This is a review of last weekend.
Tink posts reviews of all of the shopping and restaraunts she used to do and eat at. No more since she started drowning in her new job, but I figured I’d post a review of the weekend.
For atmosphere, her home town comes highly recommended. Exactly the kind of 1920’s/1930’s homes that I asipire to. Her house is particularly quaint, with an upstairs hall shaped like a hook and an incredibly spacious bathroom (at least compared to the closet we have). There are nooks and crannies everywhere, doors that go nowhere and places where the house reconnects unexpectedly. Highly recommended on charm.
Friday night, we ate at her friend Enzo’s restaraunt. I’m sure I’m spelling his name wrong. We ate until we couldn’t move (a common occurance these days, actually. Not sure where the gluttony comes from, but that’s another story.) I had sole, which was lovely, and had to come to grips with exactly how picky of an eater I really am. They ordered a lovely pasta dish with mushrooms. I was so embarassed by the list of things that I don’t eat, I didn’t dare add mushrooms to the list. I’m glad I didn’t, because if one must consume mushrooms, Enzo’s pasta is the way to go. We were a table of 8, a happy, boisterous table of 8. The husband really enjoyed himself and I think we’ve identified another thing that is wrong with the area that we live in: we don’t eat with anyone save immediate family. Anyway, the company was as good as the food and the food was to die for. Clearly, if one is going to eat Italian, one should do it in Jersey.
Saturday, we ventured into the city to eat at a famous restaraunt, but I don’t remember the name of the place (which will horrify Tink, I’m sure). The food was wicked rich and very good, though my eggs were runny (see above note about food issues. I don’t like runny eggs. I won’t write down why because the story might induce others to give up runny eggs and I wouldn’t want to get in the way of another’s pleasure.) Then, for no apparent reason, the chef sent out three free deserts: one that was pastry around cream stuff topped with warm fudge, one that was bananas with a carmelized crunchy top (like the top of creme brulee) and caramel and icecream. I consumed the better part of that one quite happily. The last one was chocolate something, but I was so happy with my bananas that I didn’t bother. Our waiter had an accent that was very distinctly not French, so when he tried to pronounce a french word and butchered it we were inclined to be forgiving. All up until he apologized for the incorrect pronunciation and tried to blame it on the fact that he was french. Bizarre.
We then came home and settled in for the promised blizzard. We went to Whole Foods where we got more food than we could possibly eat, and we cooked quite happily (and the home food was just as good as everything else, even though Tink was rather neurotic about how her baked chicken was going to come out.)
Sunday was the blizzard and two feet of snow. We waited as long as we could for the NJ turnpike to get cleared before we came home, but even leaving at 4:00 in the afternoon, there were still spots where it narrowed down to one clear lane. We would have stayed one more day, but the hubby had school and I had work and I wasn’t about to spend a vacation day that I don’t even have on a blizzard. I’m trying to get out of the hole on vacation time as it is.
But more on that next Tuesday.