mondosapore

Here's Eric. Or Erick.

My high-school friend Costanza (Cotita to her friends) asked for more pictures of my "handsome" son. Well, how I can I refuse an old New Rochellean?

Here are a couple of shots of Eric that I think won't embarrass him or anybody else, plus the cover of Golden Error's album.  These guys are pretty hardcore or old school or something.  It's in vinyl.  Also downloadable for those who have thrown out their turntables, given them to their son, or are too young to know what a turntable is.

A final thought: Be careful what you wish for.

Turntables and shitty low-res pix.  What a world my son lives in. 

Striking the rockstar pose.  It's either a) anthemic or b) he's telling a member of the audience where to find the bathroom.

Eric is the one on the right doing the early-Che Guevara impersonation.  I guess the other one's an avid fan (?!)

Another crappy low-res pic.  I think that crowd is too pure to use a digital camera.  

Seriously now, here are some lyrics he wrote a few years ago.  He told me the backstory and made me weep.  His Cleveland band, Tokyo Storm Warning, recorded it.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007 

Sabotage on the Telephone Line They said you couldn't do it All that way across the ocean They said you'd never do it "There's too much water there" They said you'd never do it All that wire across the ocean They said you'd never do it But I've seen that look in your eyes before On that day, you sailed away Scotland to Newfoundland 1500 nautical miles Deepest depths charged On that day September 25th, 1956 Heard your voice Crackling down the line Everyday Mid-afternoon In the sun room Heard your voice Crackling down the line Everyday In the sun room Mid-afternoon Your voice like a ghost And then it.....stopped! SABOTAGE ON THE TELEPHONE LINE (x6) Miscellaneous anarchists Claimed credit for this ...................................................... Now they've got microchips A million words in half a second Now they've got satellites Control your thoughts in half a second Oh how I miss those days Of copper wire Oh how I miss your eyes But they are closed forever......

Poor Kiefer. And other tales of the bartender

I met Erick for dinner at In Vino a couple of weeks ago.  I hardly recognized him because I hadn't seen him in well over a year, and he had grown a "K" at the end of his name, which his mother and I wouldn't have considered for one second.  We discussed serious matters of family, health and money (or lack thereof), and then we talked about our economically productive lives.  Such as they are.

Erick/Eric's real vocation is heading up a neo-punk band called Golden Error.  One of their popular ditties is "Fucking in the Fitting Room."  Whatever you may think of the music (Eric writes the lyrics and...sings), I wholeheartedly wish him success.  My dream is that he will support me in a not-too-abusive nursing home some day.

To keep body and soul together, Eric works in the food-and-beverage-service industry, of late most often as a bartender.  He was at Employees Only on Hudson Street in the West Village after a couple of years.  Now he works at Dark Room on the Lower East Side -- on Ludlow Street just down the block from Katz's Deli!  He has many rollicking tales of the high life in the big city.

Eric says Dark Room is one of those places that is relatively cool on weeknights with lots of LES bohemians and NYU students and less cool but more remunerative on weekends, when the B&Ts (bridge and tunnel crowd) pours in from New Jersey and Long Island.  This group is young, rich and senseless, and they spend money like water.  They're also obnoxious.  Eric told me of one incident where the customer didn't think the bartender (Eric) was moving fast enough on his order. The joint was packed.  The guy started yelling at Eric, "Hey you fucking asshole, where's my fucking drink," etc.  At which point young Mr. Hughes pushes the guy off the stool, then runs round the bar to wale on him sprawled on the floor.  The bouncers toss the guy out and laugh when he screams from the street, "Come out here, you punks," etc., etc.  The guy eventually stumbled away, ears stinging with the sounds of much derisive laughter.

One of my favorite tales concerns Kiefer Sutherland, aka "Jack Bauer" on 24. One night he walked into Employees Only very late, already drunk, and managed to be served a couple of drinks.  He stood up on the bar and sang, then fell off.  The staff told him to go home, but he went outside and was too fuddled to hail a cab.  They took him back inside and, though it was closing time, tried to sober him up a bit.  "Where do you live?"

