belated bday celebrations

to make up for missing dandy's bday party last weekend, i offered to cook a nice dinner for dandy and his beau, and the boy. for once, the menu and meal came together with relative ease- mussels in a saffron cream sauce, and grilled panchetta wraped asparagus. timing is always difficult with dinner parties and i always find myself struggling to make sure everything is prepared properly, that all the guests are having a good time, and have a tough time actually getting to relax, eat and drink myself.


after a leisurely dinner and gift exchange, the four of us headed out to williamsburg to drop off gifts and grab a couple of drinks. we ended up at trophy, a newish bar which unlike it's name suggests was not flashy or a scene. instead, it was instantly likeable and radiated that familiar feel that made you want to become a regular. i sided up to the bar to check out their drink selection and asked the bartender for some bourbon recommendations. she motioned to the woman sitting next to me, "you should ask her for a recommendation. she knows a lot more about bourbon."


so that began a 30 minute conversation with what turned out to be the bar owner- a personable, young woman with a passion for tequila and learned appreciation for bourbon. while nursing her recommended glass of michters (possibly the smoothess bourbon i've ever tasted), she told me about how she had worked for years in another bar before opening her own place,

the boy eventually found me and drew me back into the birthday celebration. we headed to another spot where dandy could get his groove on..midway through first rounds, we all started to fade quickly, reminding me once again of the fact that we're all getting older and can't stay out the way we once could. . . happy b-day?

the meeting

one of the components of my training program was being sectioned off into groups to compete in a group project. we were all assigned rhe same task and asked to come up with a business proposal and present it among an audience of our mentors, coaches. HR, and other related persons. the prize was the opportunity to present our ideas to the CEO and a free lunch (who says there is no such thing as a free lunch?).

my team won. the perks- the opportunity to make a good impression on the CEO. the downside balancing a persistent and nagging obligation to do an amazing job while learning to do our new jobs and get up to speed as soon as possible.

and and just like that *snap* it was over. the meeting was casual. we talked through our slides and he raised good questions. was actually quite fascinating hearing his thought process in terms of solving business problems.. . working in any particular industry for any period of time hinders one's ability to see things clearly. . . the more accustomed one is to analyzing business in a specific way, the more difficult it becomes to recognize obvious weakenesses and opportunites, and therefore solutions. a good lesson in staying grounded.

dress shopping

saturday morning, i find myself in the garment district of los angeles with VK et all. it's blazing hot and i am initially overwhelmed by the sheer number of shops and dresses, taking in the wide assortment of dresses- long, tea length, short, skankyshort, slinky, lacy, sheer with cutouts (oh my!) and so on.


each shop was a madhouse of 15 year olds with mothers and aunties in tow and clearly on a mission to find the prefect gown for their quinceanera and 17 year olds with full entourage on standby to pass judgement and snatch up potential prom dresses.

it was a shopping experience like no other and i applaud the patience of VK's bridesmaids as they dutifully tried on dress after dress in cramped quarters and makeshift dressing rooms (i.e. all of us blocking view of one of the gals by holding up dresses in front of her).

trouble hit at store x. while there were many gaudy dresses, there were a fair share of nice dresses. a cute number hanging from the high racks caught my eye and i tried to get the attention of one of the sales women. when that failed, i spyed one of the poles used to retrieve out of reach merchandise. i motioned to grab the pole but the sales woman quickly beat me to it and threw a withering glare my way. i shrugged innocently and pointed to the dress of interest but only got her dismissal in reply. strike one.

we all went back to dress hunting and found several dresses to try on. while missE gamely tried on the dresses, i found an adorable dress and seeing the long line for the dressing room, slipped it over my head to gauge the fit. evidently that was strike two as the sales woman began screaming at me for trying something on outside a dressing room.

