Ok, I’ll be wanting someone to go with me to Blackbird immediately. Or actually, some time around April 5.
Who’s in?
Like Mr. Furious with a really nice handbag.
Ok, I’ll be wanting someone to go with me to Blackbird immediately. Or actually, some time around April 5.
Who’s in?
I’ll go. I have wanted to for awhile.
I’ll have to pass, but do tell me all about it when you get back.
I think I’ll have to pass too..just not my kind of place, really. A little to pretentious for my taste.
K: Awesome. We’re on! If we do a weekend, maybe we can lunch it?
Shaz: Will do, in explicit detail, especially as it will be my only fine dining experience for a good long time.
M-Shel: If creatively prepared, deliciously exquisite food is pretentious, and pretentious is wrong, I don’t want to be right. *drooling over idea of grilled short rib and hanger steak with ’scalloped’ sunchokes, persimmon and spice bread crumbs.
My feelings on “pretentious” dining: Food cannot be inherently pretentious. It can only inherently be sustenance. The chef can be pretentious. The staff can be pretentious. The consumer can be pretentious. But food, like anything else, is only what you choose to make of it.
And I choose to dwell on the tongue-tingling combination of short ribs and hanger stake and sunchokes dancing in my mouth.
*drooling again*
Damnit, now I want steak immmmmmmediately.
I never said the food is pretentious. I do believe I specifically said, not my kind of place, which if anything I’ve read and heard about it holds true, is pretentious via it’s staff, atmosphere and clientele.
In this city, I can find equally good food in an atmosphere that is more to my comfort and liking…and don’t have to pay the $40 pricetag to do it. That’s the beauty of living in a large city–much to choose from.
Well woman, if you know where to get the meal I described for less, please share! I’d be happy to try that, too.
But re: pretentious *clientele*, I can’t say I’ve read much about them, or about the chef’s attitude; I’m all in for the menu. I guess I just ignore that attitude, if in fact it is there. I refuse to let anyone make me feel uncomfortable for a meal I’m paying them to serve me, so I assume going in–especially if I’m spending a good bit of money–that the moment is about me and my enjoyment, not about them and their perceptions. Plus, for me, the pomp of a restaurant can be part of the fun. I see the trappings as suitable backdrops to the main event. It’s as though the chef is saying: “I’m making you something wonderful. This is an art, one in which all of your senses can and will be engaged. Let’s go.” Aaaaaand commence amuse bouche sequence. Seriously. In my mind, it’s practically a musical number.
I appreciate the little touches. I only get cranky when the food doesn’t live up to its flourishes.
Then again, my blog is called “Siddity in the City.” I’m uppity to begin with. I may just take high-fallutin’ service as my due :-/
But, I get it, you’re not into this trip, and I know you hate the idea of all things “snotty!” Fair enough. Someplace else, another time!
Lunch would be ideal!