"I dunno."

Finally they discovered his address.  But he couldn't stand up to go outside and hail the cab, so one of the staff did and took him home in the dawn's early light.  I just hope Kiefer paid him back.

Good times, everybody, good times.  

Cool places: Some new venues for Domenico Selections wines

It's happening, friends, step by step, resto by resto, wine store by wine store, consumer by tipsy consumer:

This is what I'm talking about.

Obama & Prince Harry: Good for the helicopter industry

Since the Saviour of Capitalism as We've Known It and Prince Polo have hit town, I've heard and seen helicopters everywhere.  E'en now.  Streets were closed all over Midtown last night, although it was hard to know whether it was due to some unfortunate soul's leaping in front of the E train (uptown side at 34th) or the First Couple's Date Nite.  

Two thoughts:

1. Ka-ching, ka-ching, fellow citizens.

2. "Pollution, pollution..."  (pace Tom Lehrer).

I'm just sayin'.

Party nite in Alphabet City

Click to get the illustrated summary of a balls-out tasting on Avenue C last night...

Feverish in Manhattan

So the past few days I've been enjoying my annual pre-Vinitaly bronchitis.  I've spent a lot of time on subways and buses, also of course staring at the laptop screen and going, "Huh?  What are they talking about?"

The great thing about feeling shitty and swimmy-headed is you got plenty of time.  You somehow find yourself fixing your limited conscious ability on profound and usually overlooked matters.

* Like, I wonder about the inner life of some of these Orthodox Jews.  Like, the ones listening to iPods.  What are they listening to?  A) Klezmermania!  B) The Talmud  C) Alice in Chains  D) Talmudic discussions of the righteousness of listening to Alice in Chains on Shabbat

* I'm seeing different people and different behavior on the subway.  In addition to the normal throngs of brown and black people in puffy black North Coast jackets there are more skinny, well-dressed UES matrons. No one chats or even eats much any more.  Not an access of good manners -- everyone's broke.  Depressed.

* Homeless people are re-colonizing areas that had been off limits to them for years.  It's like the mid-80's all over again -- they're camped out all over Penn Station and a number of long cleaned-up parks.  Unlike the homeless that I'd recently read about in the NYT and so on, these people are still mostly the mentally ill and/or really strung out.  I think they're being pushed out of fixed abodes, however humble and rat-infested, by the working poor.

Well, it's almost time for my codeine cough syrup.  Which is great, because I'll be nice and constipated for Vinitaly, which in turn will keep me from eating too much.  Yep, it's a win-win.    

Download Happy Days Are Here Again

 

Read this: "I like them. What are they?"

Read "I like them. What are they?" on Muddy Boots.

While you're at it, tell me what this type of eatery should be called. 

A presto!

Report: Today's Gambero Rosso Tre Bicchieri Event in New York, NY

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Supercrowded as always.  Some producers had either run out of wine or left their table by 6:30, several even sooner.  I got the impression they were saving themselves for Vinitaly.

I was there for the press briefing at 3.  There were fewer print journalists than usual and more bloggers.  The main benefits: no waiting in line and a first shot at the wines.

As usual, many more reds than whites had been awarded Tre Bicchieri.  The whites that I tasted seemed to have a narrow range of flavors and textures, as if one person had done all the tasting/judging.  Not true, of course, but it struck me that way.  There was far more diversity among the reds with regard to types and flavor profiles.

Last year I focused on the South.  This year, the North.  With of course a few in between, especially Abruzzo e Marche.

In truth I went less to taste than to observe and schmooze.  I saw a number of the usual suspects -- writers/bloggers like Koeppel (OK, so he's an accredited print journalist too), Italian Wine Guy, East Village Wine Geek, Dr. Vino and the contrarian Alice Feiring.  IWG asked me to taste a wine that Alice liked very much, one of the few.  Too barnyardy for me, ergo right up Alice's alley.

