Another week in the city got me across the goal line; I won’t be back for much more than schmoozing and food-related activities for a while. It’s ironic, because all of a sudden our old neighborhood is hipster central, with an embarassment of culinary and commercial riches that we could not have imagined only a few years ago when we lived there. So it’s sad to return, but the pangs of regret are mitigated some by the size of the rent checks I now get, plus the fact that I love our life here in the sticks, particularly as it relates to our garden and the first-rate meats, birds, and grains we have direct access to now. Also, the boy is ecstatic and spends most of his life outside, as is proper.
As a respite from my toils preparing the ground floor apartment, I was able to go out for some meals- two of which were excellent. Monday night, Mary and I took a friend who was paralyzed in a hit-and-run last winter out to Dressler (his choice) in Williamsburg, which has a pretty reasonable corkage fee, so she and I planned ahead and came well prepared with a Burgundy-themed evening. I left my notes in Brooklyn, but the food was good to very good- pretty straightforward, but well-executed, and with quality ingredients- and a couple (the two that Mary brought) of wines were superior. In my defense, I bought mine the day before and the worse of the two was solely on the rec of the guy in the store. The better one was from a domaine that has since ben bought by Camille Giroud, for whom Mary’s beau makes the wine.
Thursday was John’s bachelor party lunch at Nobu Fifty Seven; the guys in the band have known Shin for many years-since he was at Hatsuhana, I think- and have followed him as he moved around to different restaurants. He hooked us up with an omikase extravaganza that lasted for three hours. Nine guys, 12+ courses, and semingly bottomless daiginjo sake. Most amazing, by the end of it all we were neither stuffed nor drunk. Perfection. I took a crap phone picture of the mammoth platter of sushi he sent us to conclude the meal (but before the bananas foster with rum ice cream and the molten chocolate cakes with intense matcha ice cream served in a bento box) that I will spare you.
Now I’m home, and it’s just me and Milo for a few days, so I’m playing with kid food permutations involving healthier and fancier ingredients.