New York Leftovers

Congratulations to the amazing Helen Mirren on winning a Tony last night!  Well-deserved, in my opinion.  The play was very good, if not great, but she convincingly played the queen at ages ranging from 25 to 85, and sold me at each. It never felt at all like a caricature (Judith Ivey as Margaret Thatcher, on the other hand...)  That's a pretty impressive feat. Seriously, though, she needs to send Her Majesty a nice Edible Arrangement or something; QE II is the gift that keeps on giving.

Had lunch on the rooftop terrace at Eataly a few Saturdays ago.  It was really enjoyable, if blazing hot.  Had a smattering of apps and salads, and they were all inventive and delicious.  Also, the portions on the cheese tray were what you'd expect from Mario Batali, so grazie, Mario!

Molto Mario, molto cheese!

I'm melting, but the view, the food, and the wine made up for it.

The mojito I had at the Rum House was fantastic.  The bar is smaller than I remembered, but it was definitely the location where I had my first bar drink as a 16 year old.  Less grubby now, and god knows the drinks cost more, but it was fun to be back so many years later, in this improved incarnation.  It was loud, but fun, and the music was good, but could have used a bit less cowbell. I wish I had tracked down a matchbook, to go with the one I brought home in the early 80s, which I am pretty sure is somewhere in my storage locker. Oh well, I can look next time; New York isn't going anywhere.

  

And now, a few notes on the Omni-



I've stayed at this hotel twice before, as I wrote about a few weeks ago.  There were some misses this time out.  Although the folks at the door and the front desk were just lovely and professional, the guy who brought my room service wine (AKA Sunday night dinner) was a disaster.  Initially, he showed up with the wrong bottle, one that cost $20 more than the wine I ordered.  When I pointed it out, he rolled his eyes, dialled room service, and shoved the receiver at me.  The woman on the other end was friendly and apologetic, but this guy acted extremely put out that he had to exchange the bottle, so he slumped off with the wrong one and said he'd be back. I said "sorry", and he grunted, then as the door shut, I said, pretty much to myself, "Why am I sorry? I didn't do anything..."

He came back several minutes later, shoved the new bottle into the ice bucket, then turned to go. He was near the door when I started to say "Uh, can you maybe open the bottle?" when it occurred to him, so he came back and did so, grudgingly.  I still tipped well, which makes me mad at myself.  As he left, I did mutter something smartass, but I can't remember what.

An hour or so later, just when I was getting out of the bath, someone banged on the door, then tried to open it, but luckily I had the inner deadbolt on- I yelled "Can I help you?" and the same guy said "I'm here for the tray!"  I yelled through the door "Come back later, please," and he left. I'm sorry, was that the only tray in use at the Omni that night?  Did he bring it from home, or something? It was all very weird.

My only other thought about the Omni is about the toilet paper.  It was the sort you'd find in a Soviet-era prison camp, but thinner. Seriously, Omni, I'll give you $1 more a night if you upgrade to Cottonelle or something- I'm not saying it needs to be Charmin, just something that doesn't feel like it was made from old telephone books and carbon paper.  If I had been staying any longer, I think I would have headed over to Duane Reade to get myself an upgrade.

That pretty much wraps up New York for this summer.  I wish I could afford to go back for the US Open, but unless I get a hefty raise or a New York-based sugar daddy, it will probably be winter before I can return. Perhaps by then the cronut line will be shorter.