Mint's Birthday: Putting On the Ritz

Regional
2607 Broadway
New York, NY 10025
(212) 666-1915
regionalnyc.com

Mint passed by Regional's wide open windows a week or so back and immediately dubbed it as her birthday brunch spot. The menu seemed reasonable, but Mint knew it would take more than pancakes and nice prices to draw even a few friends to the Upper West Side. Unlimited mimosa refills? Yup, that'll do it.

Joined by Ms. Reeves, Ms. Fader and Sir Hitchcock, things got off to a shaky start--ordering took forever, the mimosas were apparently stuck in weekend traffic at the bar, and the first plate to emerge from the kitchen (less than a minute after ordering, mind you) was a five-inch plate with six pieces of bacon lumped together in a hilariously disgusting log of lukewarm pork. At this point, fearing how things might possibly go worse, we called over a manager who, mimosas in hand, scowled at our bacon log, apologized, and disappeared with it into the kitchen for we assume was a little pep talk. It must have been a good one. From that point on everything was top notch.

After strolling around Central Park for a few hours (pictures above by Ms. Reeves), a squealing Mint was presented with tickets to Young Frankenstein. With curtains going up in less than two hours, it seemed like a good time to grab a light dinner. Bello Giardino more than sufficed.

The show, a Mel Brooks adaptation of his classic film starring Gene Wilder, was faithful to its silver screen forbearer (or so I'm told) and charged with plenty of tongue-in-cheek asides and sexual escapades. This is Mel Brooks, after all. The elaborate sets were changed up frequently and disappeared entirely for a rousing rendition of "Putting On the Ritz," which showcased the comically ernest vocals of a muttering, stuttering Frankenstein and a chorus of boot-clad, Franken-faced tap dancers.

The evening was capped with an obligatory candlelit cupcake, chocolate, with Entenmann's Halloween-orange frosting and candy corn. And in case you were wondering, zero trans fat.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Any place that sets a pitcher of mimosa on your table free of charge is okay in my book.

Brunch on Broadway

Serafina
210 W. 55th Street
New York, NY 10019
(212) 315-1700
serafinarestaurant.com

Bello Giardino
71 W. 71st Street
New York, NY 10023
(212) 875-1512
bellogiardino.com

MOM'S FLIGHT LANDED in Queens around 10:00 a.m., by 11:00 she was in Brooklyn, and by 1:00 p.m. we were in Manhattan sitting at the Dream Hotel's glittery Serafina restaurant, perusing the brunch menu. The whirlwind was calmed by the brunch-included Bloody Marys. And the Salmon Benedict was pretty alright too--perfectly poached clouds of egg whites and running yolk piled atop smoked salmon.

Dining with the glitterati at Serafina

Brunch at Serafina, aside from being delicious, is just a short walk down Broadway to a matinee, which was our plan for the afternoon. Kathy and Frank came down from Connecticut for the occasion, and we were joined by a few of my ma's YSU cohorts who flew out for Wicked and the weekend. Afterwards, we wandered around a nearby Street Fair before taking the subway uptown to the excellent Bello Giardino.

The hole-in-the-wall Italian join was packed this time around, and our "just in case" phone call a few hours before to make dinner reservations for seven in the garden proved prophetic. Bello Giardino's informal atmosphere rightly attracts diners reveling in its superbly fresh pastas; my tri-color gnocchi with shitake mushrooms and goat cheese was a wonderful take on the doughy Italian favorite.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Serafina is an enjoyably showy spot to take visiting friends; Bello Giardino is fast becoming a favorite.

Bello Giardino

Bello Giardino
71 W. 71st Street
New York, NY 10023
(212) 875-1512
bellogiardino.com

THE SIGN OUTSIDE claimed "Everyone is in the garden!" Admittedly, Mint and I were skeptical, but with nothing else along Columbus Avenue catching our collective eye we figured, well, why not check?

While "everyone" might not have been in the garden, we could see why everyone would want to be sitting beneath the impressive branches of Bello Giardino's hanging grape vines, munching on pasta as fresh as the bunches of grapes falling from the trellises overhead. Seriously--one cluster of green grapes crashed into the empty table next to us. Our server ran over, gathered them up and stopped to share, laughing, "Last night, there was a couple sitting here. I told them, in Italy, falling grapes are good luck."

The pasta, priced reasonably for the Upper West Side, is as fresh as the freefalling produce. My black linguine with mussels, salmon, leeks and tomatoes ($14) was unbelievably delicious, the soft green leeks and tomatoes managing to upstage even the seafood. And dessert, orange sorbet served inside the frozen rind of the fruit that bore it into this world, was the best of all possible choices for a summer evening outside. In the garden. With everyone.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: He most certainly will.