Quietly At Home: Ten Years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine: October 28, 2013]

Back from Toronto, a documented immigrant again, I spent this week ten years ago reading the poetry of the Irish dandy Oliver St John Gogarty, watching the World Series (pesky Marlins), and catching up on sleep.

There was also a bite or two here and there.

For example, after drinks made by the great José at Sardi's, it was off to an old Theater district  standby--sadly long closed--René Pujol. The streets around Restaurant Row have always been home to ersatz French bistros, designed to relieve tourists of money. René Pujol was of the neighborhood, certainly catered to tourists, and boasted a waitstaff of Latinos trying to speak French: but it was much better than the rest.

The room was discreet and comfortable, the food recognizably French. On this occasion, I started with warm slices of garlic sausage served over lentils.  Then canard two ways, roast and confit. Apricot tart to finish. The wine-list had some ambitions too, and the bottle chosen was a 1996 Gevrey Chambertin 1er Cru, "Clos Prieur." Yes, ten years ago, burgundies were still affordable.

The next day, Sunday, a long walk around the East Village--then cooking at home. Etouffée de boeuf à l'ancienne, no less; okay, beef stew. Cheeses. An oldish Rioja, the Viña Cubillo 1990, a Lopez de Heredia crianza equal to many other winery's reserva.

I was into Huneker's Painted Veils, now: the American answer to À Rebours and Dorian Grey, but finished the week in un-dandy style with a cheese burger at The Burger Joint. In the Parker Meridien, yes--that one.