[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid: July 13, 2015]
My attention was characteristically divided in early July 2005. Between the Modigliani movie with Andy Garica and a DVD of Dig!--the Brian Jonestown Massacre epic, loaned to me by Marwood's lead singer Benji Rogers. Between Marwood at the Bowery Ballroom and a new fascination with Strindberg as a novelist rather than playwright. Between summer fast food and classic French bistro.
But I should tell you about the food.
First, a return to Cyril Renaud's excellent Flatiron boîte, Fleur de Sel. A Napoleon of sardine rillettes to start. Snails with a herb sauce--which I do recall was deeply green and horribly bitter. Then loin of venison with a classic gratin dauphinoise. The Domaine de Monpertuis "Tradition" 2001 with the venison.
Later that week, the new Upper East Side bistro from pastry master Francois Payard. It had a run of about five years, and I enjoyed my first meal there:
Stuffed zucchini blossoms
Rabbit loin stuffed with tarragon, braised leg, ramps, mushroom jus, gnocchi
Warm chocolate soufflé
Macarons
You really had to finish with macarons.
The summer casual eating came with my first trip to City Island, that curiously isolated little community on a narrow strip of land in Long Island sound. This became a regular summer day-trip for me, eating fried fish at the island's lower tip, then wandering back along the main road. It's like a small town dropped into the water.
There are many Italian restaurants on the island, and a bunch of fish places clustered together near Belden Point. Johnny's Famous Reef is the destination, a vast seafood shack with separate lines at multiple counters for oysters and clams, fried seafood, seafood pastas, drinks, desserts, and so on. It's stuck in 1950, but filled with cheerful family parties gorging on trays of fried fish at very low cost.
We waded into the soft-shell crabs, along with fried clams, filets of sole, and a stack of fries. Best dessert option back then was a stroll to Lickety Split for home-made ice cream. That's closed now, but Johnny's sails indomitably on.
At home, I was drinking Burgundy with magret de canard in a cherry sauce. And I didn't even get around to telling you about the magnificant show of Matisse's textiles at the Met.
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