Dinner
and a Movie
Romance,
the “I’s” Have It (India and Italy)
By
Steve Herte
So
ends another week of vacation. Betty and Maggie both loved the Museum
of Natural History, the 3D movie “Secret Ocean,” the Butterfly
Conservatory, the “Life at the Limits” exhibit, even “Spiders
Alive!” (Betty wondered about seeing that one, but I assured her
that none of the spiders could get at her.) Karaoke that evening was
a great time. Some of the crowd from the Coney Island boardwalk came
and sat at the table near us. Everyone had fun. Dan hosted and it was
two-for-Tuesday night, so for me it was back-to-back David Bowie. I
sang “Young Americans” and “Heroes.”
Big
announcement: The workbench down the basement is now clear! One can
actually work on it again. But there’s much more to do.
No
blockbusters were opening so I got the chance to see a romantic
comedy – and such a different one! The restaurant? Wow! Enjoy!
Meet
the Patels (Alchemy, 2014) – Directors:
Geeta Patel & Ravi Patel. Writers: Matthew Hamachek, Billy
McMillin, Geeta Patel, & Ravi Patel. Stars: Champa V. Patel,
Geeta Patel, Ravi Patel, & Vasant K. Patel. Color, PG, 88
minutes.
“I’m
almost 30 and I’m still not married!” says Ravi Patel at the
beginning of this home-movie style romantic comedy. He seems to
forget through most of the picture that older sister Geeta, who is
filming his every move, is also still not married. It’s not too big
a deal to their father, Vasant, but mother Champa V. Patel is well
known in the Gujarat state of India as the most successful matchmaker
ever.
Vasant
and Champa are “the happiest couple I know,” and the result of an
arranged marriage which has lasted 35 years. Both see their son’s
plight and want to help as much as possible. On an annual family trip
to India, they meet the extended family (all Patels), and though all
are interested in finding a bride for Ravi, it is to no avail.
Ravi
tells his parents that he would prefer a girl from America and they
arrange a series of 15 dates with Indian girls (again, all Patels) in
15 different United States cities including Denver, Boston, New York,
Miami, Dallas, and Los Angeles, and this fails to make wedding bells
ring. However, Champa is undaunted. She searches Internet dating
sites, sends Ravi to a Matrimonial Convention, a speed dating
session, and a grand Indian wedding. Over the period of a year, none
of the beautiful girls he meets either interests him, or seems to
want a second date.
It’s
not that Ravi is lacking in the looks or intelligence departments.
The audience knows his secret. In the beginning we meet Audrey, a
redhead from Connecticut, who has been dating Ravi for two years
before his wife-hunting odyssey. They broke up because of Ravi’s
commitment issues (and his parents). He’s afraid to tell his
parents because Audrey is as far from being Indian as she is from
being “wheatish-brown” in complexion. But this secret does come
to light until towards the end of the film when Ravi feels he must
tell Vasant and Champa. Their astonishment is palpable. Vasant is
easily swayed because he wants his son to be happy. Not so, Champa.
“I will not give up my culture so easily!”
But
after much cajoling and explaining, and promising not to lie to her
again, she asks, “Do you still love her?” “I guess so.” “Then
you must get her back!” And the whole process of wooing Audrey
begins anew.
After
The Blair Witch
Project (1999), Cloverfield (2008), and Quarantine (2008),
I swore I would avoid hand-held camera films ever after. But this one
is different. It combines simple animation with remarkably steady
home-movies (granted, some scenes are out of focus, but Ravi warns us
of this) to tell a delightfully funny story of finding a bride for
little brother. I didn’t mind the amateur photography. We don’t
get to see Geeta too much because she’s usually behind the camera,
only the animated character. The animation helps to explain what’s
going on in the film and Ravi’s experiences, kind of like a
narrator. It gave the whole movie a Seinfeld-ish twist.
The
big surprise is that this really is a home-movie! No actors play
other people. I’ve never enjoyed a film before where nobody is
trying to be someone else. They all are exactly who they are and it
works. No scriptwriter could come up with the hilarious lines a
devoted family can spout extemporaneously. At one point, Champa says,
“None of my children are interested in getting married!” Vasant
claims, “After 35 years, I still don’t understand her … and
she’s still trying to change me.”
It’s
a charming, almost documentary, film about one man’s resolution of
the inner battle between his personal needs and his love and respect
for his parents. Although I believe I was the only man in the
audience, guys, let your girls take you to see this one. You’ll
gain brownie points and you might discover that you actually like it
too. Parents, some kids will get it, most won’t. It depends on
their sophistication.
Rating:
3½ out of 5 Martini glasses.
Bricco
304
W. 56th St. (8th/9th Avenues),
New York
On
their website you will see “one of the most romantic restaurants”
and “incomparable cuisine!” Both boasts are good enough to draw
me to dine at Bricco, which is a full 14 blocks away from my movie
theater. But when I saw one particular dish on the menu you couldn’t
keep me away.
