In true to SATC-form, the destination for my last dinner in New York was Tao. For SATC fans, this was the place Samantha brought her lesbian-phase girlfriend to meet the rest of the girls, and there was a giant Buddha statue by their table. Reservations were made, and I, along with a Parisian traveler also touring NY, made my way to Tao at 10pm. It's just the kinda place that's so swanky you only have dinner in the dead of the night.
Everything's very Asian-fusion, as their theme describes it. I don't know why 'fusion' was used, maybe because it happens to rhyme with 'Asian'. A lot of restaurants like describing their styles as so but what are they fusing it with? That part wasn't made explicitly clear to me. Is it a way to dodge questions about whether their chef's really Asian, or to charge exorbitant prices? "We don't need real Asian chefs, that's the whole point of fusion, come on! Keep up with the times already." It's very loud like the inside of a club, the lights are dim and decorations are mainly black and red. Perhaps they meant Asia fused with sex dungeon?
My new pal for dinner doesn't speak much English and I don't speak much French, but we meet each other halfway with a inter-spiced dialogue of both languages and somehow manage to understand each other. I, for one, was delighted to be able to put phrases we learnt in class to practical use, such as "what looks good on the menu", and "you have a real job so you're paying for my $40 filet mignon." So thankful I paid attention when they were doing the chapter on "10 everyday phrases for ripping strangers off".
We were seated about 5 meters away from the table they used in Sex and the City, and I was facing Giant Buddha directly. It was a moment of pure reverie as I breathed in the essence of opulent, over-priced fake Asian food. The oddly shaped menus were dizzying to my already intoxicated brain, and I settled on the shabu shabu steak with wasabi. "Shabu shabu", as explained by my attentive waitress, meant that I had to cook the thinly sliced filet mignon in a hot-pot at my own table. I wondered if there was a DIY style for drinks too, where they can just bring me a bottle of vodka and let me mix my own creations. The wasabi was an inspired addition to the flavor of the beyond tender meat. Quite honestly one of the best meals I've had in my life.
Taking a break from my peach cosmo (peach schnapps instead of triple sec and peach juice instead of cranberry), I rested my inebriated head on the seat-back and looked up. There was a giant scroll of Chinese calligraphy decorating the ceiling, and realized that the Chinese name for Tao was "道". I explained to my Frenchie the meaning behind this restaurant's name, partly to snub him for only knowing one and a half languages. He, however, wasn't really interested or impressed and was apparently also fluent in Italian. Damn it. I was going to have to look for different ways to demean the guy paying for my dinner.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. I stumbled out of Tao with my belly filled with cosmos and steak, feeling very much satisfied. I, however, am not the kind of person who crosses things off their 'to-do' list and be done with it. I don't want to check things off and never do them again; once I discover something I want to repeat it over and over until I hate it and ruin it for myself. (Precisely why I can't enjoy rum chocolate and casual sex anymore.) Some people go, "Oh that was delightful, now I can say I've been here." No, I want to come here so often they replace Buddha with my statue.
Returning to Madison after all this excitement sure is a drag. I'm very glad I was impulsive enough to get myself to New York for a fantastic holiday trip within such short notice. I feel so much at home in NY that leaving seems crazy. Where am I going? I'm already where I have to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment