Remember him? Shortly after it became apparent that my two or three phone calls to him were not going to be answered, he deleted his profile from connexion. I haven't heard from him, I don't think I will, but I wonder, is the effect I have on people to just make them run?
Being bicultural can be a curse, I feel that people just totally and completely misread me. Directness seems to be a germ that gay men run from.
A.B.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Fall arrived...
I knew fall had arrived the day I needed to pull out one of my sweaters to stop the shivering. It was not freezing, nor was it very cold. It had cooled and the coolness had touched me deep inside. Fall had arrived.
Traditionally, the fall has signified for me a time of reflection and contemplation, as the days grow shorter and the night embracing.
I have been pondering something that happened recently given the enormous amounts of time I have spent alone. I bumped into M.I. (see this, this, this and that) at a bar of ill-repute (you know, one of those bars I usually don't go to and have been to perhaps 2 or 3 times in my 4 years in New York). I had honestly gone with a friend that recently moved to New York as a joke, to go to a raunchy place. Well, apparently my concept of ill-repute is either ill-defined or ill-repute is in. I bumped into several acquaintances and M.I. My friend ended up leaving with one of such acquaintances.
M.I. tried to make visual contact at least three times until I acknowledged him. I feigned inability to see him given the darkness. On the fourth try, I fixed my face with a puzzled, almost quixotic, look and he approached. I said hello and introduced my friend; he began a conversation.
In a situation like this, the conversation was almost pre-fabricated, including the 'how are you', 'how have you been', 'how is work', 'work sucks' (him), 'my life sucks' (him), 'don't want to go into it' (him), 'been meaning to call you' (him). "I have been meaning to call you" ? ? ? Why, why, oh why? Such a tainted lie. Whenever I tell someone that I have been meaning to call them, 9 times out of 10 it means I had not been meaning to call you but since I am in front of you and I can see you and you can see me, I will tell you I have been meaning to call you. Plain stupid. That is what I call a game (be it with friends, romantic interests or acquaintances).
Anyhow, he did say that it was a coincidence that we had bumped into each other at this place. Mind you, I do not believe in coincidences, neither in this specific case, nor in any other. I needed to, and cosmically or karmically (however you wish to look at it), I was meant to see him then and there.
Shortly afterwards, M.I. grabbed my hand and pecked me on the lips at least on three different occasions. Perhaps he thought that because we were in a place of ill-repute I had somehow lowered my expectations or was just plain horny for him? I didn't respond, and am sure that my stiff unwavering lips were demonstration enough of my disdain for his intentions (actual or imagined). He parted thereafter and I didn't see him again for the remainder of the evening. He must have left with someone.
So, I ask myself, why did this happen and what am I to do. I know that in any event I won't be contacting M.I., I already promised that to myself. I feel like calling him on this and telling him that he is just terrible in thinking he can toy with a person whenever he feels the need to feel accomplished or desired. It is selfish, it is mean and, above all, hurtful.
It isn't M.I. (I think), it is what he represents and what he is not to me. He is not the person in my life and yet he is a presence. I was attracted to him and genuinely thought he and I could forge something; that has not been the case. He is the player; I feel like the toy.
A.B.
Traditionally, the fall has signified for me a time of reflection and contemplation, as the days grow shorter and the night embracing.
I have been pondering something that happened recently given the enormous amounts of time I have spent alone. I bumped into M.I. (see this, this, this and that) at a bar of ill-repute (you know, one of those bars I usually don't go to and have been to perhaps 2 or 3 times in my 4 years in New York). I had honestly gone with a friend that recently moved to New York as a joke, to go to a raunchy place. Well, apparently my concept of ill-repute is either ill-defined or ill-repute is in. I bumped into several acquaintances and M.I. My friend ended up leaving with one of such acquaintances.
M.I. tried to make visual contact at least three times until I acknowledged him. I feigned inability to see him given the darkness. On the fourth try, I fixed my face with a puzzled, almost quixotic, look and he approached. I said hello and introduced my friend; he began a conversation.