I chatted with some interesting and very engaging producers, including Stefano Illuminati, Ruggero Brunori (a neighbor of the Trevisanis and a good friend of the irrepressible Adriano Liloni), and the elegant, beautiful Elisabetta Foradori, whose Teroldegos I admire.  She said, "I put all my passion into my wines."  I replied, "It shows."  The wines mirror their maker; she looked and spoke as I would have expected after drinking her wines.

SECOND IMPRESSIONS

Sandro Boscaini of Masi will talk about Amarone

Well, what else would the man come all the way from S. Ambrogio in Valpolicella to talk about? 

Sant'Ambrogio hillside. Taken from the estate across the lane from Masi, Villa Monteleone, whose Ripasso is a knockout.

Mr. Boscaini will offer wine and insights at the Wine Media Guild's monthly luncheon tomorrow at Felidia. 

What I want to know is this:  Just how bad was the weather in Valpolicella in 2008 and what can we expect from the wines of the vintage, Amarone and otherwise? 

Understandably, it my be hard to get a straight answer to the question.  Still, I wonder if I can win some points with Boscanini by declaring my friendship with two fine personages he knows quite well, Giampiero Nadali and Elisabetta Tosi.  As I mentioned the other day, this dynamic duo have created an embryonic social network for Amarone (and more), called Terroir Amarone.  It's all in Italian now, but an English version will come soon, as Giampi tells me.

Meanwhile, I'm glad the weather will be cold and gross tomorrow -- perfect for Amarone!

Major restaurants slash wine prices

Somms weep, "Take my wine.  Please!"

This is an exception to my take-no-press-releases policy because it is so newsworthy.  Read it and weep?  Laugh?  Wonder what levels of indigence lie in our common future? 

By 2011, the US will become the world's biggest consumer of still wine according to a recent VINEXPO study.

However, this momentum could change if the economy worsens and the interest in luxury items begins to wane. To accommodate Americans growing interest in wine and their quest to save money in a down economy, Patina Restaurant Group is offering a 25% savings promotion called Wines for the Wise, on all bottles of wine purchased at several of their New York City restaurants through March 31.

The following restaurants will be participating in the Wines for the Wise program: Sea Grill, Brasserie 8½, Brasserie, Café Centro, Rock Center Cafe, and Nick & Stef’s Steakhouse

Feel free to contact me anytime for hi-res images, wine menus or other information.

Thanks,

Sevan

 Sevan Kalayjian

5W Public Relations

1120 Avenue of the Americas, 7th Fl

New York, NY 10036

M: 212.999.5585

D: 212.584.4301

E: skalayjian@5wpr.com

P

 Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail

I like the last eco-friendly touch. 

And I love the patriotic angle:  Help the USA become #1 in wine consumption.  It's up to you!

Anyway, I did contact Sevan for a few of the wine lists in question, knowing full well that the eateries in the

Domenico Selections Website: Live at Last!

Domenico Selections dot com.

We asked for something simple, clean, functional.  With a warm, sunny look.  Suggesting Mediterranean light and vitality.  Free of red-white-and-green clichés.

Yes, we do have the useful traditional map of Italy with clickable regions where we have producers.  Short but sweet regional intros - not the standard boilerplate, either, but a personal viewpoint based on our experiences and observations.  Ditto the producer profiles.  Short, factual wine spec sheets.

And watch this site grow. More producers are on the way.

Still missing: the Muddy Boots blog.  Soon, kids, soon.  And the listing of where you can find the wine, mainly because this is in flux. 

Bookmark this link.

Baci per May Matta-Aliah, who designed the Domenico Selections corporate identity program as well as the site.  She is the owner of Red-Dot-Solutions here in New York. 

One cheer for the Upper West Side

If you live in New York, you're pretty much aware that the Upper West Side isn't a haven for foodies.  In fact, even the run-of-the-mill neighborhood places don't hold a candle to similar places on the East Side, let alone the East Village, the Lower East Side, Chelsea, etc.

