We went to one of the three Michelin star restaurants in Brooklyn: Dressler.  We went to one of the others a while back: Saul.  However, Dressler was the best meal I have ever had in New York City.  Hands down, no question about it.  Dressler is located in the Williamsburg area of Brooklyn right near the Williamsburg bridge and across the street from world famous Peter Luger’s (the third Michelin winner).  I have yet to indulge in the steak there, but I hope to one day.  As a side note their was an apartment building between the two restaurants, we’re thinking of moving there.  However, we would be completely broke within a year.

Anyway, we decided to get the 5 course chef tasting menu with accompanying wine pairing, after all, it is Christmas.  Everything was great.  The food, the decor, the vibe.  It was all very hip, romantic, and enjoyable.  It was funny listening to the two couples talk next to us. Like you wouldn’t listen either.  They were talking about buying million dollar places in the city and how they were glad the prices had gone down, etc.  We felt a little out of our league.  I guess that just comes with the territory. Mind you that cool million was for a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment.  Crazy huh?

Becky and I ordered one of everything.  I’ve attached the menu below.  However, instead of the lamb they offered Pork Belly.  And instead of the Cod, they had Scottish Salmon.

I will say that the Oxtail Ragout was the best dish of the night.  I could eat that every meal for the rest of my life and not get tired of it.  I really just wanted 5 plates of that.  However, the Bass was also excellent and the dessert perfectly balanced.  The biggest disappointment of the night (and by disappointment I mean like having to kiss Nicole Kidman instead of Megan Fox) was the Pork Belly and Steak.  I guess I am just spoiled on Filet Mignon.  Either way, we had a great time, I definitely recommend this place, although it is a little difficult to get to, and we will be going back soon.  Merry Christmas!

Her cat, Eve, a beautiful Himalayan cat has always been frosty with pretty much everyone but my granny.  No worries, I get it.  This was a cat’s cat.  Always independent and down right angry at times. But we overlooked it because it gave such good company for my grandma.  Well, on Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the cat got spooked, or so it was told, and went completely insane. Hissing at my grandma and acting a fool.  So, naturally, granny grabs a stick to defend herself.  I’m sure that had nothing to do with the cat’s bad mood.

Anyway, on Thursday, Becky and I went up there to have some coffee and the cat was fine.  Playful and in great spirits.  Not 10 minutes after we left, the cat had gone mad again and my granny had had enough.  She called my dad to come up there and shoot the cat.  Bet you didn’t see that one coming.  Now I’ll admit, our family has never really had trouble killing animals, but quasi-family members are another story.  Plus, we didn’t think anything was wrong with the cat.  It was just being normal.  I tried to explain to my granny that the longer she carried the stick the more pissed off the cat would probably get.  Not to mention the fact that we tried to get her to make a vet appointment the next day.  We live next to one for crying out loud.  No luck.

After both Reed men declined, she called our neighbor, who shot his cat a few weeks back.  The result of a bad run in with a coyote.  So that was understandable.  I guess she figured he had the most experience.  I also supposed the only animal he planned on shooting today was a Wild Turkey.  Anyway, he agreed, but said it would be awhile because they had just sat down to dinner.  However, that decision ruined ours.  That’s all granny would say, “I wish he would just get here.”  At this rate, I did too.  What a way to spend Thanksgiving.  I even offered to take care of it on Friday, but that wasn’t happening.  Her mind was made up and nothing was going to change it.

So my neighbor finally got there.  He did the deed and then helped my granny bury it.  That’s what neighbors are for right?  Anyway, we all left in protest because we didn’t want to hear the gun go off. But just when you thought the story couldn’t get any weirder, it does.  I’ll run through this quick and get to the moral of the story. The cat was buried in my cousin’s baby blanket.  The cat actually belongs to my aunt (she was not consulted). My granny is excited because she can wear black now (no cat hair to bother with). The cat obviously had a brain tumor that caused it to go crazy.  It also had a brain bleed because it scratched it’s head a lot.  The cat had seen the vet about a week before.  All the cat supplies were sent to my parents for their cat.  They haven’t used any of it.  I’m sure all sorts of laws were broken in the process. That’s why no names were given.

