A crappy dinner at a Spanish restaurant in Midtown, its only saving grace the fact that it was within walking distance of the hotel. We were tired of paying $$$ for a single martini and a midget bite of food, so we tried something else and, although the price tag was lower, the quality was equally low. We've been twice to Union Square Cafe, which is superb and in the realm of what one would want to shell out for great food on an artist's budget, but it's a subway ride away which equals added effort.
I like to cook, and I won't be shy in saying I'm a damn fine cook. It does get to be a curse, though, when eating out. I do get tired of deconstructing every bite of food I eat in a restaurant but the obsessive part of me insists on doing it every single time. It can't be helped. On the other hand, I abhor food snobs. Food needn't be complicated, or pretentious. It just should be mindfully prepared, and prepared with respect for not only the ingredients but respect for whomever shall consume it.
I can make a feast from whatever happens to be in my larder at any given time (often slim pickins), and when a restaurant, with its (hopefully) well-planned-out menu can't deliver even a basic decent meal, then all is wrong with the world.
Well, with my world, at least.
Does it show that I'm ready to be back in my own kitchen?!
(I should mention that I had an absolutely perfect bagel with scallion cream cheese and Irish smoked salmon today for lunch. Ate every bite sitting on a bench in the cold winter noontime. Wanted more.)