So it was good to read Frank Bruni's column in the Times today, in which he assigns a star to two restaurants in the UWS.  All the more because, as he notes, "While their kitchens aren’t consistent enough or their menus quite original enough to brand them destination restaurants, they have real talent in their DNA and bring serious food to a patch of Manhattan that, for all its recent strides, could still use more of it."

Speaking of DNA, though, I am reminded of the words of a well-known caterer a few years ago.  (I won't name names because I wouldn't want to cost him business in any part of town, not even the Upper West Side).

"There are three kinds of clients in this town.  There's the Downtown group, who want something different, edgy, surprising.  Then there's the Upper East Sider who wants everything to be perfect. And there's the Upper West Side -- they don't care what it is as long as there's a lot of it."

I guess this is one reason why Joan Rivers (Fifth Avenue) won't visit her daughter on the West Side.  She sends the maid instead.

The [Formerly] Mean Streets

I'm spending a lot of time walking around neighborhoods that I usually just go through or under.  Door to door, noticing charming little restaurants and wine bars that somehow are off the radar, or perhaps I should say, off my radar.  For, to my dismay, I've become like every other New Yorker, provincially centered on my own few blocks, the ones I consider home territory.  (In my case that's anything from Lex east to the river, from 57th to 49th streets.)

It's funny, too, how you build mental walls between certain neighborhoods, so that you're surprised how short the distance is between them.  Last evening, as the rain pelted and the cold gusts shredded umbrellas, I was amazed to see how purely notional designations like "The Bowery" and "NoHo" and "The East Village" can be.  A block or two on the ground and you've magically passed from one to another.  At least you should get a sign that tells you "Welcome to The Bowery" or "Entering the East Village."  And it's not just me -- I looked up a restaurant on the Net and Google showed me many results, and in the top five there were at least three descriptions of its neighborhood, e.g., "The Flatiron District", "Greenwich Village" (!) and "Union Square."  The farther downtown you go, the worse it gets.

WHAT I REALLY MEAN TO SAY...

"Cadillac Records" and a Walk in December New York

I went to 42nd Street to see "Cadillac Records," which I had read about with some anticipation.  The blues and R&B artists that were the subject of the movie -- well, they're among the greats in my book, or should I say my iPod.  The pre-release stories smelled of PR placements.  You know, how Beyoncé played it down and dirty as Etta James.  Well, yes and no.  BK was good -- actually a lot better-looking than Etta was -- but weak writing and especially an unfocused story line undermined her histrionic efforts.  Not to mention those of Eamonn Walker (as Howlin' Wolf -- it was a wasted part) and many others in the cast.  Adrien Brody was all right as Leonard Chess, one of the two brothers who started the label.  The other was Phil Chess, whose character was magically subsumed into Leonard's role. 

Jeffrey Wright gets top billing and more than redeemed this film in his portrayal as Muddy Waters.

 

Jeffrey Wright as Muddy Waters with ersatz Rolling Stones

While the actors' musical renditions were excellent -- the music is excellent even when you listen to the Rolling Stones cover it -- the entire work was weakened by the hopscotching from topic to topic, issue to issue.  What I found most frustrating was the license that was taken with the chronology of the music, and of the artists' attempts to stay current, to stay on top.  So we had a raft of anachronisms like the early Chuck Berry singing "No Particular Place to Go."  This one was recorded and a hit after Chuck's incarceration for transporting a 14-year-old girl (actually a Navaho, not white) across state lines.

While Cedric the Entertainer, playing Willie Dixon, provided the rather clunky narrative, and made several attempts to link the rise and fall of Chess Records to the Civil Rights Movement, the film devolved into a standard smack-and-booze musical biopic, with Etta James and Len Chess as the tragic lovers.  This was one more disservice to the cast -- especially the brilliant Jeffrey Wright, whose Muddy Waters provided the movie with its conscience and heart.

So what if the film highlights the seminal talents of Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Little Walter and so many others?  Here are a couple of the original songs that the greats of Chess records made.

