I was at a dinner honoring somebody or other in a big hall at a big private club. The gentleman next to me asked me abruptly, in the midst of general, smallish conversation, what my favorite restaurants were (specifically here in New York). I'd had a bit to drink, so maybe the world looked extra hostile, but I sensed that this was not an inquiry so much as a challenge. His eyes looked dark; he wanted me to falter. I squirmed. I said something about my love of Koreatown, especially the places with interior waterfalls and white pianos and stellar, steely lunch-lady servers who mind your barbecue coals. I mentioned a few places by name.
I knew, once and for all, that this exchange had been a bit hateful, when I found myself responding to his question the next morning, to myself, while brushing my teeth (I only do this with late responses to semi-bullying). I had completely forgotten to mention my most favorite kind of New York restaurant---THE EUROTRASH LUNCH SPOT! Principal among these are Bice in midtown and Da Silvano/Bar Pitti (though clearly there are so many that I've yet to find). The food and wine are unfalteringly good, spot-on, thorough Italian menus (Da Silvano and Bar Pitti are remarkably good and Bice a little less so). In both cases, the waiters are flawless; the interiors nice and also pretty frumpy. The crowd is unmatched, orange-skinned, Dior-decked. The whole---kind of bliss-making (once, tipsy and full of bolognese, I saw a massive body guard standing outside of the bathroom at Da Silvano, timing Allegra Versace with a stop watch---for truth!).
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