I know there is one in every family.  But I’m sure I’m the only one with this story on Thanksgiving.  In a time of family and generosity, good will and holiday cheer were not heaped upon our dear cat friend. Now, I’ll admit there were times when I really just wanted it to die, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t pull the trigger.  I guess my granny is just from a different time and place.  There were no animal rights groups on the farm she grew up in.  Animals were a necessity, not a pleasure.  And while she is an animal lover, her attitude toward things over the years has changed.  I’m not sure when it happens, but she has officially joined the blue hair club. The club that complains about money all the time, steals crackers and sugar packets from restaurants, and just doesn’t want to be hassled by anything. And I think that is what happened here.  Vet bills have always been a problem with this cat.  My grandma has spent thousands of dollars to keep that cat working right, but in the end, the thought of being attacked by her housemate and paying another vet bill was just too much to ignore.  So, sad to say, we lost a good girl on Thanksgiving.  And while I don’t agree with what happened, I could do nothing to stop it.  Because another sign of old age is stubbornness.  And believe me, our family has the lion’s share.  My hillbilly roots have been exposed once again.  Which reminds me, you should never bite the hand that feeds you. You may not last the night.

1.  I went to see the Michael Jackson movie the other day.  I was looking forward to $6.50 Tuesday movies, but when I got to the box office the sign said “No discounts.”  So I paid $9.50.  That really stunk.  What a rip off.  Thanks Sony.  Anyway, I was the only person in the theater, and while the cinematography lacked, that would have been one heck of a concert.  Too bad.

2.  As I was walking to the movie it was pouring rain.  Seems like that’s all it’s been doing around here.  Anyway, just as I am turning the corner to the theater I failed to notice the huge puddle of water from a clogged drain.  Yep, I was the guy squeaking up the theater with wet feet for 2 hours.  It also made for a pleasant trip home.

3.  I saw an add where Pam Anderson is a spokesperson for PETA.  Funny, I guess she is an advocate for the gross overuse of animal products but not bothered by the gross overuse of silicon.

4.  (From Becky) I was standing in line at Costco for some samples.  I’m about to get to the table when this Asian lady cuts in front of me and takes the sample I was going to get.  I couldn’t believe it.  What is it with people and Costco?  It’s like they lose all sense of space and manners.  So when I found Steph, she was in line for samples and the same Asian lady did the same thing to her.  That lady was out of control.

5. I’ve noticed that the customer service industry here stinks.  And while in most places the customer is always right.  Here, they are not.  And the incompetent folks behind the desk will tell you just that.

6.  What is it with people talking to themselves on the streets.  Are there really that many crazy people here?  I swear half the people I pass are carrying on lengthy conversations…with no one!

7.  Speaking of crazy people.  I walk past this older asian lady all the time and she is surrounded by pigeons (which I am told are rock doves.  Who knew?).  Anyway, she feeds them, and talks to them (better than no one I guess).  One day I was walking by and looking at the spectacle and she went ballistic on me.  Screaming about pigeons’ rights or some crap like that.  I couldn’t believe how upset she got.  I am sure it had nothing to do with me trying to record her on my cell phone.

8.  I needed to fax something the other day.  So, I went to a place around the corner.  I hand the guy the stuff to be faxed.  Four sheets. $1.00.  ”Fine,” I say and lay the bill on the counter.  However, when I give him the number, he says, “Where is this?”  ”North Carolina,” I say.  ”Oh, that’s going to be a dollar a page then.”  ”Are you kidding?” I respond.  ”It’s long distance, it costs more,” he tells me.  ”No it doesn’t,” I say.  ”Are you seriously jacking up the price on this fax because I need to send something to North Carolina?  This isn’t a telegraph.”  Angry, he says, “if you don’t want to pay it, you can leave.” “Fine” and I walked out.  Leaving the dollar on the table.  He needed it more than me.

9.  I find it funny that as I observe people no one bothers to rise above their stereotypes.  I guess, like cliches, they are stereotypes for a reason.  And that reason is…TRUTH.

10.  I like brussel sprouts.  I’ve never had them cooked well before, but put them in an oven with olive oil, salt and pepper and I will eat them all day.  Who knew?  Steph is also a convert.

Usually I do 10, but today, an Encore.

11.  I am officially eating crow.  I said there was no place in NYC that could match the south when it came to BBQ.  I was wrong.  We went to a place called the Smoke Joint where they smoke all their meat.  It was the best BBQ I’ve had in a long time.  Better than any in Charlotte.  And although the cooks were from Alabama, they are doing pork proud above the Mason-Dixon line.  They even had sweet tea.  And while I am not ready to crown them above Lexington, they sure are an outstanding substitute.   Best baked beans ever by the way.