Download 02 If The Sea Was Whiskey by Willie Dixon

Download Little Queenie by Chuck Berry

*****

After the movie I walked uptown to visit a few wine bars.  I made the colossal mistake of going up Sixth Avenue (Avenue of the Americas to you greenhorns) and heading for Fifth Ave through Rockefeller Center.  What was I thinking?  My God, it was a madhouse.  If anyone had yelled Fire, the bloody crush would have totted up a thousand lives.  As it was, I bitched and moaned about it vocally and didn't even glance at the goddamn tree.

I was surprised to see and hear so many tourists from our own country.  The news has me believing half of America is living in their car.  But no, plenty of Us were wandering around and taking in the sights, maybe even more than Them, the world's affluent refuse swarming avidly over our shores 

Well, that's it.  Happy Whatever. 

It's time to make dinner, drink wine and write drunken ravings on mondosapore once again.  Can't wait, can you?

Quickie: L'Ecole, SoHo

If you haven't been to L'Ecole, the resto of the French Culinary Institute in NYC, you've missed a treat.  We went last night for the early bird special, a four course prix fixe menu (42 bux a head) with the option of a 3-wine pairing menu at 21 zlotys.  (My choice.)

Nice room too. Ideal for Crackberrying

The food, which can vary wildly depending on the talents of the student chef, was outstanding.  I had a cool  avocado cucumber soup (they called it gazpacho) with shrimp, then this:

Grilled Tuna Loin
Chilled Jasmine Rice Pilaf, Sunchoke Purée and Tomato Caper Sauce

It was delicious, the tuna was flavorful and very rare. The puree and tomato caper sauce were perfect accompaniments to the tuna.  And the pilaf, while it looked like it was spiked with frozen mixed veg, was refreshing and tasty.

Dessert was a wonderful lemon thingie, which is absent from the menu I linked to.  Dommage.  (You like my technical language?)

The food was delicious, and the guy or gal in the kitchen deserves to find a splendid job somewhere. 

Ah but there is always a fly in the erntment.  Il vino.  While the bartender was terrific and made me a wonderful Gosling's rum and tonic, the wine pairings, based on the by-the-glass list, weren't so successful.  This was one of the many times, alas, when the wines weren't up to the food.

To be fair, the full wine list is huge and fairly impressive, with many well-priced bottles from round the world  But no one was in the mood for a bottle when they could mix and match.  Scroll down the link above to see the formidable carte de vins in full.

To reserve your place at a budding chef's final exam phone (212) 219-3300. 

L'Ecole is located at                          462 Broadway, NYC

                         Phone: (212) 219-3300

Lambrusco resurgent

I was invited to a fringe event of the Fancy Food Show* last night.  It was billed as a biodynamic wine event featuring a collection of small Italian producers.  It was being held at the Michelin-starred Del Posto.  It was a select event, 15 people max. 

I was intrigued.  Even though I cannot, by my skeptical nature, buy into the full-bore biodynamic "philosophy," aka crackpot mysticism, I do like the way the wines often turn out.  Quindi I was eager to attend.  I wanted to meet the starry-eyed visionaries who bid fair to transform Wine as We Know It.

Before I divulge how my expectations were met, or not, I am happy to report that I met Philadelphia wine-and-food blogger David McDuff, who sat by me at the dinner, a survival technique:  Italian was the language of choice.  We met at Del Posto early for a drink and a chat, then went out for a beer afterwards to chat for another hour.  What a smart, interesting guy, especially for one who lives in Philly.  (Humor.)

We discussed the vagaries of site traffic.  I suggested the sure-fire cure for lagging visits based on Google searches: peppering your site with pictures of young, pretty girls.  Like my fickle groupie, Lisa Qiu.  (That's not how I roll -- not that there's anything wrong with it.)  Anyway, you can imagine the keywords they use.

Where was I?  Oh yes, the do at Del Posto. 