In a situation like this, the conversation was almost pre-fabricated, including the 'how are you', 'how have you been', 'how is work', 'work sucks' (him), 'my life sucks' (him), 'don't want to go into it' (him), 'been meaning to call you' (him). "I have been meaning to call you" ? ? ? Why, why, oh why? Such a tainted lie. Whenever I tell someone that I have been meaning to call them, 9 times out of 10 it means I had not been meaning to call you but since I am in front of you and I can see you and you can see me, I will tell you I have been meaning to call you. Plain stupid. That is what I call a game (be it with friends, romantic interests or acquaintances).
Anyhow, he did say that it was a coincidence that we had bumped into each other at this place. Mind you, I do not believe in coincidences, neither in this specific case, nor in any other. I needed to, and cosmically or karmically (however you wish to look at it), I was meant to see him then and there.
Shortly afterwards, M.I. grabbed my hand and pecked me on the lips at least on three different occasions. Perhaps he thought that because we were in a place of ill-repute I had somehow lowered my expectations or was just plain horny for him? I didn't respond, and am sure that my stiff unwavering lips were demonstration enough of my disdain for his intentions (actual or imagined). He parted thereafter and I didn't see him again for the remainder of the evening. He must have left with someone.
So, I ask myself, why did this happen and what am I to do. I know that in any event I won't be contacting M.I., I already promised that to myself. I feel like calling him on this and telling him that he is just terrible in thinking he can toy with a person whenever he feels the need to feel accomplished or desired. It is selfish, it is mean and, above all, hurtful.
It isn't M.I. (I think), it is what he represents and what he is not to me. He is not the person in my life and yet he is a presence. I was attracted to him and genuinely thought he and I could forge something; that has not been the case. He is the player; I feel like the toy.
A.B.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Ain't that the truth
The following article entitled "Poll: Americans becoming ruder in hurry-up world" was published on Friday, October 14, 2005 and Posted at 3:10 p.m. EDT (19:10 GMT) on CNN.com, and isn't it the truth. (I would post the article itself here, but due to copyright/copywrong, I am unable to do so). Perhaps in the microcosm of New York City, the veracity of this article is heightened. Urbania has eaten away at our considerations of appropriate behavior (both in public and in the home), and it is depressing.
People speaking loudly on their cellphones in the most inappropriate of places (the elevator, a coffee shop, a store) and forcing innocent bystanders to partake in their banal conversations; individuals incapable of saying 'thank you' and 'excuse me' left and right; rude women devoid of femininity; men lacking basic gentlemanly skills. It is all appalling, but what is perhaps even more atrocious is the fact that nobody notices anymore, everybody just seems to accept this etiquette-vacuum with no remorse.
Politeness and civility require effort and conscientious devotion. I think it would be a better city if people dedicated some portion of their gray matter to them.
A.B.
People speaking loudly on their cellphones in the most inappropriate of places (the elevator, a coffee shop, a store) and forcing innocent bystanders to partake in their banal conversations; individuals incapable of saying 'thank you' and 'excuse me' left and right; rude women devoid of femininity; men lacking basic gentlemanly skills. It is all appalling, but what is perhaps even more atrocious is the fact that nobody notices anymore, everybody just seems to accept this etiquette-vacuum with no remorse.
Politeness and civility require effort and conscientious devotion. I think it would be a better city if people dedicated some portion of their gray matter to them.
A.B.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself
I have invited two couples, friends of mine, to dinner in a couple of weeks. I will be cooking a meal and look forward to doing so with slight anxiety. The task of pleasing guests is foreboding to me because I believe that part of the art of entertaining is seamlessness and a feeling of ease throughout the experience. A lot of effort is required to orchestrate seamlessness and ease in an inviting and pleasurable environment. And that is the root of my slight anxiety.
Cooking itself is a therapeutic activity. I usually start off my day by going shopping to get all my ingredients fresh. About 5 hours prior to arrival, I begin preparations by opening a bottle of wine and starting the cooking. The wine really helps to relax and enjoy the cooking. Plus, my dog is always there to accompany (and catch anything that might inadvertently fall to within his reach).
I am thrilled at the prospect of having a delightful evening at home with close friendsand am looking forward to having my friends over. H.P. is invited with his partner and L.M. with his partner. This is the first time I am cooking a meal for them. It will be a Mexican feast.
