Restaurant Week

082713-1
(Restaurant Week breaded scallops. All photos courtesy Willow Restaurant)

I would prefer to be writing an account of Restaurant Week at Willow. Tracy O’Grady has doubled down on the chance for broader exposure of her restaurant, and extended the special menu through next Saturday, and was open on Sunday, an unusual event.

Staff looked like they had been rode hard and put away wet when I ambled into the bar last night. I like to maintain a schedule- but it was clear that Tex and Jasper had not had a day off since Restaurant Week kicked off seven days before.

The deal with the promotion- most of the upper-crust establishments participate as an opportunity to get value-conscious diners to come out and experience the ambiance and taste on a prix fixe limited menu.

We were more curious about the matter of the coming last Friday of the month, in which the special Buffalo, New York, menu is celebrated. That is apparently still up in the air, according to Jasper, and the staff is longing for the last diner to depart this coming Saturday evening and let them all sleep in.

More specials appear to be almost more than they can bear.

082713-2
(The award-winning Willow double burger, an entrée for Restaurant Week).

This is much more real than what is happening in the Eastern Med, as I mentioned to Old Jim at the apex of the Amen Corner. Chanteuse Mary, his long suffering bride, stopped in for a quick one before resuming packing for the trip to Alaska with her sister and John-with-an-H was already deep into his relationship with the happy hour white. I joined him resolutely. The Lovelies- Bea and Jamie- were with Jon-without in Costa Rica, enjoying some tropical end-of-summer fun and won’t be back.

“Did you see the picture of Jon-without on that massage table? I wonder about Facebook sometimes.”

“I stay away from social media,” said John-with. “There is nothing but trouble there.”

“Jon seemed to be enjoying himself, based on his smile,” I said. “But I don’t know if he was going to get the special.”

“I just want the Halibut Sliders back on the menu,” growled Jim. “And replace the cans with long neck bottles. I can’t wait for restaurant week to end. And get the amateurs out of here.”

082713-3
(Heritage tomatoes and goat cheese salad).

Mary laughed. “I thought you were drinking a Diet Coke,” and pointed at the brightly colored can of Bud, which for some reason known only to ImBev was decorated like a baseball, with red stitching printed up the side of a white background.

“It is an outrage,” said Jim.

“Lot of outrages going on,” I said. “So, Assad used chemicals on his own people,” I said. “That crosses the Red Line the President mentioned a while back. Now the credibility of the United States is on the line.”

“We lost that a long time ago,” said John-with.

“Oh, you mean the coup-that-wasn’t a coup in Egypt?”

“The President hasn’t suspended aid yet, and you know the military depends on it. If we cut it off, it will destabilize the economy and the al Sisi regime.”

“What side are we on, anyway? Shouldn’t we be supporting the secularists against the Muslim Brotherhood?”

“They were popularly elected,” said Jim. “But they are assholes.”

“They were elected. Once. That is how it works,” said John-with.

“It is complex. We have managed to outsource the support to the opposition in Syria to the Turks, and the Erdogan government is in cahoots with the Islamic fundamentalists, who are being supported by the House of Saud and the Emirates.”

“With the Iranians supporting Assad, along with the Russians and the Chinese.”

“Yeah, and the latter two are on the Security Council and the chances they will support some sort of action against Assad is precisely zip-nada.”

“But somebody has got to do something, right? That creep can’t be allowed to gas his own people.”

“Unless it is all bogus and staged by the opposition.”

“How would they have gotten the weapons?” I mused. “I think it probably happened. But the Administration failed to act decisively when we could have shaped the opposition, but instead we let the Turkish Justice and Development Party do it. And now we have a choice between two different flavors of war criminals.”

“Welcome to the Arab Summer. And now, a day late and a dollar short, the President is going to have to do something- anything- to shore up credibility. You can bet Iran and North Korea are watching with interest.”

“Not to mention Israel,” I said. “Do you think we are going to outsource smacking the Iranian nukes to them?”

John-with frowned. “It is a freaking mess.

I waved down the bar at Jasper. “Another happy Hour white, please. And the check. I may go home and actually watch the news.”

“Welcome to the Middle East. And have a nice day,” growled Jim. “I am going to have another beer.”

082713-4
(Kate Jansen’s fabulous desert trifle.)