12.  As we were walking past a trash pile, Becky and I noticed that it was full of rats.  They were everywhere.  And while Becky went screaming off into the night, I was calm enough to hear the homeless guy across the street laughing.  ”Look at her run,” he chuckled.  And I must say, I couldn’t agree more.  It was pretty funny.

I admit, I went with the closest dentist that used my health care provider.  What I failed to remember was that we live in the newly updated ghetto.  Well, we have a nice street and the rest, well, leaves a little to be desired.  But I figured this was a big city and the dentist would be a nice place too.  In this neighborhood the curtains match the carpet if you know what I mean.  This place was a dump.  Water stains on the tile ceiling.  Outdated dental equipment.  And a male secretary.  What is it with this city and the men?  They are doing nothing to help their reputations.

After a brief glance at the New Yorker on the table (strangely circumcision was the main topic in this one, and the upcoming mayoral race.  Oddly, I think they go hand in hand.) I was summoned for the typical x-rays.  I then got in the chair and was settling into place when the dentist strolled in.  Strange, usually they come in at the end.  But she was an attractive older Russian lady and she was actually nice.  She did look like an older version of our dance instructor, and that gave me a momentary cringe of dancing despair.  Ask Becky about that one.  I digress.  She gave a quick look in my mouth, deduced there were no cavities, and then proceeded to clean my teeth.  Interesting, usually a hygienist does that, but hey when in Moscow.  However, she draped the suction in the corner of my mouth which was  a little weird, and uncomfortable.  Now, I’m used to the regular old metal pick that cleans off plaque.  Apparently in Russia they use a fire hose with a metal hook on the end.  I guess she was using water pressure to break up the gunk.  However, the seal wasn’t too tight.  I got a cleaning all right, just on my face, and not so much my mouth.  I felt like I was on the Sidewinder ride at Dollywood.  Laid back like that and with the water spraying all over my face, I couldn’t help but laugh.  It was funny.  I guess she brought the device over from the motherland in 1992.  Anyway, she was fast and approached my teeth much like the Bolsheviks storming Leningrad. (not sure if that is historically accurate, but it sounds right.)  She was vigorous in her pursuit to wipeout plaque and the car wash was done in about 5 minutes.  I’m serious this lady wasn’t screwing around.

So, she finishes up and leaves in a rush.  Maybe she had an urgent matter to attend to, but I bet she just had to pee.  Anyway, the hygienist came in to polish my pearly whites.  Now usually they ask you what flavor of polish you want, and they actually talk to you.  Not here.  I got stale spearmint with a little dose of shut the heck up. She never said a word.  They didn’t have a TV to watch.  They didn’t even have a cute kitten poster stapled to the ceiling.  Talk about communist.  Anyway, my North Korean tooth scrubber finished up, said, “we’ll call you in 6 months,” and walked out the door.  I sat there for a minute expecting her to return with my toothbrush and travel size toothpaste.  Forgetaboutit.  I got nothing but a nice shove out the door.  Of course the male secretary was nice, but aren’t they all?

I guess I can appreciate the iron curtain efficiency of it all.  But I guess in a place where time is seemingly always running out I should have expected it.  I am not a human.  I’m just another insurance form waiting to be filled out by an overly hairy male secretary.  I don’t get it.  Why is no one nice around here?  Especially in the public service area.  I guess I just missed the lady asking how I was doing.  Or talking about Jerry Springer or Oprah.  Not that I cared, but it was just nice to have someone connect with you while you have two sets of hands in your mouth.  But I guess that’s the norm here. And while my teeth feel clean, my soul fills dirty.  And that my friends is a terrible feeling.  Especially after something I used to enjoy.

1.  Something interesting always happens when I go to the grocery store.  This trip: several.  I saw a woman with a mustache. Seriously.  Or at least I thought it was a woman.  Hmm…

2.  Also at the grocery store.  So I get in line to purchase my breakfast items, you know bananas, waffles, peanut butter, and I can’t help but notice how long it is taking the cashier to ring things up.  However, once I get there I understand.  She is texting while she is scanning items.  Or should I say texting and then punching in the items.  Yet no one seems to mind.  Then the guy in front of me has a ton of stuff and they can’t get the bag boy to help because he is on the phone.  Seriously.  They are all yelling at him and he yells back, “I’m on the phone!”  Is everyone taking crazy pills? Not to mention the fact that when it is my turn the cashier’s phone is ringing.  One of those annoying rap song ring tones.  It just kept going and going and going.  Finally, I said, “you going to get that?”  She says, “No.  It’ll quit in a minute.”  You’ve got to be kidding.

