83 1/2

Before my mom even arrives, I pick a restaurant for her last night here.  She likes Italian, and would prefer nearby.  I find a new restaurant in the area with rave reviews.   Its clever name, 83 ½, makes it easy to remember its location — 83^rd Street between First and Second. 

My mom likes to eat early, so I make a reservation for 6:45. At six, my mom and Alexander are starving.  Alexander wants to go out for a slice of pizza before dinner and my mom is dressed and ready to go.  I call the restaurant and ask if we can come early. They say no problem.

We get to the restaurant and it is totally empty.  6:30 is early.  It is summer.  And many people do leave the city on a Friday night.  But still.  The total absence of other diners is jarring, but at least the noise level will be low.  

The wait staff is solicitous and helpful.  We open the menu.  There are five entrees.  I think everyone wants to leave at this point, but we know we can't just sneak out.  

It is not embarrassing to ask for a photo; there are no other diners to offend.

But the food is excellent.  Alexander proclaims his flank steak as the best he’s ever had.  It is marinated in a balsamic vinegar and is truly outstanding.  So are the appetizers and bread.  We skip dessert.

By the time we leave, around 7:45, the restaurant is starting to fill up.  I know my mom would have preferred a busier place with a larger menu.  The diner we ate at the other night had both.