missE modelled the dresses which he had selected. VK loved one of them. when we made inquiries about the prices, we were gruffly told that they only had a couple left and they would not order any more. there was no attempt to offer further assistance or help us locate the dress. when VK attempted to find the style number to locate the dress, the sales woman snatched the dress back- adding that VK was not allowed to look at the dress anymore. one of the bridesmaids went to find the owner, who also managed an adjoining dress shop about the dress. he deferred to the associate. strike 3.

we were completely deflated by the saleswoman's nasty attitude and left the garment distict shortly thereafter. we refueled and cooled down at a korean run sushi joint downtown that was playing every single janet jackson video known to man on large flat screened tv's. while we did not get a dress in the end, at the very least, we have a much better idea of what type of bridesmaid dress the bride likes and what would be flattering on a range of body types. . . and knowing is half the battle, right?

westward bound

my bag is packed- armed with comfy travel clothes, the makings of shower favors, tea, and decorations. . .on one hand, it feels like a lifetime ago that i was in grad school but my time in ny has simply flownby. . .

this evening, as i packed, i becan to recall the good times that i had nearly forgotten- buried under the misery of graduate school. going to pauley pavillion to watch the bruins play. taking a daily coffee break and short walk with taz when we would vent about work or life or relationships. catching a film premiere with eddie. going for a long run down san vicente and along the beach. zipping in and out of trader joes (ny really needs to open more) and checking out the fresh produce (with plenty of free samples) at the farmer's market in westwood.

i can hardly believe that it has been three years since i have visited the city of angels. and i'm both excited and anxious to see my former home. in just a few short hours, i'll be trying on bridesmaids dresses and celebrating Vk's upcoming wedding. playing wing-girl to keting2. eating lunch at my ngoc in san gabriel which has the best hu tieu (sorry momma V). taking a long walk along venice beach with eulalie. . .

overload

the past couple days have been a blur of meetings- discussing new launches with our vendors, buying team meetings to discuss fall strategies and new business initiatives, marketing and advertising, and preparation for my group presentation in a couple weeks. i find myself bombarded with so much information and frequent schedule changes that i have been struggling to keep track of everything and increasingly relying on my planner.

this has managing to spill over into my personal life- where i’m finding myself double booked or simply confusing dates.

ring ring.

V: hey VK.

VK: hey, what’s up?

V: oh nothing. i am just trying to make plans with my group to meet next week. when did we say that we were going to the tailor?

VK: we didn’t. we just said at the beginning of this week.

V: oh really? whew! what a relief. i could have sworn we said tuesday but i couldn’t remember. . . .ok. . so would wednesday work for you?

VK: in a reassuring voice aw, that’s ok. . if i don’t write it down, i forget too. (translation: that's sad, V's losing it. . . poor thing) sure let’s go on wednesday.

a day in suburbia

a quick one hour flight landed me back home in VA by 10AM saturday morning. i was greeted by mom, sister, and tj and wes who begged me to sit between their carseats in the rear of the car. they had both grown a few inches since the last time i'd seen them. on the way to starbucks to caffeinate me, wes pointed out his new basketball shoes and played with my bracelets (elephant! forest!) while tj told me she preferred my longer hair to my short hair but liked my necklace (it looks like a chocholate heart!).

after coffee, we stopped by trader joes where we all stocked up on snacks. while i purused the wine section and filled my basket with assorted jerkey, luna bars, and fish oil- wes took turns patting my belly, telling me he was going to eat me up, and latching onto my right leg. funny kid.

next was sam's club- otherwise known as the senior citizen's buffet-a sampling heaven for my niece. hot pockets, salad, pork roast, deli wheels, buffalo wings, yogurt- you name it, they had it. my mom bought some beef to go with the bun bo hue that she had made for my dad who was actually home sick. we dropped my mom off home, then my sister, the kiddies and i went to chck-fil-a for lunch and to pick up a party platter for the gymanstics birthday party at 2:30PM.

by 3PM, i was surrounded by a gaggle of 3-6 year old kids running around, jumping in a pit of foam, swinging from ropes, and working themselves into a frenzy. i tried to make conversation with the anxious mothers who kept an eye and intermittenly yelled warnings to their respective children. after an hour of carefree playing, the kids were gathered to the party area to feast on fruit, pretzels, chicken nuggets, doritos, nilla wafers, and cake. the mothers all discussed the point values of the different foods (apparently they had agreed to start jenny craig together) and deliberated about partaking. . . in that moment, amongst the random kid meltdowns and momspeak, i felt entirely out of my element.

a little snip

VK: i got my wedding dress yesterday. disappointing. it looks so plain and cheap. i'll have to find ways to dress it up.

