Dec. 13th, 2003 08:04 pm
In the mood
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muckefuckLate start today. Changing plans, general sluggishness, a call from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu's sister--it adds up. We went down to my old 'hood to for some shopping, but my DVD hunting was a bust, as was monshu's shoe shopping. I grabbed a couple of things from Chef's Catalog (spatula and ramekins) and monshu picked up a couple more from Binny's. (Note to Muga fans! They still have some bottles of the Gran Reserva 1995 at $30 a pop, which is not unreasonable.) The checkout clerk had an outrrrageous Frrrench accent, despite being named "Juan". He commented on our very Gallic emsemble of purchases--Beaujolais nouveau, cassis de Bordeaux, and pastis de Marseille--noting that pastis was very popular in Paris. "Pernod?", I asked. He replied, "No, Ricard! Nobody drinks Pernod! All the bars have a bottle, but if you look, you see that it's the one with dust on it." Francophile snobs, take note!
We cabbed it up to my place, wheremonshu had his scotch and I had a sip of (ahem) Ricard. Then we went to Tweet, where there was...no maitre d'. He showed up after a moment with a bottle of wine in hand; all questions about whether or not to expect flakiness of service were answered immediately. (Two diners present, most tables reserved and fully set, and none of the three waiters can run around the corner to buy a bottle of wine?) He then said that we were in luck, he had one table for two left and grabbed the menus. Then he asked, "Just two of you?" (When we left, the restaurant was still only a third full. Poetic license?)
Fortunately, our waiter was a bit more on the ball.monshu ordered the filet mignon, which was more decent-sized than he'd expected, in an acceptable vin marchand sauce. (I asked, "If yours is a ten, what is this?" "A five.") He was very taken with the side of rapini. My venison osso buco wasn't quite as flavourful as I might've hoped, but it was way tastier than the pork chops I had last time (and which they are now pretentiously calling "porchetta") and the waiter was speedy in bringing me a demitasse spoon (and knew immediately what I wanted it for). I thought the dab of potatoes it was served on might not be enough, so I ordered a side of sweet potatoes, which were hot as magma beneath the gratinée. They eventually cooled down to the point where I could eat them, but they were so rish, I fell short of finishing them off. The fantastic, meaty sauce on the venison just did me in.
All in all, better than the first dinner visit. As an anise freak, I was especially appreciative of the anise-and-white-raisin bread in the basket. A party of about twenty Spaniards with champagne in buckets gradually filled the tables next to us, which provided amusement, and it was only when we were leaving that the din started becoming noisome. By then, a powdery snow was whipping by and we made slow progress up Sheridan on it. Now we're safely back atmonshu's. He's snoring; I'm savoring "In Dulci Jubilo" and a little bit of dulce de leche ice cream and psyching myself up for the trip home. Tomorrow, a visit to Nuphy and carolling with friends.
monshu's sister--it adds up. We went down to my old 'hood to for some shopping, but my DVD hunting was a bust, as was monshu's shoe shopping. I grabbed a couple of things from Chef's Catalog (spatula and ramekins) and monshu picked up a couple more from Binny's. (Note to Muga fans! They still have some bottles of the Gran Reserva 1995 at $30 a pop, which is not unreasonable.) The checkout clerk had an outrrrageous Frrrench accent, despite being named "Juan". He commented on our very Gallic emsemble of purchases--Beaujolais nouveau, cassis de Bordeaux, and pastis de Marseille--noting that pastis was very popular in Paris. "Pernod?", I asked. He replied, "No, Ricard! Nobody drinks Pernod! All the bars have a bottle, but if you look, you see that it's the one with dust on it." Francophile snobs, take note!We cabbed it up to my place, where
monshu had his scotch and I had a sip of (ahem) Ricard. Then we went to Tweet, where there was...no maitre d'. He showed up after a moment with a bottle of wine in hand; all questions about whether or not to expect flakiness of service were answered immediately. (Two diners present, most tables reserved and fully set, and none of the three waiters can run around the corner to buy a bottle of wine?) He then said that we were in luck, he had one table for two left and grabbed the menus. Then he asked, "Just two of you?" (When we left, the restaurant was still only a third full. Poetic license?)Fortunately, our waiter was a bit more on the ball.
monshu ordered the filet mignon, which was more decent-sized than he'd expected, in an acceptable vin marchand sauce. (I asked, "If yours is a ten, what is this?" "A five.") He was very taken with the side of rapini. My venison osso buco wasn't quite as flavourful as I might've hoped, but it was way tastier than the pork chops I had last time (and which they are now pretentiously calling "porchetta") and the waiter was speedy in bringing me a demitasse spoon (and knew immediately what I wanted it for). I thought the dab of potatoes it was served on might not be enough, so I ordered a side of sweet potatoes, which were hot as magma beneath the gratinée. They eventually cooled down to the point where I could eat them, but they were so rish, I fell short of finishing them off. The fantastic, meaty sauce on the venison just did me in.All in all, better than the first dinner visit. As an anise freak, I was especially appreciative of the anise-and-white-raisin bread in the basket. A party of about twenty Spaniards with champagne in buckets gradually filled the tables next to us, which provided amusement, and it was only when we were leaving that the din started becoming noisome. By then, a powdery snow was whipping by and we made slow progress up Sheridan on it. Now we're safely back at
monshu's. He's snoring; I'm savoring "In Dulci Jubilo" and a little bit of dulce de leche ice cream and psyching myself up for the trip home. Tomorrow, a visit to Nuphy and carolling with friends.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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