So, I went to a French restaurant on Tuesday. No special occasion happened, although coincidentally enough it turned out to be Bastille Day too. From what I recon, it’s the type of French Independence Day. Let’s not bother ourselves with too much world history.
I got pretty excited since I have never been formally introduced to the French cuisine before. I mean I heard enough about it. And I sure did watch a lot of Food Network. It’s a type of obsession I have. Watching other people mix ingredients, whip up fabulous dishes, and provide advice on best ways to preserve foods; advise I shall never follow. It calms my nerves. Maybe because for that period of time I’m not being bombarded with information about terrorist attacks, world hunger, inevitable financial crisis and latest celebrity break up.
Anyhow, my Food Network marathons seemed to have paid off, as I was familiar with practically every ingredient on the menu. I may have never seen them in real life, or further even tasted any of the elaborate names but I was confident with my choices of beef tartar for appetizer and pan roasted scallops for an entrée. Now, it is always a good idea to go with the daily specials but that day they were serving oxtails with gnocchi (I’m not making up these names, I’m telling you this is just too much television) which I immediately dismissed as too heavy of a choice for a lady on a light summer evening. Well, fancy me.
The place was Juliette’s in Williamsburg. I feel almost guilty and ashamed for myself, but I have nothing bad to say about it. The interior was nice and cozy. The place was welcoming, and friendly to the point that it scared you into thinking it can’t be possibly all good. Some shit is about to go down and ruin your evening. But it didn’t. The food was great, wine tasty, and the company impeccable (wink, wink to my date).
Now, I don’t have any photographic proof for you because you’re not supposed to do that. You’re supposed to have casual conversation, eat the food without a twinge of satisfaction and act as if you live in such restaurants. We did however manage to take this video
Credits to @twisted_mind. Completely unrelated to the occasion but we both found to be disturbingly fascinating.
Then we went walking on a hunt for a bar. Came across a street fair with glittering lights, played silly vendor games, and hopped on some rides. Really? As soon as we saw the street fair we immediately turned the other way, and found shelter in a dingy but awesome bar. We knew it was awesome because it featured candles with Saints on the bar stand.
The bar was Union Pool with fittingly inappropriate interior. It served as a nice reminder that life is not all about fancy dinners at restaurants. This is either a deep thought or I’m making up excuses for our bar choice.
P.S. Do be ready to utilize one of your lateness excuses for work the next day. Memories of the awesome night won’t let out of bed easily.