3.  Why is skim milk more expensive than whole milk?  You would think that because it is basically water, that it would be cheaper.  Maybe because they have to pasteurize it more, or is it because skim milk is healthier for you than whole?  Healthy food does cost a lot more than unhealthy food.

4.  I now understand why folks in NYC honk their horns more than folks in the south.  Why?  Well, there are more idiots up here.  Apparently it is socially acceptable to walk across a four lane road with oncoming traffic because you are too impatient to wait for the “walk” sign, or too good to use a crosswalk.  Unbelievable.

5.  Why in the H-E-double hockey stick is Christmas stuff already out?  Seriously, why?

6.  There has been a car parked outside our building the last few days with a license plate that says “IMTHAMAN.”  Call me crazy, the beamer is nice, but I’d venture to say that anyone with that tag is far from the man.

7.  Note to self.  When going to a matinee movie, make sure you know what time the early prices end.  Apparently, movies up here are no longer considered matinee’s after 3 pm.  That misstep cost me an extra 3 dollars.  It’s been 5 pm my whole life.  When did it change?

8.  I went to see the movie Zombieland (for the full price).  I know what you are saying, “that looks like the stupidest movie ever.”  And while you may have a point, it was one of the funniest movies that I’ve seen this year.  Highly entertaining.  And yes, I have gotten to where I actually enjoy going to the movies by myself.

9.  So I went to hang out in a new coffee shop the next street over.  I was doing some work and the entire time I was in there, not one single American person came in to get anything.  Everyone had foreign dialects.  At first I thought I was the only native, but then I thought, “well, I guess I have a foreign dialect too.”  So I just fit right in.

10.  Finally, as I was walking down the street yesterday, I saw a girl check out a passing male.  I’m serious.  I had never seen that before.  You know in the movies when a vivacious babe walks buy some nerd and then he turns around, checks out her posterior and oogles?  Yeah.  That just happened.  Only the roles were reversed.  I felt awkward.  She was looking at that dude like a lion looks at a wildebeest.  She even licked her lips.  Frightening.

So anyway, I’ve been working a lot on the weekends.  But, I have this one off and I am excited to spend it with my little lady.  I think we might catch a movie and grab dinner tonight.  And then tomorrow we are going on a mission to find couples to make friends with.  I’m sure I’ll watch some college football and we’ll just have a nice, relaxing weekend.  However, I may have to go to Costco, and that usually gives me some awesome story material.  Until then…

So, since I’ve had some time at home, I did a lot of research in order to pick the perfect place for my little lady.  But in a town with thousands of restaurants, it didn’t need to be perfect.  It just needed to be memorable.  However, memorable isn’t always a good thing.  I had this wild hair to go to a place with a tasting menu.  You know, the ones where you get several courses with a wine pairing.  Romantic yes.  Inexpensive, no.  So, when I found a three course tasting menu in our price range I immediately booked us for a Friday night reservation.  Now, the place.  Well, I am sure you will know the name, and trust me, we will never forget.  Tavern on the Green.

Now, I’ve heard about this place my entire life.  It stands on a brilliantly lit pedestal on a hill in Central Park. Romantic? Check. Recognizable? Check.  Tasting menu? Check.  Memorable Dining Experience? Well…

As soon as we walked in, I knew something was wrong.  I mean seriously, my first thought was “Good Lord, Pollyanna puked all over the walls.”  Honestly, it looked like a doll house gone bad.  Mirrors everywhere.  Way too many chandeliers.  Pastels.  And a flood of fake flowers.  I couldn’t believe it.  I was in what is called the Crystal room.  The crème de la crème of fine dining, or so I had heard.  I mean why didn’t someone stop me?  After the fact everyone said, “Oh yeah, that place isn’t great.” WHY DIDN’T SOMEONE TELL ME (I’m having a Larry David moment)?  So what was wrong?  Well, where do I start?

Becky laughed.  Yeah, we sat there for about three minutes, and she laughed.  Never a good sign. Like I said, it was memorable.  Also, I had called the day before to ask if they would indeed be serving the tasting menu on Friday.  I was assured they would.  They weren’t.  For the first time in my life I seriously asked Becky if she wanted to get up and leave before the meal started.  But we thought we’d overlook the décor, and give dinner a chance.  Then we saw the waiters.  I swear, everyone could have been my grandpaw.  Not only did they all wear back braces, but they wore hideous, faded sea foam green jackets.  Again a laugh.  This time, both of us.

