It is always a delight to reunite with our friend Rob, visiting from Washington, with whom I suffered through a long study abroad year in Salzburg, Austria, viele Jahren vor. Rob is fun and hilarious, in multiple languages (though I only understand him in two or so....I cannot pretend to still remember more than a few words of Italian).
I believe that if you scroll down this blog far enough, you will come to the source of my choosing David Burke Kitchen, in lower SoHo, as our meeting place. I think that someone from Daily Candy recommended it, and the Yelp/Google reviews I looked up were uncharacteristically positive (it seems like people usually turn to Yelp when they want to unleash some hell).
We were very happy with the experience. The place did not fill up on this Saturday at lunch, so we were probably there about 2.5 hours, with no sense of being rushed. We were presented with popovers with marmalade, jam, and/or butter upon arrival, and then we ordered an appetizer of skewers with bacon and peanut butter and some sort of cherries or something? Whatever, it was quite tasty. I had stuffed french toast that was neither dry, nor what you might think of as gooey - it was somehow a perfectly moist yet light consistency. Pat had scrambled eggs with lobster that came in an impressive, eye-opening presentation, inside half an ostrich egg atop a bed of salt, with two lobster antennae sticking up. Rob, insisting all the while that he is not cheap, ordered a yogurt and granola mix with honeycomb on top.
It being Restaurant "Week," which seems to last for months nowadays, Pat added a dessert to his order that we all shared. We got carrot cake with coconut ice cream. The cake was crumbly and interesting, not overly sweet, with pistachios mixed in, and a decadent yet untraditional frosting. It paired beautifully with the ice cream.
Just to reiterate, Rob is *NOT* a cheapskate.
The artwork in the men's room was racy in a vegetal sort of way, prompting a stir among us. It was four close-up photos of a tomato with a protrusion appearing to be on the verge of penetrating another tomato. You don't really see tomatoes depicted pornographically very often. Or ever. It was salacious enough that I was secreted into the men's room to view it with my own eyes, which will be forever burned with the images.
Rob would like it to be known that he generously paid a third of the bill even though he ate practically the cheapest item on the menu.
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