We had spent the day first at the ritzy hair salon where the wife had another haircut for the cruise. Which starts this Saturday so we had to start to get ready. After that we went to the fabric store to source out some new fabrics for our cowl neck shirt. We have to make 200 pieces so we wanted a lot of variety. The owners are a couple who work together like us so we sort of see eye to eye. At least that's what we thought. Then there was a blip in all the agreement for a moment.
We saw this nice roll of fabric so we give it to the Mexican girl to put in the back for us. Then we keep shopping but when we turn around we see them cutting off a piece for some bitch who wanted two yards. What the fuck? We are spending thousands and they give our shit to someone else. We were about to walk out right then. The owner came over to apologies and plea bargains and bullshits us that the lady had come early in the morning and had come back for that fabric. So why the fuck was it behind a bunch of rolls of fabric Mrs. Fucking Apu. She saw we were pissed and started giving us a better price on some of the fabric so we pretended we were mollified. (You call that the Hymietown switcheroo, ask ricipic about it). We even took a smiley blurry photo for their website.
So we had to find a way to salvage the day and the best way to do it was to return to our favorite midtown restaurant Incognito.
We get there and get to seats at the bar. We have been enjoying sitting at the bar lately. There is more of a breeze and here the breeze comes off the street as all the doors are open in the front. Restaurant guys are cheap with the air conditioning when it is not boiling hot. So the summer wind comes blowing in across the bar. It lingers there to touch you hair and well you know the rest.
Of course the owner Paolo runs over to say hello. I ask him if he is still trying to kill Superman and he still has no idea what the fuck I am talking about. He is on top of everything in his joint even though he does a lot of stuff that I don't agree with. For instance being that we come a couple of times a month he might buy us a drink. Not a meal. Not a bottle of wine. Just a drink. But he doesn't and that won't stop us from going there. I mean we really go there for the food and hoping that it will stay consistent. Anyway he comes up to chat now and again as he is seating people and running around like a crazy man.
We order our food and we get the same appetizers that we got at "Old School" to check out the differences. Meatballs and a goat cheese crostini as an appetizer. The meatballs were A-Rod size...very small and shrunken. The crostini was small as well. Now don't get me wrong. They were tasty but just too small for a man of my accomplishments as a trencherman.
For a main course, the wife ordered a Filet Mignon with béarnaise sauce with brussel sprouts on the side. I ordered a thin crust pizza with fennel, tomato and mushrooms. We are sitting there eating and the owner goes behind the bar and comes up to talk to us. And then we had a problem.
Chef comments on the filet mignon which he was right to talk about because it was perfect. Medium rare just the way the wife likes it with a wonderful béarnaise sauce. But then he starts in on my pizza. "Look at this pizza! Look at how great the crust is?" He picks up a piece off my plate and folds it like he is going to eat it. Lisa goes "Hey why don't you eat it. Seriously it's delicious." "No that's alright" the chef said. "I am going to eat later. Enjoy." Then he puts the piece down and walks away.
Now in the time we were there I saw him shake hands with about thirty people. He came over to the bar to get napkins to blow his nose twice. And then he had about four cigarettes standing outside texting on his phone. You know what I didn't see. Chef wash his hands.
So at the end of the night there was one sad piece of pizza left. With nowhere to go. Sometimes knowing the owner just doesn't work out for you.
I think I am going to start calling him Artie Bucco.
27 comments:
Why not eat it? He had those same hands all over it cooking it for you in the first place. And he probably hawked a good one into the goat cheese, you'd never know.
He didn't cook it. It was some Mexican who cooked it. The problem is he did it right in front of my face. What happens where I can't see it doesn't bother me. That's why you can shake hands with Spinelli. I mean who knows how many times he wacks it in a day. Just sayn'
The vegetable next to that incredible filet mignon looks like spinach to these eyes, not brussel sprouts.
In the photo that you placed at the top and bottom of this entry there's a woman in the upper left hand corner who is doing something unbecoming. Instead of sitting up straight or nearly straight and picking up her drink she's practically down at bar level sipping from it. Or maybe I'm wrong (lousy typical TY blurry photo) maybe she's leaning way forward for no particular reason. Anyway, it kills the illusion of femininity. Okay, I'm not going to make a speech, just to say that women have bought into a total crap bill of goods sold by feminists about being authentic and in the process they've lost their greatest advantage or weapon -- the illusion that they're not as gross as men. Hey gals, the lie is better than the truth. For us. For you. For everybody. Okay, I made a speech.
Ah. Out of sight out of mind. I'm the opposite, I worry more about what they're doing in the kitchen I can't see.
Watched too many Kitchen Nightmare re-runs I guess.
I make trenchers.
