The problem is that I DID have the same wonderful experience, and she couldn’t see it. I thought the food was great. Also the cocktail.

“I’m mystified by the identity of Hogwart.”

I think that’s the Portland blogger I met in NYC who I invited along. She was sitting between me and Nancy. I think you guys didn’t talk because I was between you.

This article caused an emotion to stir within myself and for that I am grateful to the author for producing it.

Actually that was a beret, not a bandana; and I’m a vegetarian, not a vegan. But – as I mentioned in my e-mail to you after the event – I did enjoy meeting you, and I’m sorry if the feeling wasn’t mutual. I would hate to think that my company spoiled a good dinner for you.

I’m assuming that Rumple is Judith from Kesher Talk, but I confess I’m mystified by the identity of Hogwart. If you are having trouble remembering the names of the people who joined you for dinner that evening, you might want to see if my posts on the event jog your memory -

http://asher813.typepad.com/dreams_into_lightning/2007/06/new_friends.html

http://asher813.typepad.com/dreams_into_lightning/2007/06/of_food_family_.html

Still, when I read it I thought I
recognized Nancy’s frustration, from a different angle. It is very much like I feel when I try to explain to people, friends, my bottomless enthusiasm about Jane Austen’s novels (for example). For the most part, I get watery smiles and polite concurrence but none of the reciprocity of enjoyment that would signal a genuine sharing of my sentiments. For Nancy, the restaurant was so wonderful, that she wanted the other guests to have that same wonderful experience. This is generosity, and I’m hoping Yehudit can see that, despite the ruffled feathers etc:-)

But do you usually expect someone to know exactly what she wants from a quirky drink menu within seconds of sitting down?

And when someone asks “how does this work?” she might be referring to the demands of this particular meal: are we ordering our own or splitting the tab? wine too? what’s been ordered so far? are we to expect an entree as well? It is reasonable to want to know these things, and they don’t deserve a patronizing response.

“What’s ‘potatoes bravas’?” she asked. I told her, probably something with potatoes.

Scintillating. That, my friends, is what a real Foodie sounds like. You’re wondering what the Chowhound forums are like, they sound like that.

The steak arrived as fat slices of rib eye, a cut I adore. Hogwart and Rumple began poking at it with their knives, one pinning it in place while the other pulled away the lovely rim of fat and plopped it on the tablecloth.

I remember that steak, it was wonderful, and I think I scooped up my friend’s rim of fat. I must confess I wasn’t watching your dextrous way with cutlery, so how did you carve a small thick cut of meat on a tiny plate, with no poking allowed?

On second thought, I must not be Rumple after all, because I love beets and olives and I did have the sardines and I know what paella is. Perhaps what I really said was “how’s the paella?” The restaurant was noisy after all.

I am beginning to think these characters (except for my vegan beer-drinking friend) are composites, drawn from three unpleasant dinners at a great restaurant. It’s a lovely piece of fiction – MFK Fisher must be shivering with awe in her grave.

Am I Rumple? As I remember it was raining that day, although it may have stopped by the time I got there. I got there late (via taxi) because Michael was supposed to give me a ride, but he was totally immobilized in traffic because of bridges going up and down due to Fleet Week. He was even later. Perhaps we were Rumpled and not paying proper attention to the menu and the hallowed procedures because of these unexpected delays.

As I remember, most of us were enjoying the conversation, and consulting the menu intermittantly because we were there to enjoy each other’s company, and we aren’t Foodies. Sorry.

And I think the other woman you are dissing is a Portland blogger I had met the previous week in NYC, who I had invited to join us. Since it was Michael’s dinner, and he said okay, I didn’t realize that I had to submit her for your approval. I hope she had a good time anyway, and I’m sorry I didn’t arrive early enough to run interference for her.

For the record, I have eaten tapas many times, and I liked the restaurant a lot. I think I did have the oxtail, and I loved all the dishes I had. I passed on the pork in my half-assed way of keeping kosher. I did have a fun cocktail specialty of the house, although I forget the details.

If you like fun cocktails, a huge wine list, and delicious small serving plates, next time you are in NYC may I recommend the Park Blue?