VIEW ALL ADANNA'S BLOG ENTRIES
It
was more than hot; it was dang hot.
We ventured out for dinner on Wednesday – quite possibly the hottest
night of the year – to meet up with one of my dearest friends from
those heady days of undergraduate bliss.
Note: You know it is really too hot to be going anywhere when the streets of SoHo and the West Village are virtually empty.
I chose Le Cercle Rouge because I
knew it would appeal to Shelley’s fond memories of Paris, theater, film
and that brief stint she did as a singing waiter somewhere in the Latin
Quarter. But walking up West Broadway, I began to feel as though
I would melt, and the desire to eat drained right out of me.
Note: It is a rare event when I do not feel like eating. Few things can keep me from the table.
I arrived drenched in sweat and
feeling oh-so-icky. But then I saw Shelley and her genuinely happy
smile – which hasn’t changed at all over the past decade – and I no
longer cared about how hot and sweaty I was.
The bar at Cercle Rouge was
modestly busy, and the bartender was working up a sweat shaking some
passion fruit special to life. All I wanted was a glass of white
wine and a little space to breathe and to hear all about Shelley and
how she met that wonderful husband of hers.
Note:
There is something about this hot, heavy ozone-laden air that makes it
difficult to take a really deep breath. I felt like an old wheezer
trying to making up the stairs.
First of all, to know Shelley is to
know someone who is not only tons of fun, but who is also as curious
about the world as anyone can be. I love that rock and roll
streak in her, which somehow fit in with the ambience at Cercle
Rouge. My husband arrived “un peu en retard”, which is not
unusual especially in this heat, so he found us there, just under the
palm tree, already aglow.
Note:
I haven’t been to Cercle Rouge since opening night, when it was filled
with people who don’t care one flip for food, only for being seen at
openings and showing off their new collagen-filled lips. Fortunately,
none of those people were there.
The dining room was only about
half-full, which, given the sweltering heat and dense particulate
matter flying through the air, was not surprising. The crowd was like a
bowl of Baby Bear pudding - just right. It was lively, yet not
gruesomely loud; the lone waiter was friendly and attentive but not so
in the weeds he had to be flagged down; and the kitchen was not out of
time.
Note: Le
Cercle Rouge has changed chefs since the grand opening, but signature
chicken wings are still on the menu, and are still the most popular
item, hands down.
I ordered the onglet (hangar
steak) with the bone marrow sauce – a shock, since I had not even been
hungry when I arrived. But sitting with Shelley, listening to her raspy
singer’s voice and her fun stories, I was overcome by conviviality. It
was truly wonderful to see her after such a long time, and I was glad
to see that the essential Shelley remains intact and as fun-loving as
ever. I was also glad to see that Cercle Rouge has settled into a kind
of bistro mood, free or orange tans and implants.
Tags:
Cercle Rouge, hottes night of the year, onglet, Shelley
© All rights reserved.
Posted on 8/4/2006
(
Permanent Link
)
 Send to Friend
|
 |
|
Comments (0 total)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|