I was lucky enough to snag a seat at the hallowed (and reservation
demented) Momofuku Ko in New York in early October because someone had
(oh my god!) cancelled and I was quick enough to grab the reservation.
For those of you not yet in the know, Ko is the premier flagship in
wunderkind David Chang’s gastronomic empire. In keeping with its
cutting edge food and service (the chefs, like sushi chefs, do the
serving but not the busing), Ko only allows you to make on-line
reservations. Just like Amazon.com, you need to open an on-line account
(something I had done about six months earlier) which allows you the
opportunity, and some would argue esteemed privilege, to make a
reservation. This system guarantees a degree of egalitarianism which,
as an attorney with a career dedicated to civil liberties, I really
should respect and appreciate. So even if your last name is DeNiro or
Gates, you (or your assistant) still have to compete with the masses in
making a mad digital dash to score a reservation. As a supreme
testament to Ko’s popularity and scrumptiousness, over the last year,
even as the echo of high-end restaurants slamming their doors shut
reverberated throughout Manhattan, Ko rarely had a night when it wasn’t
booked to capacity for at least a week in advance.
New York
New York
Little Rascal
We went to the Lower East Side the other night to see what the young people are up to. Our son, Max, was playing a gig at the Bowery Ballroom with a great band called dinowalrus. They totally killed — awesome. Jill and I were the oldest people in the neighborhood by at least thirty years.
We didn’t make reservations for dinner before the show because we always assume we can get ourselves fed when it’s just the two of us — often at the bar. I did have a destination in mind, though — Xicala, a tapas/wine bar that looked online to be properly LES. It was raining, so we scurried from the Grand Street subway across Bowery to Elizabeth Street, where Xicala promised to be and it was closed. Locked shut. I later checked their website, which says they’re “undergoing a makeover.” Good luck, Xicala. See you next time.
We were now wandering aimlessly in the rain, looking to grab a quick bite before the show. It was definitely an any-port-in-a- storm situation. We saw little orange lights coming out of a dark front window and crossed Elizabeth Street to see what was up and it was a restaurant called Little Rascal that serves Turkish food. Yeah — Little Rascal — Turkish. It made no sense to me, either. But our interest was definitely piqued — and our appetites as we’re both partial to Turkish food.
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