The
entrance, under a bright red awning, is a graceful brick front with a
single-arched door painted a rusty-red. It bespeaks an air of
intimacy as well as permanence. Inside, there is a large bar with
golden-orange walls and a ceiling covered with kisses (literally,
there are lipstick kiss marks made by women customers). The lighting
is sensual, but not dark. I announced my reservation at the Captain’s
Station and a young girl led me to a table next to the wall defining
the end of the bar and the beginning of the main dining area.
The
wine list was already on the table and my server, Milton, presented
me with the food menu when he took my water preference. I was happy
that I could read both the bold and fine print on the menu by the
available light. When Milton poured my water he asked if I desired a
cocktail and soon my favorite martini was there as well. To save
time, Milton recited the specials of the day and left me to decide.
It helped that another server brought the breadbasket containing two
large slices of crusty Italian bread, a piece of focaccia, and a
ramekin of fresh butter.
As
near as I can find, “Bricco” translates as “Jug” (as in wine
jug), but it also has a translation as being the highest point in a
vineyard, hence the sun-like logo of the restaurant. The menu
categories are pretty standard Italian – Antipasti (appetizers),
Insalate Salads, Zuppe (soups), Pesce (fish dishes), Primi Piatti
(pastas), Carni (meat dishes), Pizza, and Dolci (desserts). I was
surprised to see that there were no Contorni (side dishes). But I was
just as glad because the meal was shaping up to be a four-course
feast. I had chosen my appetizer online, the main course was easy and
there was a soup I’ve never tried before. All that was left was the
pasta, one of my favorite courses. Milton had mentioned two special
pastas that intrigued me, and he helped with that decision.
Once
the meal was decided, Milton checked it with me as to when each
course should arrive and left me to choose a wine. No sooner did I
page to the red wine section (it’s a very impressive book!) than I
found an affordable 2008 Amarone della Valpolicella “La Formica.”
Amarones and Barolos have been increasingly expensive since I first
fell in love with them and it was heartening to know I would taste
the full-bodied red once more. It was fabulous.
My
first course, and the one that hooked me, was Trippa – tripe
simmered in a fresh spicy tomato sauce. Tripe is an acquired taste
and most people can’t get over what it actually is. Once you’re
past the “lining of a cow’s stomach,” it still can be cooked
wrong. This dish was perfect, however. The delicate strips were
tender, but not mushy, spicily flavored by the sauce without the
stringent after-taste some tripe dishes have. I loved it.
I
checked with Milton on the pronunciation of the next course, we
agreed on “Ah-lez.” The Ale’s Soup – diced breast of chicken,
carrots, spaghettini, in a chicken broth was a wonderful departure
from your standard minestrone or stracciatelle. The bright orange
carrots elbowed for space with the pieces of chicken so much that the
pasta only surfaced occasionally. A couple of teaspoons of grated
Parmesan cheese and it was perfect.
Milton
kept a close eye on my progress: Two dishes done and the plates wiped
clean with the bread. Only when I was ready did he bring out the next
course, the fettuccini with a rich veal ragout. Another server grated
fresh pepper for me. The words “incomparable cuisine” echoed in
my head as I twirled this al dente pasta mixed with
crumbles of perfectly cooked veal, and went straight to Heaven. I
looked up at the ceiling and thought of the Jimi Hendrix line from
“Purple Haze,” “s’cuse me, while I kiss the sky!”
Again,
keeping things in moderation I had a settling period before the main
course. The Scaloppine Tutta Terra (all lands) was a plate of
glistening, tender veal medallions with peppers, artichokes,
mushrooms and white wine. Three excellent dishes had become four. The
Mets wish they could have this batting average. (Come to think of it,
so does Tony’s Di Napoli.) I didn’t need a side dish. Everything
I could have asked for was already served. And, under the attentive
service of Milton, my wine lasted until the last bite: Another clean
plate. “Save room for dessert!” warned Milton as he cleared.
Among
the familiar desserts on the list I saw the unusual one. The Fresh
Grape Pie – with Italian pastry cream – is a signature dish for
Bricco. It looked more like Nesselrode pie but there was no denying
the grapy flavor. With the dark raspberry sauce drizzled over it, it
was simply amazing. Milton brought over a double espresso to go with
it. The owner, Nino Catuogno offered an after dinner drink. I chose
Strega but they were out of it. He suggested cognac. “V.S.O.P.?”
“Si!” Soon I had a snifter next to my wonderful dessert.
I
commented to him that the tripe was the dish that got me to come to
his restaurant. He told me a story. “When I opened this restaurant
19 years ago, my wife asked, 'Why I put tripe on the menu?' She said,
‘Who’s going to eat that?’ 'I eat that!'” So do I. I asked if
the chef ever makes scungilli (conch). “Sure he does. You just let
us know ahead of time and we’ll make it for you.”
I
don’t know about being romantic at Bricco, but you can’t get more
love from one restaurant. Now I have a really good reason to return.
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