V: you're crazy. . the dress is beautiful and probably just needs to be pressed. you are not a fancy type, it looks amazing on you. . i don't think that type of dress ever looked fabulous on the hanger- it has to be on. and yes, we'll dress it up.

VK: maybe it'll look better after alterations. actually, it looked great on the hanger. it just looked terrible on me.

needless to say, there were high stakes tied to picking the right tailor who could transform VK's dress back into the vision it was when she first tried it on. after doing extensive research, VK narrowed the search of tailors down to two. to lend moral support and calm the poor bride's nerves, i went with VK to check out the tailors and in the end, we decided to go with Imparali custom tailors.

thursday night, we both met up after work- VK had wedding dress stashed in her bookbag and i brought a bag with a couple of my things i've been meaning to alter. we got inside and i lent VK my shoes to try on with her dress. the seamstress eyed the dress carefully and proceeded to pull the extra material tight behind VK's back and pin it with clips. VK asked for a price quote for the work needed and there was some discussion on what needed to be done. once we agreed that the dress needed a simple hem and the sides taken in, the seamstress continued to inspect the two layers of the garment. she pulled out a pair of scissors from her work table and the color drained from VK's face and her eyes began to widen with horror and alarm.

before anyone could utter a word. . . snip. snip. . . the seamstress cut the thread that joined the gown lining from the gown. she then explained while she continued to. . . snip snip. . . that she would use the lining as a guide to hem the dress itself. while she cut away at the lining, the look of fear never left VK's face.

V: don't worry VK. even if she messes up, you would never see it. it's standard procedure. (not that i know. .but the method seemed reasonable. . and VK might cry if i acted like it was anything but)

VK: (looking uncertain) urm. . .

V: (laughing out loud- ok, now i'll have to resort to distraction) don't look so scared. it's going to be fine. the dress is going to be beautiful after it's altered. i think you were totally overreacting before. once it actually fits you, it's going to be gorgeous!

VK: (sounding a bit more optomistic) really? you think so?

V: definately!!

as the seamstress finished up with the fitting, we talked about how to bustle the dress and needing to look for a veil. we left a short while later with an appointment for a follow up fitting and headed to campbell's apartment for a drink. . . optomistic and excited about the alterations.

champagne tastes and beer budgets

this afternoon, bigEm and i decided to do some comp shopping. it's funny how working in retail changes the way you look at a store- even when i am "just shopping" i find myself noticing the little and big things.

how long does it take before a sales associate acknowledges me? greets me? offers help?
how impactful is the visual display and merchandising?

is there cross merchandising?

what type of story are they trying to tell?

and so on.

even more, i find myself becomingly increasingly jaded and underwhelmed by various shopping experiences. until that is, on this particular outing where we happend to stop in barney's where i was given a sneak peak into the world of JAR in a little alcove hidden behind the women's fragrances, a personable but polished dealer begins to weave his story about JAR, a reclusive artist who creates unimaginably complex, decadent, and stunning pieces of jewelry. only a small number of each creation is produces, lending to a product that invariably increases in value over time.

like children in a candy store, my boss and i tried on some of the "lower end" earrings, beautiful roses petals, gold painted over aluminum. stunning pieces that were both bold and refined, i instantly fell in love with them and vowed to purchase a pair whenever i "make it". . . sigh, to be born with champagne tastes and living on a beer budget. . . a girl can dream, can't she?