I've decided to make my purchases at what I now call the Museum of Food: WholeFoodsTM. That alone is quite a trip/tour and I hope not to get too distracted looking at all the shiny things. I have scoped out fresh tortillas in the city (made of white corn and of blue corn) and will be making some real quesdillas and guacamole. Dinner will be refried beans (bayos), arroz a la mexicana and some mole poblano (inappropriately referred to as the "chocolate sauce") over chicken. Mole is more than a chocolate sauce. It is a complex and rich admixture of native (to Mexico) ingredients laboriously combined to render a velvety sauce with hints of peanut and sesame, chocolate and banana, and chiles, all paired with juicy chicken (or turkey). I can't wait to share this with them. And, of course, a bottle of my Vouvray to start, followed by some Monte Xanic Merlot or Merlot/Cabernet Sauvignon mix from Mexico.
I think that what I like most about having friends over is that I have an opportunity to share a part of my history, my culture and gastronomical background and, at the same time, enjoy their wonderful company. I wish I were able to entertain more frequently as an enriching and gratifying time is always had.
In a very dallowayesque manner, I have selected the flowers I will be purchasing the day of the dinner; White Lilies instead of the traditional Mexican Calla Lilly. They are beautifully white and elegant.
A.B.
Cooking itself is a therapeutic activity. I usually start off my day by going shopping to get all my ingredients fresh. About 5 hours prior to arrival, I begin preparations by opening a bottle of wine and starting the cooking. The wine really helps to relax and enjoy the cooking. Plus, my dog is always there to accompany (and catch anything that might inadvertently fall to within his reach).
I am thrilled at the prospect of having a delightful evening at home with close friendsand am looking forward to having my friends over. H.P. is invited with his partner and L.M. with his partner. This is the first time I am cooking a meal for them. It will be a Mexican feast.
I've decided to make my purchases at what I now call the Museum of Food: WholeFoodsTM. That alone is quite a trip/tour and I hope not to get too distracted looking at all the shiny things. I have scoped out fresh tortillas in the city (made of white corn and of blue corn) and will be making some real quesdillas and guacamole. Dinner will be refried beans (bayos), arroz a la mexicana and some mole poblano (inappropriately referred to as the "chocolate sauce") over chicken. Mole is more than a chocolate sauce. It is a complex and rich admixture of native (to Mexico) ingredients laboriously combined to render a velvety sauce with hints of peanut and sesame, chocolate and banana, and chiles, all paired with juicy chicken (or turkey). I can't wait to share this with them. And, of course, a bottle of my Vouvray to start, followed by some Monte Xanic Merlot or Merlot/Cabernet Sauvignon mix from Mexico.
I think that what I like most about having friends over is that I have an opportunity to share a part of my history, my culture and gastronomical background and, at the same time, enjoy their wonderful company. I wish I were able to entertain more frequently as an enriching and gratifying time is always had.
In a very dallowayesque manner, I have selected the flowers I will be purchasing the day of the dinner; White Lilies instead of the traditional Mexican Calla Lilly. They are beautifully white and elegant.
A.B.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
A Quote from a Quote and a Line from a Book I am reading
I didn't want to forget to write about this. I am reading this book, a fascinating book on the founding fathers and the relationships among them. It is a more personable look at the era and their, at times radical, differences.
The factual and historical aside, the book is insightful with respect to the quotes of personal correspondence and the beauty of the English language when properly used to express. In the chapter on "The Collaborators" where the author describes the Adams-Jefferson relationship and what brings about their "great collaboration" and then their ensuing "collaboration" following certain differences, the author makes reference to several communiqués between John Adams and his wife, Abigail Adams.
One of those letters is a discussion between John and Abigail regarding his probabilities of becoming the President of the United States and whether she would move to the seat of government or remain in Philadelphia. She responds ultimately along the lines that she will go wherever providence dictates as follows: "My Ambition leads me not to be first in Rome" but to "reign in the heart of my husband. That is my throne and there I aspire to be absolute."
I want to write like that. More importantly, I would like to reign in the heart of that special someone and have him reign in mine.
A.B.
The factual and historical aside, the book is insightful with respect to the quotes of personal correspondence and the beauty of the English language when properly used to express. In the chapter on "The Collaborators" where the author describes the Adams-Jefferson relationship and what brings about their "great collaboration" and then their ensuing "collaboration" following certain differences, the author makes reference to several communiqués between John Adams and his wife, Abigail Adams.
