Sunday, October 15, 2006

Right This Way

Girlfriend and I walked into Babbo yesterday -- a Saturday night at 8 p.m. No reservations. No calling ahead. Just strolled by Batali's crib, asked the maitre d' if there was a chance of being seated, and (instead of being laughed at) was immediately accommodated.

Then, the Chairman from Iron Chef America walked in with his party, checked in with the host, and was kept waiting (literally) beside our table for his to open up for close to thirty minutes.

I can't wait to live in the city.

2 Comments:

At 8:23 PM, Blogger CM said...

Nice! Seems like a rare occurrence, though.

That guy is so cheesy. Did he become enraged and karate chop your table?

 
At 1:44 PM, Blogger SLS2L(@YLS) said...

Nope, but the Chairman did glare at me when I obnoxiously described the food to Girlfriend in dramatic-made-for-television format.

It was actually my second time there. I'm not normally big on Italian food - but the place even makes pasta taste like ambrosia.

 

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