After a fine lunch at The Dutch, it was time to meet my estimable editor and P.R. person from Penguin/Berkley over coffee at Jacques Torres where Paul Rudd was helping with his babies.
The fried chicken at The Dutch was deceptively good. Deceptive because it was not clear why it was so delicious. Then it hit me: Good quality bird, not greasy, good and dark cuts.
The meeting with publishing comrades was very exciting. We have a 4000 word excerpt out in a major print venue in January. A big public radio show is doing an interview. Three major restaurant and chef enterprises are going to host events.
Later I bought four pounds of coffee at Porto Rico. Even later I strolled Eataly in search of mushrooms, chocolate, beef, and more coffee, but would up finding nothing as stocks seemed depleted. Except the beef, which looked weary.
Drinks in the back room of Patroon and dinner at Aburiya Kinnosuke. The latter is a hard to find izakaya which used to be kind of staid, but is now gloriously punked out with a heavily tatted waiter among many in similar states of implied defiance. Pickled vegetables, fresh vegetables, soft and house made tofu, pork shabu shabu, tsukune, and a big bottle of sake.
Waiting for the wind to pick up to set sail.