One of those letters is a discussion between John and Abigail regarding his probabilities of becoming the President of the United States and whether she would move to the seat of government or remain in Philadelphia. She responds ultimately along the lines that she will go wherever providence dictates as follows: "My Ambition leads me not to be first in Rome" but to "reign in the heart of my husband. That is my throne and there I aspire to be absolute."
I want to write like that. More importantly, I would like to reign in the heart of that special someone and have him reign in mine.
A.B.
Scheduling versus Spontaneity
This has been one of those calmer weekends where plans for better or for worse fell through and those that were not made in advance turned out to be splendid. I wonder at times whether I should force tradition and schedule out much á la New York way -- planning out for weeks in advance. I am much more married to the notion that spontaneity brings more pleasure and ultimately makes activities much more enjoyable. But, given my spontaneity, or desire therefor, this weekend was not as active as may have possibly have been had I planned ahead of time.
Friday I stayed home and finally forced myself out to a bar. I had been waiting for the call that had been promised to me via e-mail on Friday morning from this guy. That call never came and I was disappointed. Serves me right though for putting stock in others. I don't get guys like that.
In any event, Saturday was much the same. I called friends and, of course, they all already had plans (made weeks in advance) to do this or that. I went shopping on Saturday. I needed a dishdrainer from Williams & Sonoma and ended up buying a nice pair of To Boot Adam Derrick shoes which made my day. My sourpuss mood dissipated instantaneously both at the bargain the shoes were and how great the looked (on me!). I felt so much like Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City with a pair of Manolos. I was in heaven. I bought some other things at Bed Bath & Beyond (so many gay people there, unfortunately, all partnered or what seemed like partnered) and then decided to sit down at the 24 Diner and have a late lunch. I pulled out my book and ordered. There was something nice about sitting down on my own and having lunch: I observed passersby and also had a chance to ponder things over about my life, job, etc. It was good.
I also went and saw a movie, which brought another smile to my face, Wallace & Gromit The Curse of the Were-Rabbit which is a riot of a playmation movie. If you aren't familiar with Wallace & Gromit, get thee to a DVD store and buy the first three movies. They are sweet and innocent but, at the same time, quirky and piquant. I laughed endlessly and the man in front of me guffawed purposely showing how un-entertaining my movie was. I wanted to slap him silly. Interestingly enough, his friends were enjoying the movie as well.
Today Sunday, my dog needed a bath, so I arranged for a visit to the groomer. In the meantime, I had brunch with my friend C.C., her dad and our friend T.H. and then went window shopping in the Meat Packing District. BTW, brunch at One Little West 12th is quite nice and decently priced.
Now, I am home, ready to rest from what feels like an oddly tiring weekend in which I didn't really do much and preparing to go out to XES to watch Desperate Housewives.
Ah, the simple things in life. Maybe being spontaneous is better. I am exhausted!
A.B.
Friday I stayed home and finally forced myself out to a bar. I had been waiting for the call that had been promised to me via e-mail on Friday morning from this guy. That call never came and I was disappointed. Serves me right though for putting stock in others. I don't get guys like that.
In any event, Saturday was much the same. I called friends and, of course, they all already had plans (made weeks in advance) to do this or that. I went shopping on Saturday. I needed a dishdrainer from Williams & Sonoma and ended up buying a nice pair of To Boot Adam Derrick shoes which made my day. My sourpuss mood dissipated instantaneously both at the bargain the shoes were and how great the looked (on me!). I felt so much like Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City with a pair of Manolos. I was in heaven. I bought some other things at Bed Bath & Beyond (so many gay people there, unfortunately, all partnered or what seemed like partnered) and then decided to sit down at the 24 Diner and have a late lunch. I pulled out my book and ordered. There was something nice about sitting down on my own and having lunch: I observed passersby and also had a chance to ponder things over about my life, job, etc. It was good.
I also went and saw a movie, which brought another smile to my face, Wallace & Gromit The Curse of the Were-Rabbit which is a riot of a playmation movie. If you aren't familiar with Wallace & Gromit, get thee to a DVD store and buy the first three movies. They are sweet and innocent but, at the same time, quirky and piquant. I laughed endlessly and the man in front of me guffawed purposely showing how un-entertaining my movie was. I wanted to slap him silly. Interestingly enough, his friends were enjoying the movie as well.
