Since of course I wanted to try a new restaurant, I'd spent part of the afternoon reading Yelp reviews. A word on that: I would never base all or even some of my decisions on reviews...any kind of reviews. But Yelp can be helpful in so many ways. You can find all the restaurant within a walking mile, sort them by type of cuisine, find links to their menus, discover their hours of operation and price ranges, and, yes, know before heading there whether or not the universal consensus is that they suck.
The other day my coworker asked me if I was "one of those people who write Yelp reviews." He said he asked this based on the fact that whenever we have conversations about places to go, I cover all the major categories, including ease of parking, without his having to ask. I was reminded of that this afternoon as I asked my brother 80 follow-up questions over the phone after he told me they just opened a Gray's Papaya down the street from his place and he'd gone there this afternoon for his first taste of NY dog (er, hot dog). I guess, in a way, I do take something of a Yelper approach to dine out decisions these days. I would hate it if the pre-informing kept me from trying something new and great, but I do feel like certain information is helpful to have before setting out. And while sometimes people can be overly harsh or demanding in their reviewing, I do find it to be the case that if--in over 100 reviews--the average rating for a restaurant is 3 stars or fewer, there are likely better options out there.
Which brings me to
Today's New Activity: Squished Together Dining at Osteria
Osteria is an Italian restaurant just one block off University Avenue in Palo Alto. I didn't even read the reviews, just found their menus on a take out website and decided, based on one Yelp photo, that it would work. When we got there I found it to be much smaller and the seating much more intimate than I'd expected. But I kind of like that feel...for some reason that is how I picture restaurants in Little Italy, in New York to be. Why do we need all sorts of space, anyway?
Raul had arrived some time before Nicole and I, so luckily when the host--who seemed a bit stressed and overwhelmed by the number of people waiting for tables (as was I on a random Wednesday evening--saw that the third part of Raul's party had arrived, he sat us right away.
This is definitely one of those places where the servers/host think it's so great, or their own tastes so refined, they have the right to attitude. We saw the host sternly deny an elderly woman a table since her husband was still parking the car, and our own server, who did nothing to project a hint of friendliness, made it clear that Raul's Scampi Mediterranean choice was the only of the three of which he approved. No matter...I wasn't there to have dinner with the host or our server.
I chose the Linguine al Pesto, which was excellent.
It was such a great experience to be out with these two, totally out-of-context. For 10 years now I've been used to being out with them in or near downtown San Jose, and it's been a really long time since I've been out with them at all, especially without children, at a real grown-up restaurant.
My seat was facing the window, and as I watched all the other grownups walk by, and later, as we walked and passed by all the other packed-full restaurants on University Avenue, I daydreamed about how nice it would be to have the means to dine at all the nice restaurants, whenever I wanted. The people inside looked vibrant, full of energy, bustling at (by then) 9pm on a Wednesday. Or maybe that was my own projection. And if so, I'll take it...it means that is inside me somewhere.
As I've mentioned here before, Nicole and Raul have been two steady and dependable constants in my life through a good share of ups and downs. This year marked the 20th year of my friendship with Nicole (she was at the surprise 13th birthday party a friend through for me in the 8th grade!), and it just gets better as the time passes.
After dinner we ended up at Starbucks where we fell into a familiar pattern (by the way, I love how the word "familiar" finds its roots in "family"), Raul working on his laptop while Nicole and I talk Mommihood and friendship and new ideas and old flashbacks. This time she was re-telling (by my request) the story of the customer who loved her when she worked at Starbucks (her first job when we moved to San Jose). It's a wonder and a triumph of enduring friendship that I heard something new in that story this time around.
I consider it an absolute blessing, the fact that I'm sure to spend at least the next 33 years trading stories, new and recycled, with these true friends :)
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