Hey Mami

I can't say *enjoyed* this story in the Washington City Paper about street harassment, as I found it awfully disheartening. I did find it somewhat validating, though, since men who don't catcall have a hard time believing that it does happen, all the time, and creates a large amount of distress for those women who don't appreciate it (which I have to assume is the vast majority).

The comments are pretty excellent too, especially regarding the vexing "smile" issue that has driven me nearly to the brink of insanity during my years in New York:

"...and the "SMILE!!!" thing??? Drives me fucking crazy. I get told to smile multiple times in a week. Guess what? I can smile when I feel like smiling. I am capable of manipulating the muscles in my mouth to produce a facial expression representing joy. I don't need your assistance on the street. You are not making my day when you tell me to smile. You are just another man who thinks he can control my emotions on command."

Well put, sister.

Tree in the East Village

Last night I saddled the boyfriend Clark with the apparently cumbersome task of choosing a restaurant. "You pick," translated into manspeak as "Let's go randomly walk around in the muggy heat, becoming increasingly hungry, sweaty and frustrated as we look at menus in windows and wonder why the place is utterly deserted" instead of "Go read menupages and see what looks good in your area." Luckily, Clark has an excellent sense of humor and doesn't mind when I needle him on this blog. Right, Clark? ;-)

Obviously, you can't toss your Chuck Taylor in the East Village without hitting a restaurant, but half of them suck and aspire only to please the palates, apparently, of first-year NYU students. Luckily, I remembered there was a place I wanted to try in the East Village, after reading a NYMag review. It's called Tree, and it's on 1st Avenue between 11th and 12th.

I highly recommend Tree if you're in the area and want a nice garden, some good wine, a good place to talk by candlelight, and solid French food. We had a fantastic bottle of Sauvignon Blanc that had a nice crisp bite to it, along with some escargot to start. The escargot could have used a bit more salt but otherwise were firm and fleshy. Clark had the scallops, but I definitely "won" with my main dish of a seared duck breast (perfectly cooked, and just fatty enough) with pomegranate reduction and a side of sweet parsnip puree.

What's really great about it is the enormous backyard -- easily 10 times the size of the restaurant itself and full of trees and sparkly white lights. Our server was definitely accomodating and I think it would make an incredible date restaurant, (or rather, it did make an incredible date restuarant).

So should you ever walk by, your stomach growling and your desire that someone had looked at menupages growing, and notice that there's no one sitting in Tree, don't be scared off -- they're all out back feasting

I Am Famous (But Only By Association)

My dear friend Will is doing his best to make sure all of humanity can weigh in on whether the carpets match the drapes.