The Artie Bucco comment is spot on. I would get uncomfortable w/ his overbearing schmoozing. Tony got his mind right.
Trooper, I'm 60 years old. You count my whacks by the month, not the day. But, I am a compulsive nut scratcher.
When you own your own biz it's always stressful before and after vacations. It got so I hated vacations, and that ain't right.
Restaurant guys are cheap with the air conditioning...
We cut the lights at 10:00. Sharp. Then I always tell everyone left in the dining room to take their time and that we're just shutting the lights off so we don't attract more people. I tell them we have plenty to keep us busy, so they're not bothering us at all.
Then I go cut the A/C or heat off, depending on the season. Yeah, stay as long as you like.
Dammit. Now I'm hungry.
Troopski's favorite pizza place.
So the summer wind comes blowing in across the bar. It lingers there to touch you hair and well you know the rest.
I do in fact know the rest.
And guess who sighs for pizza pies untouched by dorks?
My pickled friends, the TrooperYorks.
Everyone knows the tongs joke, right?
I know a Lee Chee Tong who's kind of funny...is that what you mean?
Guy goes into an Italian restaurant. The cook comes out of the kitchen to serve the spaghetti. He's making a big deal out of picking the noodles up with the tongs and serving everyone with much flair. All the whiles, the cook's bragging about how clean a restaurant he runs. Nothing touches the food. Everyone wears gloves, washes their hands, the whole nine yards.
Meanwhile, the customer notices a string hanging out of the guy's trousers, so he pulls him aside to tell him something's amiss. The cook, loud and flamboyant as ever, brags that his place is so clean, when he goes to take a leak, he doesn't touch himself. He pulls his dick out with the string. People are snickering at him, but he goes on flinging spaghetti noodles.
The customer thinks a second and then asks him how he gets his dick back in after he's done. The cook bellows, "This here is a clean joint. I don't touch nothing with my hands. I use these tongs here."
(If that doesn't take you back to sixth grade, nothing will.)
Tongs for the memories...
I just watched the HBO doc on Marty Glickman. A must see for all Knicks or Giants fan.
the photo that you placed at the top and bottom of this entry there's a woman in the upper left hand corner who is doing something unbecoming. Instead of sitting up straight or nearly straight and picking up her drink she's practically down at bar level sipping from it.
Thank you. I'm forever nagging my 12 year old to sit up straight and get her face out of her plate, and that's one of my biggest pet peeves in others. It looks so classless to be bending over the food or drink shoveling it in like a hog at a food trough. I gently mentioned the habit to a young niece trying to get her first job in a very professional field and she and her mother were both offended. They apparently had never considered that no one is going to trust a financial adviser who doesn't know how to conduct herself at a business lunch like someone with some breeding.
That is a deal breaker. You never touch someone's food. Kids do that and get punished for it.
And you are right, he did not have his hands on it in the kitchen, the Mexicans did. But it is seeing the touching that makes it worse.
As far as touching goes....no means no.
Something Bill Clinton and the Chef at Incognito could never figure out.
I tell my kids that eating out on a date or business or serious social occasion is NOT about feeding. Don't go hungry. Manners are all designed to slow down the consumption of food and make it less grody to be around.
Is there a way to allow him to see this post and see if he ever makes it right for you?
Then again, Lex Luther might be a real douchebag and scratch his ass next time he sees you come in.
In the Two Days Before Cruisin' Chaos Cafe, the fingered fabric served as the appetizer, the folded pie the main event. As the hours count down and the chaos of prep work continues, take care of yourselves.
And whatever you do, don't miss the boat! The blurry photo stash is getting low.
This Eliza Doolittle Send Off Song is dedicated to Lisa and Trooper York. Though it's set to start here at the :43 mark where TY enters the scene to do his thing, it's fun to watch from the beginning to end, with the first suitcase toss to the last capturing the essence of travel along with best wishes for a good and relaxing vacay.
You gotta
Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag
And bury them beneath the sea
If you can't touch in a strip club, you should definitely not be touching in a restaurant!
What MamaM said: be sure to take pictures.
We'll be expecting some beefcake shots.
Have a wonderful time! :)
You might want to rein in your hopes on that score, yashu.
You might want to rein in your hopes on that score, yashu.
I just need to have my bourbon goggles on.
C'mon, tell me I'm not the only one laughing at visions of Trooper sitting among the bolts and piles, counting change and banging his broken radio while he and Lisa attempt to close up shop and fling the valise!
Perfect Song, MamaM! What a find!!!
Yes, Yes, I've been singing it today and smiling, which in my recently revised world view constitutes a form of prayer for the blessing of a safe, fun, relaxing and refreshing time together away from the other Valise.
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