Happy Birthday to Me

Ok, so my birthday is far enough past that I don’t feel completely gratuitous bragging about the most beautiful gift ever from the best husband ever. And before everyone prepares to retch slightly at all this syrupy joy, let me be honest.

Yes, dear husband does have excellent taste. But no, he wasn’t just randomly surfing vintage websites in search of the perfect gift for me. He did however take the hint when I thrust the laptop in front of him and sighed, “Isn’t this divine!”

It won’t surprise anyone who knows me that the chain comes from my favorite purveyor of high-end vintage clothes and accessories Rice and Beans Vintage. It is a vintage 1970s Gucci gold and enamel GG chain, which can be worn either as a belt or a necklace. It is casual and glamorous all at once.

My husband suggested I buy it as my birthday present and I followed orders. When he asked the next day if I planned to buy the necklace, it was already making its way from Maine to Brooklyn and it was worn out for the very first time to birthday dinner.

I don’t know if I am imagining it,  but there seems to be a resurgence of demand and adoration of the Gucci brand, which has played second fiddle on and off over the years to the ever fashionable Chanel. I’m merely an armchair follower of  haute  fashion, and a frugal one at that, but while Chanel is forever, Florence-based Gucci seems to have slipped on a hip, rejuvenated vibe as it celebrates its 90th anniversary.

At Milan Fashion Week, for instance, Gucci just unveiled its Fall 2011 Ready-to-Wear collection, loaded with color, fur and Fedoras to create what Gucci Creative Director Frida Giannini called a “contemporary female dandy.” Giannini cited UK singer Florence Welch, of Florence and the Machine, as an inspiration for the collection.

Also feeding into Gucci’s celebratory vibe, the fashion house and Italian car giant Fiat used Milan’s Fashion Week to roll out the adorable  “500 by Gucci.”  The special edition and highly covetable version of Fiat’s iconic 500 car marks Gucci’s anniversary and the 150th anniversary of a unified Italian peninsula.

Gucci’s Giannini custom designed the zippy city-car, which comes in white or black and is distinguished from the regular Fiat 500 by Gucci’s signature green-red-green stripe. It will be sold online from April 1 to June 30, with a price tag beginning at 17,000 euros or roughly $24,000 US dollars.

I wonder how big a hint I will need to give dear husband for the car – in white please!

A Cautionary Tale, aka No Communal Tables on Date Night

We don’t get out much together. Dear husband works late weeknights, which leaves only weekends for adult dinners. So on the rare occasions we have a sitter and actually do get to go out, it really bites to have a less than enjoyable time.

Enter the communal table.

A long sturdy wooden table conjures notions of comfort and nostalgia. It takes you back to a toasty kitchen, crowded with family and friends and a grandmother or aunts reigning over bubbling pots and roasting pans. The communal table can convey a sharing of bounty and acceptance.

Increasingly, restaurants are installing large communal tables in part to recreate that homely vibe and often times to maximize square footage and revenue potential per customer. To be sure, you can squeeze more paying diners around a long table, than you can fit individual tables, and that matters when space is tight and overheads high.

It can be nice too in a big city like New York where you might be lunching solo with just a book to keep you company. Pulling up a chair at the communal tables at one of the Frenchified global Le Pain Quotidien restaurants in Manhattan, for instance, feels easy and inconspicuous. There is enough space that you can get by with barely a nod at your neighbors, if you don’t feel like engaging them.

And I’ve never thought twice about joining a large round table for Chinese dim sum. In fact, it’s pretty much the only way a singleton or a couple can join in the parade of passing carts to slurp noodles and dip dumplings during bustling weekend hours. Thankfully, people are there to eat, not make friends, so rarely have I attracted much attention beyond the usual stares at another ignorant gweilo.

Growing Trend

But the trend has spread from grandma’s kitchen and Chinese brunch to new, hip, happening restaurants – Buddakan, BoqueriaThe Meatball Shop, Salt and even the very Upper East Side Café Boulud among them in Manhattan, and locally, in Brownstone Brooklyn, Brucie and Buttermilk Channel and Beer Table.

This brings me to a recent, rare date night when we agreed a little hesitantly to sit at a communal table. The restaurant of choice was crowded and there was a lengthy wait for a 2-top, so it seemed harmless enough sitting side by side at the end of the table. Shortly after we sat down, more people joined the table and the wait staff assumed understandably that we were together. We pointed out that we were separate parties but as timing had it, our orders were taken and food was served in sync.

It was fine for a moment as we kept to ourselves but I sensed that the couple across from us was just dying to make eye contact. Well, I went there; I made the mistake of acknowledging our fellow diners and exchanging pleasantries. I thought we could go on with our meals then, unencumbered, but the chatter went on and on and I found myself trapped in conversation with a stranger as our partners stared into space.

Our date night was being sabotaged by a chatty young woman who, worse still, complained that her meal was overcooked. Here lies the peril in the communal table; friendly neighbors are one thing, but incessant talkers and whiners are deal breakers.

