East 1st between 2nd Avenue and the Bowery
Trout roe on radish matchsticks, with brown butter.
Gabrielle Hamilton's book is called Blood, Bones and Butter*. Excellent title. I've read a short story of hers in The New Yorker, and chances are the book is well written. I hadn't been here forever and the menu had changed! At last! Some of our lunch choices were a bit hit or miss.
A very good bib lettuce salad, with the lettuce in wedges. The manti (not praying mantis as I'd thought they might be, given La Hamilton's reputation for in-your-face ingredients) but tiny stuffed pasta pockets in a good broth were very solid little pellets, and then what was described as veal paillard, but which was a schnitzel, and strong on the egg. Paillard is not breaded.
And for dessert, the Pets de nonne, translated by the waitress as nuns' habits, but it rang a bell, and I asked, Do you mean Nuns' farts? Er, yes, she said, but habits are more polite.
Still, I prefer the older, sweeter joke. The pets were very good. No matter which end of the nun they graced.
* Read the review for Blood, Bones and Butter in the New York Times.
* Read the review for Blood, Bones and Butter in the New York Times.
Not until I read the NYC book review did I realize I read part of this memoir in The New Yorker. I didn't put her together with Prune, but I very much enjoyed her writing. Almost as much as lunch.
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