Evening dining in New York City
The first thing we did was order a bottle of wine and some appetizers. Linda ordered the lobster fetuccini in a light wine sauce. I ordered snails on polenta in a creamed spinach sauce. The food was delicious. The waiters were solicitous. They recommended the beef filet. It was rare and excellent. The only thing lacking in the meal was the absence of our favorite, garlic. It was puzzling. An older heavy set man was sitting at the bar, appearing to hold court. Linda remarked that he must be the owner and that he looked interesting. She suggested we join him. We moved to the bar and ordered a Grand Marnier. He recommended dessert so we ordered tiramasu, one order to split. It too was excellent. We began to visit with him. He was the owner, emigrated from Bologna in 1976 with his wife who was a German American student. They had five sons. His wife was dead. He bought us another Grand Marnier. We learned that one of his sons was the chef. Our bill approached $200. We decided that the absence of garlic was because he was from Bologna. We left the restaurant and went to an Irish pub down the street. The place was dead. It was a Monday. We hailed a taxi and returned to the area of the Waldorf and shut down a rowdy bar about 2 a.m. The martinis were as expected, in the high dollar range. We slept like babies.