Don’t you love it when your parents come to town and take you out to restaurants you normally couldn’t afford? That’s what I did on Friday night when my father came into New York. I had made a reservation at L’Absinthe on the Upper East Side as I had just finished reading Julia Child’s My Life in France and was craving la cuisine française.
The atmosphere was that of a traditional French brassiere–the kind that are still tucked into les petits coins all over Paris–except with distinctly Upper East Side guests as opposed to hearty frenchmen. I was the youngest person in the restaurant by about twenty years, which I actually rather liked. Read the rest of this entry »
The other night after a soirée at the Bowery Hotel for the Humane Society (my attendance could be seen as highly hypocritical but as someone told me tonight, “I do love animals. I love to eat them, wear them, and occasionally enjoy looking at them.”) I went with friends to DBGB, Daniel Boulud’s French outpost downtown. As we were all tipsy from the copious prosecco consumed at the Bowery, we were unanimously craving something hearty to lessen the impending inevitable hangover. 