![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Sep. 1st, 2006 12:57 amAfter yesterdays descent into Sleep Madness my insomnia issue seems to have righted itself, although the capirhina(sp?) I had with dinner may also be helping - we went to a nice, if not stellar Brazilian grill this evening. I'm looking forward to a night at home tomorrow, now that it seems like Sir's gotten his sleep problems on the right track too. (crosses fingers)
My spinning wheel decided to go on the fritz today, so while I got some spinning done, I'm not quite where I expected. I'm not too disappointed though, it's the first time she's given me any trouble in 2 years.
As we sat down to dinner I began to think about our dining out, and places we've known and loved. One in particular stands out, an Italian bistro called Cafe Noi, on Bleecker Street. We'd started going there after the farmers market for breakfast, and after the owner changed his hours we began going for dinner. We became friends with the chef and his family, to the point where one evening the chefs wife came bustling in, and wordlessly deposited their baby son into Sir's arms while she took care of a few things. (The chef leaned over the counter and reminded us he wasn't on the menu:)) Carmello's kitchen set up was a couple of convection ovens and a few camp-stoves, in an area about 8 feet by 3 feet, a narrow galley. In these extraordinary conditions he created the most brillant, transcendant food I've ever had. Seriously, every meal without fail was amazing. The Italian ambassador has publicly stated Carmello was the best Italian chef in the city, and I recall a table full of Italian special forces dining there one night.
One of my best birthdays included a five hour dinner at Noi, with Carmello creating a special sequence of courses just for us, having asked Sir what I liked (mushrooms). While all the courses are etched into my memory, the one that stands out the most was his gift to me, a mushroom and saffron consomme. Mind you, saffron is *exspensive*, and there was a kings ransom of it in this amazing soup, so much that when it was set before me I just loooked up at him with startled eyes, and he smiled, telling me it was his gift to me. He loved making wonderful food, and loved knowing how happy it made us. We started out as customers, became regulars, became friends, always surrounded by our favorite things, excellent food, and good company. Anytime friends we visiting we brought them to Carmello, knowing he'd deliver a wonderful meal, and a wonderful time.
I think of Noi now with some nostalgia, since it's long been closed, Carmello returned to Italy. I haven't had a meal that made me take notice the way his did in a long time, not since a tea house and a Chinese restaurant in Buffalo. Noi having closed is actually one of the reasons it's easier to let go of being here, truly. It seems strange to weigh so much on something so seemingly simple, but there it is.
My spinning wheel decided to go on the fritz today, so while I got some spinning done, I'm not quite where I expected. I'm not too disappointed though, it's the first time she's given me any trouble in 2 years.
As we sat down to dinner I began to think about our dining out, and places we've known and loved. One in particular stands out, an Italian bistro called Cafe Noi, on Bleecker Street. We'd started going there after the farmers market for breakfast, and after the owner changed his hours we began going for dinner. We became friends with the chef and his family, to the point where one evening the chefs wife came bustling in, and wordlessly deposited their baby son into Sir's arms while she took care of a few things. (The chef leaned over the counter and reminded us he wasn't on the menu:)) Carmello's kitchen set up was a couple of convection ovens and a few camp-stoves, in an area about 8 feet by 3 feet, a narrow galley. In these extraordinary conditions he created the most brillant, transcendant food I've ever had. Seriously, every meal without fail was amazing. The Italian ambassador has publicly stated Carmello was the best Italian chef in the city, and I recall a table full of Italian special forces dining there one night.
One of my best birthdays included a five hour dinner at Noi, with Carmello creating a special sequence of courses just for us, having asked Sir what I liked (mushrooms). While all the courses are etched into my memory, the one that stands out the most was his gift to me, a mushroom and saffron consomme. Mind you, saffron is *exspensive*, and there was a kings ransom of it in this amazing soup, so much that when it was set before me I just loooked up at him with startled eyes, and he smiled, telling me it was his gift to me. He loved making wonderful food, and loved knowing how happy it made us. We started out as customers, became regulars, became friends, always surrounded by our favorite things, excellent food, and good company. Anytime friends we visiting we brought them to Carmello, knowing he'd deliver a wonderful meal, and a wonderful time.
I think of Noi now with some nostalgia, since it's long been closed, Carmello returned to Italy. I haven't had a meal that made me take notice the way his did in a long time, not since a tea house and a Chinese restaurant in Buffalo. Noi having closed is actually one of the reasons it's easier to let go of being here, truly. It seems strange to weigh so much on something so seemingly simple, but there it is.