Before I discuss the wine and the producer, let's get this food thing out of the way.  6 out of 10.  At a 12 out of 10 price, senza dubbio.  McDuff took his famous food photos and notes about both the grub and the wine (I scribbled only in service of the wine, which was more pleasing than the food  Stay tuned on his site.)

It turned out that the wines being featured were all from the same winery, Venturini Baldini,

* As to the show: lots of cheese and lots of very fat people in shorts eating their way through, aisle by aisle, stand by stand. Enough to put you off food, fancy or otherwise.

"People need to get drunk"

This was the quote of the day.  I heard it from Keith, one of the owners of In Vino, a wine bar in Alphabet City, and Alphabet City Wines.  Or Liquors. Or something.

We were talking about the current economic, social and political climate in these parts.  His places are aimed at a young crowd who have some disposable income but not all that much.  And the quote was his explanation of why business had been pretty good.  (NB:  Despite all the NYC happy talk, there are many many more vacant storefronts than there were 6 months ago.  I was surprised to see that the long-lived Zen Palate at 16th Street and Park Avenue South was out of business.  I never went there, of course, but it was a sign that Something Is Afoot.)

After checking in with Keith, I headed north to Barbone.  Yes, Marco, Barbone!  Alberto and I chatted about one thing or another, while Ken and Julie ate and drank with gusto.  Good simple food and 2 bottles of wine, neither bottle all that expensive by local standards.  A mere $210 with tip.  For 3.  Such is life in NYC right now.  The prices are reminiscent of euro prices.  The Fed is right to be concerned about inflation.  It's killing us.

For the record I had the delicious, refreshing watermelon and feta salad with lots of mint on it.  And the chicken sausage Cavatelli.  The wines were an anise-y Tocai Friulano (from Traverso, imported by PGM Wines), plus one Alberto selected, a cost-effective Negroamaro blend from the province of Brindisi way down south in Puglia.  Julie and Ken liked the Puglian red. Me, not so much.

By the way, Alberto was sporting quite the diamond earring in his...was it the left ear?  Yes, it was.  Bought by his wife.  He looked good with the ice and the unshaven look.  He has to get cooler because his crowd now is very much younger, hipper and more beautiful than before.  There seemed to be a lot of Sex and the City type girl parties.  Lots of bared skin and floaty summer dresses.  Julie and I are old enough to recall the oft-anthologized Irwin Shaw story, "Girls in Their Summer Dresses."  Many beautiful peeps; we didn't fit in but we liked the view.

 

Alberto in his square, non-earringed period.  Too hip for us now?

We had a nice evening.  I'm glad to be alive.  Even if I am hopelessly out of it and unable to afford NYC real estate or pasta.

Next stops: Maremma and Genoa

I'll be landing at Pisa tomorrow for a fast trip to the Maremma, Genoa and the Veneto.  Already I'm panting.  The Sprint through Italy.

"Maremma" comes from "maritime". You see why

First stop will be to see a very engaging winemaker from the province of Grosseto, whose wines, blogs and wife I admire tremendously.  You'll have to click here to see who I mean.  (Sssh! It's sort of a surprise visit.)

Then we will together motor up to Genoa for Filippo Ronco's very well organized Terroir Vino manifestazione, 4th edition, a one-day affair that presents hand-picked smaller wineries from various regions of Italy and neighboring sections of France.  (Fil heads up a blind-tasting panel.  Note significant hyphen.  Mr. Magoo is not on it.)  I went to the 3rd edition last year and immediately committed to return. Remember: Palazzo Ducale, Genoa, (Monday) June 16.

As Fil wrote on his site:

        After the success of the first three Meetings, which took place in some         of the most beautiful locations of the Riviera, with this Fourth edition         we are taking a gamble. The meeting is moving to the Palazzo Ducale, the         Ducal Palace, one of the most prestigious historical buildings in Genova,         which will probably become the permanent site of our event. Our motto,         "where wine, people and the web meet", underscores the need to stimulate         communication and feedback between winemakers, professionals, consumers         and independent media ; this year we added the title, terroir vino, in         an effort to bring about a common ground for dialogue and exchanges between         viticultural areas. 