boy movie and chinese lessons

my first official week at work has flown by. however, early mornings (since i'm still not sure how long it takes me to do everything and wanting to make a good impression-i'd been making a point to go to work between 8:20 and 8:40), seemingly long hours (because it's taking me forever to do everything since i still don't know what i'm doing), and busy evenings catching up with old friends, had managed to wear me out by the end of the week.

friday morning, as i schlepped out to the bus stop in my black and white skull rainboots while doing my best to stay dry, my evening plans to go out suddenly seemed less appealing. . . my mood turned after a leisurely lunch with my work friends and walking back to the office and seeing the sky clear up. around 6, i grabbed my bag and headed down to the angelika. the film was paranoid park, a coming-of-age film focusing on a teenage boy who witnesses a tragic death. the details of the event are slowly unveiled as the boy journals about the death. paranoid park is a skating park that the boy frequents- not really to skate- but because there his problems feel trivial compared to the imagined problems the other skateboarders face. the slow pace of the movie and my overall lethargy, required a conscientious effort to stay focused. britcabbie must have noticed because he apologized for suggesting a "boy movie". altogether, i did enjoy the movie and found it impactful and thought provoking.



afterwards, we met up with some of britcabbie's work friends at the guggenheim's first friday. while i would have happily gone without the $25 cover (outrageous) and clubby music, i was ecstatic to finally see the cai guo qiang exhibit. the works were mostly large scale installments. i enjoyed the one with a pack of wolves the most. . . i don't know if his work is particularly unique but i find the lessons he so earnestly tries to impart- e.g. following the pack can lead to your downfall- endearing and sincere.

needing a fix

coffee is good.

i started young. . . fond memories of my grandmother mixing up taster's choice instant coffee, stirring in heaping portions of creamer and sugar, and pouring it into a tall heavy glass. my brother and i each got our own glasses. rich and sweet- my grandmother's coffee was dessert like and i was hooked.

in high school, my parents would buy big tins of foldgers or maxwells from costco. then i met yoswa who introduced me to my first cappuchino at a local italian restaurant- this was during a time before starbucks had infilatrated all the suburbs. in college, i went through a flavored coffee phase- vanilla, cinnamon, hazelnut, you name it, i loved it. with splenda and creamer. several mugs of coffee a day kept me going on 4 hours of sleep and maintaining a frantic schedule of extracurricular activities, social outings with friends, and heavy school loads.

trips to italy and france refined my tastebuds and i learned to appreciate a well made espresso or a simple cafe creme. a nice weekend morning involved breaking fast and sharing pressed coffee. when i moved to new york, i switched from a drip coffee maker to a stove top bialetti which makes a fine cup of coffee with a bit of crema.

over the years, i've cut my intake dramatically (not counting a surge during grad school) and have a couple cups in the morning. my morning coffee is one of the things i look forward to in the mornings. there's nothing like the feeling of slowing become more alert, more me, as the caffeine starts to work it's magic.

this morning, i arose well rested a little before 7AM. i shuffled over to my little cuisinart coffee maker and began to prepare my coffee. there was about a scoop and a half of coffee grains left in the bag. i mentally praised myself for thinking to buy a new bag of french roast coffee last weekend. i pull out the second bag and open it up to find. unground grains. and no coffee grinder. damn.

just rewards?

this was it. 8 weeks of training. the last two weeks have been a whirlwind of meeting with my team- scrambling to meet with various players in the company, brainstorming and developing a concept only to be redirected and start from scratch, obsessing over numbers and powerpoint presentations. it was finally time to deliver our business strategy to a panel of judges and an audience comprised of my training group peers, mentors, coaches and etc.

my group, group 3, was last to present. towards the end of the group 2's presentation, i could feel my cheeks starting to warm up, my throat was dry, and nervous energy spread throughout my body. i breathed deep, reminded myself that i had spent hours preparing and that i had memorized everything i wanted to say. sitting through the first two presentations was difficult, i was able to see the flaws in our analysis and foresaw the points that the judges would take issue with. the positive was that my group's approached the project from a completely different angle.

