And then it happened.
The weekend my parents were in town, the good Lord decided to dump about half of the worlds fresh water supply on our fair city of New Yorksey. The rain was torrential, and there went our dreams. A quaint walk through Soho where we happen upon an adorable cafe serving the most delicious cream filled pastries? NO! A jaunt through Little Italy, the wind in our hair ready to seek out the best sausage sauce we could find? NO. NO, NO, NO! Instead we were rushing from subway stations to cabs, trying to keep our $3.50 umbrellas intact...well, they were. My umbrella went missing - as if it couldn't get any better.
Even while darting around the tidal waves that I guess could be called "puddles," at least there was still food. And my oh my was it delicious. We spent the first night eating in Little Italy. In order to find the best restaurant in the area, my Dad took an approach that almost none would dare. He decided that the best person to ask would be a Maitre' D in the area. He says to the man, "So what is really the best restaurant in the area?" doing that lean in, squinty eyed thing that the men do in mobster movies. The man answers that his restaurant is quite good to which my Dad responds, "No, no - I'm sure yours is great, but what's really the best? Were looking for something authentic..." Uh, am I missing something here? Isn't it that man's job to sell us on his restaurant? And when did I jump into an episode of the Sopranos?
Well, turns out Dad knows what he's doing and we are referred to Angelo's where we proceeded to eat through their stock of bread for the evening and when we ask what the best deserts are, the waiter scoops up our menus and through his thick accent tells us, "Da Berry Tart-ah, and da lemon tart-ah" giving us a swift karate chop hand motion as if to say, "No more questions or you'll get whacked."
I love Little Italy (smile...shudder).
The next night we are theatre patrons extraordinaire! We made our dinner reservations at celebrity chef Bobby Flay's restaurant Mesa Grill. All I can say is de-li-cious. Delicious and thank god we aren't vegetarian anymore, ha! After eating some perfect animal carcasses and the best potatoes I've ever met we were off to see "Young Frankenstein: The Musical."
I have not yet mentioned that my Dad and I love Mel Brooks and really love "Young Frankenstein" the movie. If you haven't seen it, stop reading right this second and go purchase both "Young Frankenstein" and "Blazing Saddles." You can thank me later.
Especially for fans the show was hilarious. When they started to do "Puttin' On the Ritz" I literally thought my Dad might have a heart attack. They had to hold for applause for nearly two full minutes after the number started.
Then we went out for dessert...again. I wont lie to you, Briann and I may have gained about 5 pounds each while the parents were here. I guess the double dessert was a little indulgent, but just a little.
The next day we decided to drive into the city and by we I mean ME. I was the only one doing the driving and I didn't even hyperventilate. I did, however, almost cost us our lives about 13 times. I will never understand why cab drivers don't follow any rules of the road. Even a simple turn signal would help. We were in search of the Pickle Guys. You see, my father has an unnatural love of all things pickle. I have seen the man drink glasses of pickle juice like they were water and eat upwards of seven pickles in one sitting. Well, we have found the pickle mecca in the Pickle Guys. You walk in to find about 25 barrels of different kinds of pickles, olives, and veggies. The men are yelling like you're in a fish market and asking you to make decisions about what you want when you have no idea exactly what they have. We definitely walked out of there with some pickles, just don't ask me what kind they were.
Rain, weight gain, road rage, and Broadway. All things considered, I'd say this was a great trip and one that Briann and I probably needed more than they did.
I'll leave you with the best line of the trip:
As we were eating at Angelo's everyone was sharing bits of their food so that we could try everything. About 10 minutes into the main course(and that's being generous), as most of us are just starting to make a dent in our plates, Briann looks up and says,
"I'm embarrassed to say this but...last call on the manicotti."
-J
4 comments:
oh my - guess we need to get the California parents out there sometime. But we'll give you guys a chance to recover (really, it's so we'll be appreciated) ok?
We had a FANTASTIC time!!! Thank you so much for your wonderful hospitality. We survived the monsoon and Jenny's NYC bumper cars. Your place is wonderful and when you both are starring in Broadway shows you will be able to say "remember when we didn't ride in cabs."
I love you Jenny----DAD
Hi Jen, Great story about your Dad's visit! What are you up to these days? We are just enjoying spring - all the trees are blooming - Jno and I went to the Cherry Blossom festival on Sat. It was spectacular - but so very crowded! Not Mike's kind of thing. "Nothing in America!..." ha! But, Mike and Sue took us out on Sunday to visit wineries - and that was really fun, too. We now have 6 bottles of wine, and we don't even really like wine! Hmmmm - perhaps all those swallows went to our heads! Charlie is sitting here beside me looking highly intelligent. See - he is an actor, too! He is whining to go outside. Before I sat down, he was whining to come in. Suc a doggie dilema - in or out? Dakota is grumping under the desk, so all is normal there. And Mr. Chips will see the vet again this afternoon. Mr. Puncture Wound, aka "Da Pincushion." Gotta love pets. Must go - hope all is well! Love ya lots, Jno and Lin
Awwww. That's so sweet that your dad comments on your blog.
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