Let us remember that the French-Italian border is more or less notional now, and it's always been a fluid thing.  The wines and food on each side of the vanishing frontier are pretty much the same, as are the local dialects, architecture and agriculture.  It's an interesting area to visit once you get away from the hideous sprawl all along the coast and head for the hills.  It's also an up-and-coming wine zone, at least in Italy.  Maybe Mike Tommasi can give us the real dope on the French portion.

In the hills above Chiavari

Celebrity sightings: Cornelia Street Cafe

The heat and humidity are really here.  Summer in New York.  Whole sections of town empty out as people with second homes flee to them on Friday and leave the city to a more casual crowd.  (Translation: those with a lot less disposable income.)  Let 'em go.  I like the relative quiet and smaller crowds.

It was so hot this morning that I was tempted to cancel brunch with a couple of friends I hadn't seen in some time and just stay home in the air conditioning.  But, no, I caught the E train to the West Village and met the guys at the Cornelia Street Cafe.  This is a small, casual spot where the food is pretty good and the bar is great.  They have live jazz at night, down in the basement, too. The cafe's Eurocentric by-the-glass wine list is both interesting and reasonably priced...a big pour too. There are a few tables on the sidewalk; although they were in the shade when I got there around noon, trust me when I tell you I didn't feature sitting out there for an hour or two.

The Cornelia Street Cafe is one of those unpretentious little spots where you see celebrities all the time.  Actually, it's hard not to see them in the West Village.   Seeing Philip Seymour Hoffman there was especially memorable -- it was right before his riveting performance of Truman was released.  There was a buzz around him and the film.  He looked magnificently happy.

Today, as we lingered over eggs and iced tea, I saw someone who looked sort of familiar come in.  The man was huge -- both very tall and rather bulky.  A short woman and a teenager came in with him.  As they went to the table next to us, the woman looked at me. Susan Sarandon!  She looked right at me!  So the big, overweight guy was Tim Robbins!  He looked like Big Daddy in "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof."  They had really dressed down -- would have looked right at home stopping at a barbecue joint in Petersburg, Virginia.  Still, they were stars and we weren't.  And the mirror isn't my friend either.

Taken in previous century, I think

They had a hard time even getting the waitress's attention.  On this point anyway we could gloat.  Our bellies were full.

After hours: aged bloggers carouse

Quickly, about last night.

I got home about 6pm, unpacked, ate the ritual return dinner of a turkey club and potato salad, and after enduring a couple of TV shows that Ken had recorded ("CSI Miami" and, God help us, that thing with Sally Field), I fortified myself with iPod and Charlie Christian's elegant guitar work and sped downtown on the beauteous 6 train to Il Buco.

Sorry, that sentence was almost Italianate. 

Sorry, too, that this that is another of those dumb Twitter-like blog posts.  Oh, who cares.  It's not like someone's paying me to do this.  (HINT.)

Anyway, jetlagged as I was and am, I had to see Alfonso Cevola, Marco Romano and the ubiquitous Jeremy Parzen, grand blogging buds.  It was important to see the boys because we all weren't going to be in town long. 

After Jeremy and his posse left, the three old men of the group -- yours truly being the oldest, damn it -- headed out looking for some wine bar action.  We walked over to Avenue B.  Unaccountably, though it was only 12:30, most places had already closed.  We grabbed a taxi and went to the West Village.  Destination: Alice Feiring's favorite wine bar, I think, the Blue Ribbon Downing Street Bar.  Very small, very crowded.  We stayed till more or less last call at 2am, speaking of wine and time and the meaning of life.  Interesting and worthy wine list. Very nice Chenin Blanc there.  Most full-sized pours are about $12.  The tap water is on the house.

I felt young and like I could stay up all night.  Sometimes legal prescription drugs can really better your existence.  And they did give me a chance to catch up with AC, MR and JP.  Great re-entry to the Grande Mela.