Unpleasant Standoff

The woman sent back her plate and sat glumly through the rest of the meal, making us feel uncomfortable enjoying our own food. When her check arrived she balked at being charged for her discarded meal and called over the chef-owner, who tried graciously to make amends while we tried our hardest not to listen. It was assumed again that we were a group and somehow we became bystanders to an unpleasant standoff.

What began as date night had morphed into a Seinfeld episode.

I wanted to crawl under that wretched communal table. And dear husband chided me for being sociable. “Don’t talk to strangers,” he urged. “It can only end badly.”

Thankfully the offending couple left and the staff, realizing once and for all that we weren’t with them, apologized for our neighbors and our lost evening. But we were scarred, vowing to never again sit at a communal table as a couple, or unless the sociable one  – me – is gagged.

Sure, communal dining has its merits. It can be nice to see what others are eating, or to join in a party atmosphere if you happen to sit near a fun crowd. And with a big group of your own friends or with children in tow there are enough distractions to ward off needy neighbors. In fact, we’ve had some great dinners with the kids at Brooklyn’s Buttermilk Channel when we’ve landed at the communal table surrounded by families celebrating birthdays or graduations and letting us in on the fun.

 But as a couple desperate for some “alone” time, beware!

Park Here! But Make it Snappy

One day, when I grow up and have a house, I want a room in it just like the wonderful, whimsical Park Here, an indoor garden housed at Soho’s Openhouse Gallery for the past couple of months.

Openhouse Gallery is an exhibition and installation space, pop-up retail location and events venue at 201 Mulberry Street in Nolita. The notion to create an indoor, pop-up park is ingenious and I only wish I had bothered to go there sooner.

Tree stumps, fake grass, a pond filled with coins and neat faux leaves entwined on branches, enlivened by chirping birds and perfumed air, make for the perfect winter haven. Take a book, a laptop or a kid and lean on a tree trunk, grab a park bench or nab a huge cushion and while away a bleak afternoon.

Entry to the “park” is free but if you get peckish, Brooklyn’s own Robicelli’s Cupcakes were on sale this closing weekend, as well as brownie treats from The Chocolate Swirl, and other vendors have been in place through the season. It’s just a few steps to restrooms unlike in most parks, and there are no grass stains or muddy boots to worry about.

It’s a fabulous idea, but of course all great ideas need money, so this, sadly, is the last weekend of Park Here. Though, according to the Openhouse Facebook page, they’ll be setting up again next Winter!

If you can get there before it closes tomorrow, Park Here is open from 11am to 6pm at Openhouse Gallery, 201 Mulberry Street, between Spring and Kenmare Streets.

Van Horn Dishes Up Mean Chicken Sandwich

There are certain foods I love the idea of, but which never really live up to my expectations in their execution; scallops, for instance. Don’t even get my husband started on how many times I have ordered scallops in a restaurant and then been disappointed.

Fried chicken is another. I love the sound of chicken soaked in buttermilk and fried to a crunchy, well-salted shell with tender chicken within, but am frequently underwhelmed, even at restaurants I count among my favorites. It’s me, it’s not you, I want to tell them.

Finally, though, I may have met the fried chicken I always think I am going to get. It came in a huge, thick portion piled on a toasted bun with red slaw at the just-opened Van Horn Sandwich Shop on Court Street, Cobble Hill.

I don’t usually write about places after only one visit but an hour after finishing that sandwich, and I am still thinking about biting into the delicious fried chicken. A pickle and some tastily dressed greens come with the simple sandwich. There are a bunch of other Southern-style sandwiches, including a cornmeal dredged catfish, smoked pulled pork, a blt and a vegetarian version with smoked sweet potato strips, a plt. Plus, there’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich ideal for kids, and for their parents, a beer and cocktail list.

I have to return with a group next time to justify ordering a Pimms Cup and sides of hush puppies, mac and cheese, roasted beets and collard greens.

Van Horn Sandwich Shop is a collaboration between architect Jacob Van Horn and chef Rick Hauchman, who both grew up in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and crossed paths again years later in Brooklyn. While Southern at heart and in menu, the eatery has a clean, modern feel with high bentwood stools and plenty of bar space so that eating alone, as I did, doesn’t feel conspicuous. It’s also entrenched in the neighborhood by sourcing ingredients from local producers including Caputo’s Bakery and Paisano’s Meat Market.

Until now, the location at 231 Court Street has seemed somewhat cursed. It previously housed Café Ribant, which formerly went by the name Café Mei Mei, and never really took off as either. And it was Jill’s before that. I’m rooting for this sandwich shop, and I think all bodes well, especially with much-acclaimed newcomer Brucie across the road, Strong Place and Karloff down the street and stalwarts like Quercy and Sam’s Restaurant just a  stone’s throw away.

Van Horn Sandwich Shop is at 231 Court Street, between Warren + Baltic streets.; phone: 718.596.9707.