Today Sunday, my dog needed a bath, so I arranged for a visit to the groomer. In the meantime, I had brunch with my friend C.C., her dad and our friend T.H. and then went window shopping in the Meat Packing District. BTW, brunch at One Little West 12th is quite nice and decently priced.
Now, I am home, ready to rest from what feels like an oddly tiring weekend in which I didn't really do much and preparing to go out to XES to watch Desperate Housewives.
Ah, the simple things in life. Maybe being spontaneous is better. I am exhausted!
A.B.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Meeting guys online, I think I need to rethink that
I have profiles on several websites, so many I now feel, that I may have become an internet-profile-whore. Perhaps people will see my friendster profile, my connexion profile or my gay.com profile and think I am desperate or something? I certainly hope not! Yeah, it would be nice to meet a guy that would have the ability to make you feel giddy and nice and all, but, the reality is those sites also serve a social purpose: making friends or sharing interests.
In any event, about a week ago, I read a profile on one of these sites. The guy, aside from seeming very handsome from his pictures, shared an uncommon amount of similarities with me, among them:
1. Interest in travel, reading, film, fine wine and cooking and dining;
2. Likes Lost, Alias, Desperate Housewives, etc.;
3. Movies that include several of my own, including Woody Allen and Pedro Almodóvar;
4. Southern guy originally;
5. Enjoys a nice night at home.
That is a very succinct bulletpoint summary of the profile. His interest and knowledge of wine for having been involved in a wine publication truly called my attention and made me want to contact him more than anything.
I e-mailed him the following:
I read your profile... And smiled. I could say we have a lot in common, but that would be trite. Oops. Your interest in fine wine and dining, and life at [Magazine Name] caught my attention pretty quickly. I didn't go to the [School Name] course, but took the Kevin Zraly Windows on the World Wine School course (it is about 8 weeks, in 8 2-hour installments) and had a spectacular time learning about wine. I actually met this incredible girl there who has since become a dear friend. I like the communal aspect of wine, the sharing, not the snobbery. [...] I consider myself a well-rounded guy with varied interests. I think that underneath it all is a desire to explore new things and be challenged. I equally enjoy, but for different reasons, going to an exhibit or seeing a Hollywood movie [...]; a burger or a four-course meal. Makes life a lot more fun that way. Have you been to Craft Restaurant? It is one of my favorites so far. Do you have a favorite restaurant in town? Well, as I said, I liked your profile and wanted to drop you a line. If after you've had a chance to view mine you feel inclined to initiate a conversation, please do. I look forward to it. Hope you have a great day, [Name].
So, after that, we have had the proverbial e-mailing back and forth with bouts of cuteness and flirtation (me thinks), but ultimately, not too much follow through. I asked for his phone number five days after the first e-mail and he sent it on over. Today I called and, as in prior experiences, got voicemail. Voicemail can be such a hideous thing when you actually want to talk to someone. As lawyers say, it can be both a sword or a shield. So, unfortunately, I left a message and didn't get a call back. What is the appropriate amount of time to wait before calling back or should I simply wait for him to call back?
Maybe I need to take a step back and go the old fashioned way and not "force" meeting people through the internet because it detracts from the magic and the spontaneity of meeting in the real world. Something to ponder I guess.
A.B.
In any event, about a week ago, I read a profile on one of these sites. The guy, aside from seeming very handsome from his pictures, shared an uncommon amount of similarities with me, among them:
1. Interest in travel, reading, film, fine wine and cooking and dining;
2. Likes Lost, Alias, Desperate Housewives, etc.;
3. Movies that include several of my own, including Woody Allen and Pedro Almodóvar;
4. Southern guy originally;
5. Enjoys a nice night at home.
That is a very succinct bulletpoint summary of the profile. His interest and knowledge of wine for having been involved in a wine publication truly called my attention and made me want to contact him more than anything.
