February 23, 2009

Anti-frou frou

I'm going out to dinner Wednesday evening and am in the process of participating in the restaurant selection. We were discussing places like Beretta and Nopa. I'm sure these places are lovely and delicious and I would be very, very happy if I dined in them. But there's something about the way I'm feeling today that makes fussy phrases like "hand chosen lettuces" and "chestnut mousse" irritate the living hell out of me rub me the wrong way.

Right now a pizza out of a box and a 40 in a paper bag is sounding more my speed.

So! I had an epiphany. I read the drinks menus and skipped the food parts. If they want to bathe their cows in hibiscus water and blow gentle kisses at them, that is fine with me--I just don't want to hear about it. The point I am so slowly making: Nopa's drinks won me over. Three kinds of sangria. Enough said.

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