Oh, and I was wondering where all the older folks lived here in the city because I hadn’t seen that many.  On Friday, I found them.  They were all there.  Enough blue hair and dentures to open my own nursing home.  Seriously, we were the youngest people in there by at least 15 years.  Let’s see where was I?  Oh yeah, it even smelled old.  Just like a nursing home.  You know the smell I’m talking about.  Musty, moldy, mired with years of wear and tear.  And that’s what I don’t understand.  Why has no one fixed this place up?  It is stuck in the eighty’s.  And that is not a good thing.  I even saw a person walk in with a fanny pack.  God help us all.

Great.  Now one of the waiters is singing Happy Birthday to someone at another table in his bestopera voice.  I thought I heard a dog howling.  But then I figured it was Pavarotti rolling over in his grave.  But then I realized it was just his horrible singing voice.  But the old broad was eating it up.  Good for her.  I bet that guy’s been breaking hearts since before I was born.  And all this before our waiter even came by.  He was okay, I guess.  But I’ve had better service at a Shoney’s.  And for those of you who do not know what a Shoney’s is, trust me, it’s not a compliment.  They even had a photographer.  How lame.  Is this Adventureland?  25 bucks for a pic.  You’ve got to be kidding me.  I want to leave.  Bad.

I’m not even going to talk about the food.  It was that bad.  The culinary world has passed them by.  And passed them a while ago.  Becky and I make better food here every night.  No doubt.  All I can say is unimaginative and bland.  We decided we would go somewhere else for dessert and finished as quickly as we could.  However, when we declined dessert, the waiter was not happy and since we were close to the waiter stand we could hear them talking crap about us.  I’d had it.  We were out of there.  Whatever dude.  I pulled a Vancil and gave him a horrible tip.  How do you like me know?

Let me be honest, it wasn’t so much the food, or the hair, or the sherbert smoking jackets.  It was the fact that Tavern on the Green was the most pretentious restaurant I’ve ever been in.  And I’ve been in some bad ones.  The world has passed them by and they are perfectly content in resting on their laurels and riding the coattails of their Scarface era success.  I was mad.  Mad I picked that place.  Mad because they didn’t have what I came for.  Mad for bad service.  Mad I dressed up.  Mad I shaved.  Mad I woke up that morning.  I was just mad.  It was the worst culinary experience I’ve ever had and it will be my personal mission to play Paul Revere and let the world know this place stinks.  So there you have it.  Becky’s memorable birthday.  I can’t write anymore or my blood pressure will rise too high.  So with that I bid you ado. Bankruptcy is coming, bankruptcy is coming…

We had heard horror stories from Steph about the show the night before.  Apparently, Jersey Transit wasn’t prepared to handle all the folks getting to the show and between two hour lines to get tickets, too few trains, and lots of stranded people, we decided to get there early.  Plus, we’d get a better place in line.  However, I guess they got all the bugs out because the trains, etc were crowded, but we had no problems getting there, and actually got a really good spot to stand for the next three hours waiting for those Irish boys to hit the stage.

Once, the concert started, it was the most unbelievable thing I have ever seen, not to mention the best show. In a world of rock stars, Bono, The Edge, et al are cock of the walk.  I mean these guys, were ROCK STARS!  No question about it.  And besides two encores, and playing for over 2 hours, their words have meaning and spread a message of hope to the world.  None of this emo, whoa is me, crap.  They really do want to change the world.  And like the music or not, you have to respect what they are trying to do.  They have officially won over two casual fans, and not even the swamps and stench of New Jersey could put a damper on that!  Here are some pics…

I wanted to just post some pics that I took for the next couple of days because we did so much touristy, sight-seeing with Quinn and Melinda.  Last Thursday, we went to see ground zero and then made a pass through Wall Street on our way to the Statue of Liberty.  We also made stops at Trinity Church as well as the other famous pizza place (and my personal favorite) Lombardi’s.  We also went to the U2 show at Giants Stadium, but more on that tomorrow.

