enjoyed it! J and I strolled down to Da Silvano's for lunch and people watching. I know, I sound all blase about eating a $16 artichoke, but I think it did taste better just because it was so expensive. Also, I could have made a meal out of their bread after having been gluten free for so long. Mmmmm bread.
Weekend so far was fab. Friday night we went to Jersey to go to temple with my parents and to hear my dad speak about fertility and the Bible. He gave a wonderful speech about how science and technology may put a sperm and an egg together, but God (or some unknown mysterious force) is what turns that combination into a living thing with a soul. He also referenced Superman, Young Frankenstein, and gollums. You know...To bring it to layman's terms.
I fell asleep on my thirteen-year-old sister's bed before the car came to get us. Meanwhile my sister entertained J with ramblings about how she needs to buy a new bikini for our upcoming family vacation.
(News! She went to Abercrombie and bought TWO bikinis, in fact, just yesterday!)
I finally went to the Monday Room at Public. The sommelier was hysterical-looking. My friends and I could barely contain a laugh every time he came to pour us another glass of wine: He had an eccentric Charlie Chaplin like moustache, overgrown hair that covered half his face, dark-rimmed nerd glasses, a tight-fitting European suit, and a Borat-like accent to boot. Now, I am sure I will see him in the New York Magazine Look Book pages next week, but c'mon. He's like, a Borat. Ok, an extremely nice Borat who brought out a fantastic tasting menu that paired things I'd never thought of eating together, like pickled beets and eel with an egg on top or ravioli with snail and foie gras inside. We had a great time, but I think I am off of wine for a while.
Today I had a bad experience at Balthazar. I was waiting to meet my friend Julie-Anne, and figured I'd put our names down for a table. How bad could it be on a Monday when most people are getting back from their long-weekends? I saw Yoko Ono and Sean Lennon sitting against the back wall where J and I usually sit. I guess I am not "usual" enough because the hostess explained that they were all booked up for the rest of brunch. I waited by the bar for Julie-Anne to arrive. Next thing I know she's standing by the hostess's podium and being ushered to a table for two. "They know me here," she explained. But still! Why was I treated like a common tourist?!? I made sure to give the hostess the evil eye on my way out.
So that's the restaurant run down. Basically, this weekend could be boiled down to the following activities: EAT, PRAY, HATE. Sort of like the NYTimes bestselling book, but more...you know, real.
Posted by lexzog at February 18, 2008 07:10 PM
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