I e-mailed him the following:
I read your profile... And smiled. I could say we have a lot in common, but that would be trite. Oops. Your interest in fine wine and dining, and life at [Magazine Name] caught my attention pretty quickly. I didn't go to the [School Name] course, but took the Kevin Zraly Windows on the World Wine School course (it is about 8 weeks, in 8 2-hour installments) and had a spectacular time learning about wine. I actually met this incredible girl there who has since become a dear friend. I like the communal aspect of wine, the sharing, not the snobbery. [...] I consider myself a well-rounded guy with varied interests. I think that underneath it all is a desire to explore new things and be challenged. I equally enjoy, but for different reasons, going to an exhibit or seeing a Hollywood movie [...]; a burger or a four-course meal. Makes life a lot more fun that way. Have you been to Craft Restaurant? It is one of my favorites so far. Do you have a favorite restaurant in town? Well, as I said, I liked your profile and wanted to drop you a line. If after you've had a chance to view mine you feel inclined to initiate a conversation, please do. I look forward to it. Hope you have a great day, [Name].
So, after that, we have had the proverbial e-mailing back and forth with bouts of cuteness and flirtation (me thinks), but ultimately, not too much follow through. I asked for his phone number five days after the first e-mail and he sent it on over. Today I called and, as in prior experiences, got voicemail. Voicemail can be such a hideous thing when you actually want to talk to someone. As lawyers say, it can be both a sword or a shield. So, unfortunately, I left a message and didn't get a call back. What is the appropriate amount of time to wait before calling back or should I simply wait for him to call back?
Maybe I need to take a step back and go the old fashioned way and not "force" meeting people through the internet because it detracts from the magic and the spontaneity of meeting in the real world. Something to ponder I guess.
A.B.
Internet Merchants are Amazing
Monday, October 03, 2005
Daniel (no, that's not the name of a guy I'm dating)
Saturday was a nice escape from the rapidity of life in the city. I went on a date with a guy from out of town, German to be exact, to what, prior to then, I had considered to be the epitomy of pomp and arrogance in restaurant dining in New York: Daniel. Please do not get me wrong, I am not against pomp and arrogance in restaurant dining, it is just that Daniel had seemed too white-glove for me to fathom with any regularity and the occasion had not arisen for me to dine there.
I went into the date, and the restaurant, with not many expectations. With respect to the date, the reality is that he lives in Germany, I live in New York. It will not progress, I know myself.
With respect to Daniel, I was not expecting much based on a prior experience at another famed, albeit newer, Gotham venue: Per Se. Per Se having been a disappointment (Per Se was not bad, it was actually, delicious, it just failed to rise above great and become spectacular and scintillating), I was weary that Daniel too might fall short of amazing and be just a great restaurant. I am happy to report, I was wrong. The meal was a mindfully orchestrated gala, paired (almost) to perfection with an array of wines spanning French whites and California reds. The only wine that was off, to my tasting, was a German red. Germany and red wines do not, in my experience, make a workable marriage.
In addition to the waiter flirting with me quite overtly (and then admitting, "I am more of a BBQ man myself, from New Jersey", forthwith nullifying any attractiveness he may have had due to his sophistication and knowledge of food and wines), my present company attentively hinging on my every word and providing me with engaging and intelligent conversation, I had a feast.
We started off with a masterful (and all this comes from the menu) Duo of Peeky Toe Crab"En Gelée" with Fennel and Cumin-Carrot Foam. That "foam" was heavenly, a true foam and not a gelatinized concoction, it was wispy, light and evanescent in the mouth. That was followed by Paupiette of Black Sea Bass in a Crisp Potato Shell with Tender Leeks and a Syrah Sauce which we were informed was the Daniel signature dish. It lived up to its name as such by all means. The Syrah sauce had the consistency of fine balsamic and the fruit of the Syrah. In combination with the bass and the potato shell, this alone, would have been more than enough. But, of course, I could not, would not, let it get in the way of what was to come. The Duo of Dry-Aged Beef: Braised Short Ribs in Red Wine with Caulfilower Gratin and Seared Rib Eye with Paprika "Pommes Duchesse"and Chanterelles was exploding with flavor, with the tender short rib coming apart at the first touch.
Dessert was not part of the tasting menu we had requested, but from the regular dessert menu. While ordering, the waiter had winked at me and said that for dessert, he would allow us to choose from the regular dessert menu. Both flattered and anticipating the dessert wonders I may experience, I smiled back.
