evening with my mom

My mom is leaving tomorrow, so tonight we are having dinner at Atlantic Grill.  I have been there many times, as it is always reliable and good.  We make a 6:30 reservation.

Normally I’d leave at 6:20 or so, as it is a quick walk from my apartment.  But next to my mother’s biggest fear of being caught in a snowstorm while driving, a close second is her fear of being late, for anything. She wants to leave my house at 6, but I convince her that leaving at 6:15 is more than enough time.

At 6:12, I am at my computer in my bedroom, and my mother comes in.  Coat zipped.  Gloves on.  Ready to go. She looks at me alarmed and says, “Why aren’t you ready?  We have to leave!”  “I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes,” I tell her.  Not good enough.  She leaves and I tell her I’ll meet her there.

I catch up with her on Third Avenue and we make it to the empty restaurant (few eat out here at 6:30).

We are seated at a round corner table.  My mom gets the three-course $35 prix fixe, which is available from 5 to 7. If you can eat this early, it is an amazing value. Unfortunately, the seared black-and-blue tuna I always get here (it is that good) is not part of the prix fixe. 

My mother’s taste in food is unlike mine.  She favors deli.  She’s often “dying for a hot pastrami sandwich.”  She loves southern Italian, especially Tony’s shrimp parmigiana, which I have to admit, is pretty outstanding. Greek is always good.  And of course, she can always “go for” Chinese.  My mom’s not a big steak eater, and when she does order it, it has to be prepared well done.  Fish is not her thing either, but the swordfish she has tonight measures up.

Everything is excellent.  At the end of the meal my mother comments, “This is one of the best meals I’ve ever had in New York.”   And my mother has eaten at a lot of nice restaurants here. 

We come home and finish up our gin game (which she of course wins).  I set my alarm for six, so she’ll have enough time to make her nine a.m. bus tomorrow.  I don’t bother telling her it only takes a half hour to get to Port Authority.  She knows that.  But what if it snows?  Or there’s traffic?  Or she can’t find a cab?  She’ll probably leave here at 6:30, rather than risk being late.  I say nothing; there’s no point.

It’s been a great visit.  I’m glad my mom is free to now come more often.  She loves walking the city streets.  And who knows, maybe next time we’ll go to a Jewish Deli for a late lunch and then skip dinner. I know that would make her very happy.