i was able to overcome my initial wave of nervousness and deliver my portion while minimally referring to my notes. the rest of my group fared well and the audience responded well. after a Q&A all the groups were excused from the rooms while the panel of judges deliberated with the audience to determine which group won.

in the end, my group won because our business plan and presentation entertained and intrigued. the prize was a free group lunch and the opportunity to present our plan to the CEO and President in two weeks time. the down side is that we will need to spend the next two weeks working overtime to improve and polish the project, taking time away from acclimating to our new positions, and stressing over giving another presentantion. the positive is a rare chance to make a good impression on the company's higher ups.

that evening, as i had shared celebratory drinks and appetizers with my training class at brother jimmy's, i reflected on the past 2 months. i realized how excited i was to finally begin this new phase in my career- my new boss is amazing, my job will be challenging, and i've met some quality people along the way.

best friends at work

according to gallop surveys, having a best friend at work contributes to one's overall job satisfaction. i was fortunate at my last job, to develop two such friendships- first with lori and then with ms mess. both are older, strong-willed, and independent women with children and diverse work histories. perhaps it is their wealth of wisdom and life experience that has naturally led each of them to adopt a maternal or sororal roles with me. as i settle into my new work environment with a younger peer group, i find myself feeling a little out of place, slightly anxious, and longing for the company of lori and ms mess.

i was therefore ecstatic when ms mess agreed to drive out to manhattan to dine with me easter night. over a glass of red wine, crusty italian bread, and an enormous meatball called meatloaf, we caught up on work gossip, relationships, and various life changes. as she does very well, ms mess beautifully put my insecurities and concerns in perspective. she reminded me of my own rule- that i aim to live by but had started to falter on- that is, the importance of being true to oneself and to live life on one's own terms and timeline. it was during that moment, that i felt especially fortunate to have friends that can dish it out, tell me when i'm being ridiculous, and laugh at my idiosyncrasies.

btw, the food was what comfort food should be- simple, tasty, and substantial- though, it's a toss up whehter frank really beats max's.

why this weekend rocked

-getting to be entirely self indulgent friday night ordering in food and watching the first four episodes of the tudors

-hearing my niece tell me that she loved her easter basket so much and could we get her more chocolate lollipops the next time she visits nyc?

-brunching and gossiping with the girls at alias in the LES

-UCLA Bruins rallying in the final seconds and beating texas AM

-satisfying my curiosity about the dramshop (parkslope) and oulu (williamsburg) and never needing to go there again (further description hopefully to follow)

-getting my first climbing lesson and exciting about learning the ropes

-the boy hooked the tellie up with some gadget so DVD viewing can commence on the tv rather than laptop and promptly watching "no country for old men"

-catching up with ms.mess over dinner at franks on east 5th st and 2nd ave

being a proper grown up

sunday morning i threw in a bunch of dirty laundry into my trusty washer/dryer unit only to watch in horror as water slowly but surely spilled out onto the kitchen floor. i grabbed some towels and spread them onto the ground to soak up the water, but the water kept on flowing. i turned off the machine and cleaned up the mess. once everything dried out, i pulled open the wooden board that covers the bottom of the machine. the way it's positioned, it's difficult to see much of anything.

i'm still hoping to catch one of the maintenance guys on my way to work to ask them to take a look at it. . . figure out if i need to pony up the monies for a new unit or if it's salvageable. . .in the meantime, i'm resorting to using a nearby laundry service, researching washing machines online, and praying that my tax returns will cover the expense.

i remember when my tax returns would go straight to buying new clothes or something frivolous.

at times like these, i feel all growed up.

the difficulty of being #1

"Market Table's burger comes with gorgonzola cheese, bacon, and caramelized onions, which are the holy trinity of burger toppings, as far as I'm concerned. The house-made roll has just a little bit of crunch on the outside, and it may be the best hamburger bun in New York at the moment."- Ed Levine

