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 »