I ordered the Warm Fig Tart with Vietnamese Cinnamon Crème Fraîche Ice Cream and Fig Jam. Wow! That's all I can say.
Above all, Daniel has an old-school feel but a sophistication and glamor that will surely have me back for seconds.
In addition, our dinner was paired with selections by the house of wines. One wine in particular has caught my fancy, a Vouvray from Domaine de la Haute Borne Tendre 2002, which was a symphony to the palate. I have liked it so much that this morning, while searching for that fabulous wine, I came upon and have subsequently become a member of WineFetch.com, a fabulous site to track your wines with internet merchants, notes about your experiences with particular wines and also a wineblog, how cool is that? I also have placed an order for my Vouvray and hope to be sipping it calmly at home shortly in the company of good friends.
As for the German, he went home on Sunday and e-mailed me upon arrival to say he had made it home safely. It is certainly a shame that two nice people who may be attracted to each other must succumb to the realities of distance. He will, however, be back in two weeks and I hope we will have the opportunity to share another evening like Saturday's. Any recommendations out there?
A.B.
I went into the date, and the restaurant, with not many expectations. With respect to the date, the reality is that he lives in Germany, I live in New York. It will not progress, I know myself.
With respect to Daniel, I was not expecting much based on a prior experience at another famed, albeit newer, Gotham venue: Per Se. Per Se having been a disappointment (Per Se was not bad, it was actually, delicious, it just failed to rise above great and become spectacular and scintillating), I was weary that Daniel too might fall short of amazing and be just a great restaurant. I am happy to report, I was wrong. The meal was a mindfully orchestrated gala, paired (almost) to perfection with an array of wines spanning French whites and California reds. The only wine that was off, to my tasting, was a German red. Germany and red wines do not, in my experience, make a workable marriage.
In addition to the waiter flirting with me quite overtly (and then admitting, "I am more of a BBQ man myself, from New Jersey", forthwith nullifying any attractiveness he may have had due to his sophistication and knowledge of food and wines), my present company attentively hinging on my every word and providing me with engaging and intelligent conversation, I had a feast.
We started off with a masterful (and all this comes from the menu) Duo of Peeky Toe Crab"En Gelée" with Fennel and Cumin-Carrot Foam. That "foam" was heavenly, a true foam and not a gelatinized concoction, it was wispy, light and evanescent in the mouth. That was followed by Paupiette of Black Sea Bass in a Crisp Potato Shell with Tender Leeks and a Syrah Sauce which we were informed was the Daniel signature dish. It lived up to its name as such by all means. The Syrah sauce had the consistency of fine balsamic and the fruit of the Syrah. In combination with the bass and the potato shell, this alone, would have been more than enough. But, of course, I could not, would not, let it get in the way of what was to come. The Duo of Dry-Aged Beef: Braised Short Ribs in Red Wine with Caulfilower Gratin and Seared Rib Eye with Paprika "Pommes Duchesse"and Chanterelles was exploding with flavor, with the tender short rib coming apart at the first touch.
Dessert was not part of the tasting menu we had requested, but from the regular dessert menu. While ordering, the waiter had winked at me and said that for dessert, he would allow us to choose from the regular dessert menu. Both flattered and anticipating the dessert wonders I may experience, I smiled back.
I ordered the Warm Fig Tart with Vietnamese Cinnamon Crème Fraîche Ice Cream and Fig Jam. Wow! That's all I can say.
Above all, Daniel has an old-school feel but a sophistication and glamor that will surely have me back for seconds.
In addition, our dinner was paired with selections by the house of wines. One wine in particular has caught my fancy, a Vouvray from Domaine de la Haute Borne Tendre 2002, which was a symphony to the palate. I have liked it so much that this morning, while searching for that fabulous wine, I came upon and have subsequently become a member of WineFetch.com, a fabulous site to track your wines with internet merchants, notes about your experiences with particular wines and also a wineblog, how cool is that? I also have placed an order for my Vouvray and hope to be sipping it calmly at home shortly in the company of good friends.
As for the German, he went home on Sunday and e-mailed me upon arrival to say he had made it home safely. It is certainly a shame that two nice people who may be attracted to each other must succumb to the realities of distance. He will, however, be back in two weeks and I hope we will have the opportunity to share another evening like Saturday's. Any recommendations out there?
A.B.
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