So without further ado, a look at NYC in all it splendor…

1.  I saw a guy wearing a homemade Obama belt the other day.  A lot like the ones that people used to put their names on, but this one was blinged out.  Look, I don’t care about this one way or another, but it seems that every person here in Brooklyn thinks Obama is the second coming.  And while I believe we should give our president support, this “support” might take it a little too far.

2.  I found a BBQ place in Brooklyn.  Actually Dallas BBQ, one of the big BBQ chains here in NYC.  And while this isn’t exactly pig nirvana, I can eat some brisket to get my fix.  I wonder if they have sweet tea?

3.  Across the street from Dallas BBQ is the Brooklyn Tabernacle Bookstore.  What a surprise!  I’ve been looking for some inspirational reading and couldn’t find a Christian Bookstore anywhere.  And low and behold I found a BBQ place and a Bookstore at the same time.  The Lord works in mysterious ways.  However, the people that worked there were really rude and didn’t exactly have good customer service skills.  But I guess that is what happens when they are just volunteers from the church.

4.  Going to the Bank here is a disaster.  It’s like the post office.  There is a huge line every time you go in.  I’ve never seen so many people paying bills at the bank.  I didn’t even know you could do that.  50% of the people there have a huge stack of bills and apparently they pay them there.  I know that some people are less fortunate and can’t afford a computer to pay online, but seriously, a stamp will work.  Plus it would alleviate congestion. And the tellers have glass windows like the movie theater and I can never understand what they are saying.   Needless to say, it’s an adventure every time I walk into a BofA.

5. I got our first electric bill the other day.  I almost choked on my turkey sandwich. I’ll admit, we ran the AC a lot and I expected it to be high, but not that high.  I won’t say how much, but it was about 3 times as much as in Charlotte.  FYI, they not only charge you for the power, they also charge you for getting it to you.  I thought our taxes paid for infrastructure?  Only in NY.

6.  I saw two older people going at it on the Subway the other night.  The older lady didn’t even have her dentures in.  Whatever turns you on I guess.

7.  The weather lately has been amazing (and I haven’t been using the AC as much, which is a good thing).  Regis and Kelly said this was the best time of year to see NYC.  And I cannot argue with that.  The breeze off the water is a welcome relief and the cool weather in the mornings a nice reprieve from the heat wave that framed our first month here.

8.  Did I actually just admit to watching Regis and Kelly?  Shhh…don’t tell anyone.

9.  So I am walking down the street yesterday and I see a guy loading something out of a van on the street. As I get closer I see a guy loading dead animals out of an old van, like a ’92 Windstar.  I assume they were sheep because he was outside a Jewish Butcher shop.  But I couldn’t believe it, this guy was throwing the meat into a shopping cart on the side of the street.  They didn’t have heads and there was no hair or anything on them.  I suppose they just brought them from the slaughter house.  But I thought places like this had a back entrance so they didn’t scare the crap out of their customers? I almost asked if I could take a picture, but then thought better of it. Some things are just better left alone.

10.  And while I should probably leave this one alone, it was too ironic for me to leave out.  I walked past a school as well yesterday and there were tons of kids on the playground waiting for their parents to pick them up.  Parked on the street near the school was an ice cream truck, a great idea I thought.  The name of the truck?  Mr. Softey.  And the guy running the deal looked pretty creepy.  My kids will not buy ice cream from anything call that.  I swear, I can’t make this stuff up!  Real life is too good.

Anyway, off to workout and get ready to drive to New Hampshire.  What do you think are the odds that I run into some traffic getting out of the city on a Friday?  Better leave early I guess.  However, I am happy to be working.  I’d walk if I had to.  Until next week, I bid you farewell.

It was outstanding.  They were having the Feast of San Geranno. And if you are wondering…

“Presented annually since 1996 by Figli di San Gennaro, Inc. (Children of San Gennaro), a not-for-      profit community organization dedicated to keeping alive the spirit and faith of the early Italian  immigrants, this year’s Feast will once again attract more than one-million people from the four  corners of the globe to the streets of Little Italy to participate in the annual Salute to the Patron Saint  of Naples.”

I had no idea it was going on, we just got lucky I guess.  Every restaurant had tables on the street.  There were vendors everywhere serving up Italian classics.  Cannoli’s, Pizza, Pasta, Calamari, Gelato, and the list goes on and on.  They had lights strung up everywhere.  Food and Wine flowed as well as laugher and romance.  What a place to be on a Wednesday night.

