Today gave new meaning to expressions that things are not always as they seem. Just because a restaurant has a name like New York New York doesn’t necessarily mean it serves sophisticated urban cuisine.
I had to report for jury duty today and on an extra long lunch break, I waded through the ever present panhandlers that loiter around the Capital to a restaurant below it by that name. It was a bit of a surprise when I went inside and saw a mix of cafeteria-style serving, self-service salad bar and drinks, and a deli, apparently owner/manged by Orientals. Nothing New Yorkish about any of that! Not the management but all the rest. I left smelling of fried food ~ my coat, my clothes, my hair, my everything!
When I got home, I washed what I could and sprayed what I couldn’t. My silk blouse is airing on the sun porch now, and I’m hoping I don’t have to pay a dry cleaning bill just to get rid of the odor. I suppose you could describe the flavor as close-to-Southern and the food was mediocre at best, definitely not worth reeking of grease the rest of the afternoon. I really debated about whether to turn around and leave when I first walked in and now I wish I had!
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