"At lunchtime the dining room is bright and airy, and the lunch-only burger ($12), a contender for New York's best,"- Gothamist

"Served at lunch only, the burger ($12) comes with the works-cheddar, caramelized onions, slices of pickle and a heap of golden fries, crunchy and hot, and sprinkled with salt. But the works are mere accessories to the stunning mound of meat that rests between the puffy bun-perfectly cooked to medium rare, and seasoned so well that my mind wandered to the Spotted Pig burger and placed this one next to it in my brain's burger rankings."- Andrea Strong, The Strong Buzz

with all the hype surrounding it, it's no wonder that my trip to market table felt ever so slightly. . . anti-climatic?

i ordered my burger medium and it arrived just as promised- with a slight char on the outside and pink in the center- managing to provide both wonderful texture and flavorful juices. the meat was perfectly seasoned and the chewy, slightly dense bun held it's own against the weight of the substantial patty. all in all, i thought the burger was delicious and satisfying. but i was not transcended or convinced it's the best burger in the city. . . so the search continues.

family rituals

my parents are extremely devoted to their children. they would travel almost any length of time and distance to see them- whether it's my sister in gainesville, my brother in philly, or myself in ny. since my mom refuses to fly- travel is limited to driving, taking a bus, or train. the preferred method is driving.

however, this comes with my dad inevitably getting lost and me glued to googlemap trying to help him navigate the streets.

tonight, i finally figured out what the confusion is. my dad drives in from the west side of manhattan. he hits 12th avenue and sees the water and mistakes it for the east river which i do live close to. however, he knows he's supposed to be in the higher digits and ends up circling the confusing area which is the west village lost amidst "name" streets rather than "number" streets.

right now, they are just a few blocks away. hopefully they get here soon without further mishap. this week has been exhausting and i need a good night's rest or lots of coffee to get me through a full day of activity tomorrow.

a hipster by any other name

"You used to be able to tell the difference between hipsters and homeless people. Now, it's between hipsters and retards. I mean, either that guy in the corner in orange safety pants holding a protest sign and wearing a top hat is mentally disabled or he is the coolest fucking guy you will ever know." -Chuck Klosterman, New York Magazine

he said/she said

rikitintin emailed me the following piece of hilarity. ENJOY!

HER DIARY

Tonight I thought he was acting weird. We had made plans to meetat a bar to have a drink. I was shopping with my friends all day long,so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but hemade no comment.

Conversation wasn't flowing so I suggested that we go somewherequiet so we could talk. He agreed but he kept quiet and absent. I asked him what was wrong; he said nothing. I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said it had nothing to do with me and not to worry.

On the way home I told him that I loved him, he simply smiled and kept driving. I can't explain his behavior; I don't know why he didn't say I love you too. When we got home I felt as if I had lost him, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there and watched T.V. He seemed distant and absent.

Finally, I decided to go to bed. About 10 minutes later he came to bed, and to my surprise he responded to my caress and we made love, but I still felt that he was distracted and his thoughts were somewhere else. He fell asleep - I cried. I don't know what to do. I'm almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.

HIS DIARY
Today the Jets lost, but at least I got laid.

"literally" picked up

saturday night was a frenzy of social outings- much busier than i've been of late. shopping in soho with the boy in the afternoon, dinner with theng and q2, then drinks with celestial at verlaine. after one round, we decided to go to schillers and continued to catch up. after another round, we decided to leave and i planned to make my way to willie-b. celestial was on the fence about heading home, out, or to a friend's so she hopped into my cab with me. i did my best to convince her to come along to no avail.

cabbie: where to?


v: williamsburg, just get off at the first exit off the bridge.


celestial: can we make two stops?


v: c'mon, you should come with me to williamsburg. it's gonna be a lot of fun.


celestial: i duno. i'm really beat.


cabbie: yea, the night is young. you should party. i'll come with you.


v: you don't have to stay out all that late. . . you're gonna have a good time!