The evening got off to a rocky start.  We were supposed to have reservations at 8:30, but with traffic and getting to the hotel, Jamey and Gary were running late.  I should have been sympathetic and understanding, but in my excitement to see them, I got upset.  When they called and said they had just left the hotel at 8:20, my desire to be punctual overcame my ability to feel, my heart immediately shrunk two sizes, and my mouth grew to epic proportions.  ”I said 8:30 and I mean 8:30,” I barked.  ”What’s wrong with you two?”  Jamey hung the phone up on me, and rightfully so.  You see, I have a problem when I make plans.  When someone tells me to be somewhere at such and such a time, I am there.  It doesn’t matter if I have to run over small children or cut off a limb, I will be there and I will be there on time! Just ask Becky.  I don’t do well when I am running late.  But what I fail to recognize is that things come up that are out of people’s control.  And while I expect others to have the same passion for punctuality that I do, sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way.  And it was a pretty crappy thing for me to do since I hadn’t seen them in a while.

It wasn’t bad.  Becky and I waited at the bar, sipped a nice Chianti (no fava beans or liver though), and just enjoyed the cool whether and stellar atmosphere.  And after some well deserved put downs from the fellas, we sat down and caught up on the happenings.  The meal was awesome.  Angelo’s of Mulberry street is nationally acclaimed for it’s food.  And it did not disappoint. We started out with some calamari.  Now I’ll be honest, I don’t know what was better, the calamari or the marinara sauce.  That was good sauce. But the calamari was hot and flash fried with little breading so you could taste the freshness of the squid.  Yum!  For main courses, Becky got a shrimp and mussels dish that was outstanding.  And garlicky, just the way she likes it.  I swear she could bathe in garlic!  On our honeymoon, she drank the garlic dipping sauce.  What a way to strike up the mood huh?  But I digress.  Gary and Jamey had Chicken Parmesan.  Boring!  Just kidding, but I had a bite and it was out of this world.  I had my favorite at this place.  Lobster Ravioli’s with a vodka shrimp sauce.  Now I do not want to know the caloric intake of any of these dishes, but my dish was so rich and wonderful, I sopped the sauce with the bread.  I know many good italians are rolling over in their graves right now, but this southern boy needed to appease his insatiable appetite for shrimpy pink perfection.

However, despite all the hilarious conversation between men (Becky was privy to guy talk a lot lastnight – but she held her own and that is one of the many reasons I love her.) the funniest thing that happened occurred after the meal was cleared away.  We were all arguing over who would pay the bill.  Jamey and Gary tried to split it up, but I reminded them of all the dinners I turned in that were far more expensive than this.  Plus they had company cards.  It was actually quite comical. It was like we played “hot potato” with the bill. My personal favorite is credit card roulette, but that is neither here nor there. Anyway, Jamey eventually wound up with the check and apparently had a senior moment when filling in the tip.  While it was a low (9% actually), none of us noticed until the waiter came by and saw what Jamey had put down.  He immediate points to the tip and says to Jamey “You need to put down more tip.  That’s not even 10 percent.”  We all do the double take, like when the record scratches in the movies and you ask yourself, “did he just really say that.”  Well in this case it was true.  And for those of you who are appalled by the waiter’s actions, let me remind you, this is New York, people are going to get paid one way or another.  And he stood there until Jamey fixed it.  Hilarious.  And not wanting to have our faces put up in the back as banned from eating, we quickly tell Jamey how much he should have put down, made several disparaging comments about the public school systems in Iowa, and laughed our way out the door.  Apparently not the best day for Papa Bear.

After that, dessert was easy.  There was a gelato stand set up right outside the restaurant and we got a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of pistachio.  Two of the three flavors in Becky’s favorite: Spumoni. And like true Southerners living as Yankee impostors, we walked the wrong way back to take Becky to the Subway, only to fight the crowd one more time before finding the right way.  It was a really good night, and it was really good to see the guys.  We did our best to tie one on here in the Big City, but by 1:00 we were ready to hit the hay. I was already 2.5 hours past my bed time, and the other two amigos’ passes from the nursing home had long since expired.  So we said our farewells and I got on the Subway after midnight for the first time.  And while memories of “The Midnight Meat Train” filled my head, the Brick breaker game on my Blackberry steered my thoughts clear of being brutally murdered on the Subway and then being eaten by aliens (I watch some great movies don’t I?).  I returned back to Brooklyn tired, weary, but happy.  Happy to have spent some time with friends.  And that dear readers, has been rare since we’ve been here in Brooklyn.