Friday, 8 pm L.E.S
Dinner at Cacio e Pepe in the East Village. We took the news that his brother had bought a Groupon for 3 Dozen mussels and a bottle of wine as a sign that we should eat 3 dozen mussels and down a bottle of wine. We met our group for dinner, dined on the deal, and upon realizing we were still hungry, added some pasta into the mix. Full bellies, and a lot of laughs later, we moved onto the next phase of the night. There was a point in my life where a weekend night would be a three fold unfolding of events. There was the social pre gathering, the nice dinner, and then the move to a bar, lounge or club of our choosing. These days, at 33, and in the comfort of my love, and the cold, wintry night, I can no longer double book a weekend evening, and one fun dinner is enough to relish in for the entirety of the night, maybe even weekend.Click to check out the location and menu
Friday, 10 pm 12th Street City Cinemas
You can tell a lot about a couple, and how long they’ve been together, by the aforementioned second half of the evening. Full on pasta, and always hankering for a good horror movie, we decided to meet some other friends and check out the new Paranormal Activity movie, The Marked Ones. Our dinner companions, newly together, and still in that, lets go sit at a bar and make out phase, left to do something akin to that, and we parted ways to go about our subjectively perfect later night evenings.
Saturday, 8 pm. Forest Hills, Queens
Over the weekend we went Borough, and ventured into Forest Hills to have dinner with my 7 month pregnant best friend and her husband. Nearby at a cute, little italian restaurant called Dees, which was packed, we dined on (again, and clearly I am not sticking to certain things), Italian food like chicken parm, and margherita pizzas, and talked for hours in what felt like something out of a Woody Allen movie. By eleven we were home, cozy in our pajamas watching movies. Just like I like it.Click to see more and check out the menu
Sunday am, home.
Sunday 3 pm, West Village.
5 pm, Sevilla.
We went to an early bird dinner at Sevilla, a romantic spanish restaurant tucked into a corner of the west village. The setting of our fourth date, this restaurant is normally abuzz with customers, but on this off time, it was unusually quiet. Normally, I wouldn’t prefer it; I love the sound of a bustling restaurant on a friday night, but it was oddly fun. I felt like we had the place all to ourselves, which is just how I wanted it. And it basically was that way, except for the screaming spanish baby directly behind us.
A creature of habit, he ordered his always favorite shrimp with green sauce, and chicken villaroy for us to split. Halfway through, I was so full I could barely finish, and as I looked across the table, it was hard to believe that only 2 years ago, we had sat only one table away, barely knowing each other, let alone our eating likes, and quirks. We had sat at the bar, and my prior concerns of if he could keep up with me, some ridiculous standard of banter we hold men up to, was immediately put to rest, by my surprise. As I watched him pick up a ringing pay phone, (the main phone for the restaurant), and answer, “Sevilla, How may I help you?”, as he proceeded to take a full customer call, I realized I had in fact, met my match.Click to check out the menu at Sevilla
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