Sunday Brunch in New Haven
You'll find that this post is significantly different from my somewhat leering portrait of lunch at Giovanni's. This is because (1) my wife was there, (2) my wife's friends were there, and (3) in case you didn't get it the first time, my wife was there. My wife has an aversion to my acting like an adolescent, which is unfortunate in view of the fact that this is my usual behavior. For instance, when I throw popcorn in a movie I get a minorly violent slap on the back of my head. If at a party I inadvertantly brush my hand against a convenient luscious derriere (and leave it there for five or six minutes) I get the same sort of overreaction. The back of my head has a hollow spot from this mistreatment. So, as you can see, it behooves me to take some precautions in my wife's presence.
Meanwhile, back to the narrative. My wife had read a good review of a restaurant in New Haven, the Bella Rosa on Whalley Ave., which advertized a Sunday brunch. We gathered up our usual bruncheon companions, Peter and Nancy, and (me driving) headed to the Elm City (you"d think they'd rename the dam--d place after the elm bilght but no...). The drive was uneventful except for the following remarks from She Who Must Be Obeyed: (1) "Bill, try to drive on OUR side of the road", (2) "Bill, you didn't have room to pass that guy", and (3) "Bill, do you really think 75 is a safe speed?". With such pleasantries wafting to my ears the 30 minute drive only took 5 hours in Bill years.
We arrived at the restaurant and waited on the sidewalk for 15 minutes for a table (there were no reservations of course). The meal was, surprisingly, well worth the wait. The menu was varied and imaginative, the service excellent, and the ambience relaxed. The waitress was attentive without hovering and the maitress d' was smiley and helpfully efficient. The food was delicious, although the portions were so enormous that the % of obesity in the U.S. probably rose 5% by the end of the meal. When I mentioned this to the waitress she suggested that I could take some home, but what fun is that. When I looked down again I noticed that all my food must have evaporated or something. They didn't offer refills on entrees.
Peter and Nancy talked about their upcoming trip to South Africa, Kenya, Botswanna, at al. I was picturing a letter from Peter saying, "All's well. Nancy gored by a white rhino but it's fine. He had a short horn". I'm not sure where these bizaare thoughts come from, everyone knows white rhinos have long horns.
Anyway, I have to close now with the Super Bowl upcoming. Fortunately, I don't have to drive.
Later
You'll find that this post is significantly different from my somewhat leering portrait of lunch at Giovanni's. This is because (1) my wife was there, (2) my wife's friends were there, and (3) in case you didn't get it the first time, my wife was there. My wife has an aversion to my acting like an adolescent, which is unfortunate in view of the fact that this is my usual behavior. For instance, when I throw popcorn in a movie I get a minorly violent slap on the back of my head. If at a party I inadvertantly brush my hand against a convenient luscious derriere (and leave it there for five or six minutes) I get the same sort of overreaction. The back of my head has a hollow spot from this mistreatment. So, as you can see, it behooves me to take some precautions in my wife's presence.
Meanwhile, back to the narrative. My wife had read a good review of a restaurant in New Haven, the Bella Rosa on Whalley Ave., which advertized a Sunday brunch. We gathered up our usual bruncheon companions, Peter and Nancy, and (me driving) headed to the Elm City (you"d think they'd rename the dam--d place after the elm bilght but no...). The drive was uneventful except for the following remarks from She Who Must Be Obeyed: (1) "Bill, try to drive on OUR side of the road", (2) "Bill, you didn't have room to pass that guy", and (3) "Bill, do you really think 75 is a safe speed?". With such pleasantries wafting to my ears the 30 minute drive only took 5 hours in Bill years.
We arrived at the restaurant and waited on the sidewalk for 15 minutes for a table (there were no reservations of course). The meal was, surprisingly, well worth the wait. The menu was varied and imaginative, the service excellent, and the ambience relaxed. The waitress was attentive without hovering and the maitress d' was smiley and helpfully efficient. The food was delicious, although the portions were so enormous that the % of obesity in the U.S. probably rose 5% by the end of the meal. When I mentioned this to the waitress she suggested that I could take some home, but what fun is that. When I looked down again I noticed that all my food must have evaporated or something. They didn't offer refills on entrees.
Peter and Nancy talked about their upcoming trip to South Africa, Kenya, Botswanna, at al. I was picturing a letter from Peter saying, "All's well. Nancy gored by a white rhino but it's fine. He had a short horn". I'm not sure where these bizaare thoughts come from, everyone knows white rhinos have long horns.
Anyway, I have to close now with the Super Bowl upcoming. Fortunately, I don't have to drive.
Later
posted by Papa Bill | 1:40 PM
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