cabbie: so where should i take you?



celestial: V, i think you should go ahead adn have a great time. i'm so glad we got to catch up.


v: ok i will, be good-bye!


cabbie: so to williamsburg?


v: yep, n9th and kent. i'll show you how to go.


cabbie: so where are you going? to a party? we should party together!


v: something like that. i'm going to meet up with my boyfriend and some friends for a couple drinks.


cabbie: so where do you live? i can wait around and pick you back up later.


v: no, it's okay. i have a ride.


cabbie: what's your name?


v: V. what's yours.


cabbie: amir


v: nice to meet you. so amir, do you flirt with every female passenger that rides in your cab?


cabbie: no no no. not at all.


v: don't you have a girlfriend or something?


cabbie: yes. but she's not like you. it's not so serious. can i get your number? i can pick you up later or i can come in and get a drink with you. we can hang out.


v: no i don't think so. i told you i have a boyfriend already. i'm not that kind of girl.


cabbie: i didn't say you were that kind of girl. no one is like that.


v: ok, here we are. can i get $11 back?


cabbie: ok. i really don't mind waiting to give you a ride. here i'll park my car and come in.


v: realizing that amir was not goin to give up and that he seemed relatively harmless, i conceded. ok, but my boyfriend is inside you know.


amir muttered "sure sure" as he followed me. my friend was waiting outside to show me where the unmarked door was. we went inside and the boy and his friends were sitting around a back corner table. i made the introductions as we sat down.

cabbie: you weren't joking! your boyfriend is here. i feel weird.

v: of course i wasn't. it's fine, really not a big deal. you might as well have a drink while you are here.

cabbie: um. . no now i feel really weird. i'm sorry. thanks for everything. you all have a good night.

ith that, amir left. . . certainly the first time a cab driver has tried to pick me up and while i was initially annoyed, i had to give the guy a lot of credit for his chops!

prune

feeling ravenous on saturday afternoon, the boy and i decided it would be a good time to test out TONY's list of best burgers.

after making a couple calls to see which restaurants would still be open around 3PM, we setled on prune in the east village. i was excited- prune has been on my mental "to try" list of restaurants for quite some time and i'd only heard positive things about it. so we headed downtown and arrived around 3:15, 15 minutes before their kitchen stopped serving brunch, but luckily with enough time to be guaranteed a table.

prune is a cozy, nook of a restaurant with small tables closely spaced together, an open kitchen in the rear, and a small wooden bar on the east side of the room. the atmosphere carried an unmistakeable european undertone. standing inside, one could just as easily be in a bistro in paris or cafe in florence. apparently, the other guests felt similarly as i heard just as many european accents than american ones.

when we finally sat down, we were given brunch menus and a list of beverages including several variations on bloody mary's, a weakness of mine. i asked the server if we could order off the lunch menu and were politely told no. i was heartily disappointed that my second attempt to test out the TONY list was again thwarted. however, an order of monte crisco and a southwestern style bloody mary provided all the comfort i needed- plus an excuse to return to prune for lunch!

it was only the second ever monte crisco that i have had (i shouldn't even count the horrible excuse for a monte crisco that was essentially an over swiss cheesied french toast concoction that i had at some UES diner at 3AM) and i have no qualms about calling the best in nyc. the sandwich was comprised of three slices of bread layered with ham, turkey, and swiss cheese lightly battered and perfectly fried. the monte crisco was lightly dusted with powdered sugar and served with currant jelly and a side of fried eggs. presentation was beautiful and the elements were perfectly balanced with no one ingredient overwhelming the other.

while savoring our delicious food, the boy and i took note of the little details that make prune distinct- the antique brassy looking pepper mill, the alkaseltzer in a small white bowl sitting on the bar for customers recovering from a late night of carousing, the never ending george michael playlist, the great stemware (where can i find those double old fashioned glasses?). . . i'm looking forward to trying out their lunch and dinner- prune just may have made my top 10 ny restaurant list.