Miss Liz is home again so things are back on track.
David and I picked her up at the airport and we went out to dinner. Whenever anyone arrives at Kennedy Airport anywhere near dinner time we like to pick them up so we can eat at this same restaurant.
It’s an italian restaurant that looks like something out of “The Sopranos”. They serve the greatest food family style. Every table is filled with big groups laughing and screaming at each other.
Since we stick out like sore thumbs, (well Liz and David do, I don’t) every time we go there the maitre d’ who I assume is named Frankie because almost everyone there is named either Frankie or Dominic, asks “Where ya from?”.
We answer, “Manhattan”.
And he always says “Whoa, we don’t get a lot o’ youse guys.”
Now for those who live in other lands (New Jersey or Canada) Manhattan is about 30 minutes away but it might as well be on Mars.
It’s not just the staff that are warm and friendly. The people that eat there are too.
Last night there was a long table celebrating a birthday next to us. A woman from the party happened to catch our eyes and she introduced us to the whole family, Uncle Tony, the birthday boy, (he was about 70) and Aunt Marie, she’s one of 18 children. And do you believe it? The woman speaking has 109 first cousins. I won’t name them all but there were 14 Angelos , 15 Teresas, 11 Christophers and only one Jennifer.
The last time we were there there was another party and the waiter was cutting up a sheet cake and passing it out to the revelers. When he saw me looking at it he just cut another piece and put it in front of me. Tell me this isn’t the greatest place.
Today is Rosh Hashanah or the “Day of the Latkes” as it is said.
I am making a lovely dinner for Julie, Violet and Lizzie. David is in Tennessee.
I’m making roast chicken, corn, potatoes (2 starches just to piss off my sister and a few of you purists) and a few other things.
In the age old jewish tradition dinner should start at 5:30 and be over by 5:45.