[Fredslist] "Boys' Night Out at Rao's, " The Postscript (a/k/a/ Part 4)

IrisWolinsky at aol.com IrisWolinsky at aol.com
Wed Aug 7 15:53:23 EDT 2013


David,
 
Love your Rao's reviews!  Thanks for a bunch of lol's and the  smiling 
afterglow that hopefully soothes the rest of my  workday.
 
Warmest regards,
 

 
 
 
In a message dated 8/7/2013 1:05:34 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,  
davidlaw at optonline.net writes:

 
“Boys’ Night Out  at Rao’s,” The Postscript (a/k/a/ Part 4)  
This is what has  become my annual review of Rao’s and (some of) what 
happens there at Boys’  Night Out (as Fred has coined it) on the first Tuesday 
evening of  August.  The venture is courtesy of our always gracious and 
generous  host, Fred.  My first Rao’s experience (kind of like losing one’s  
culinary and sociological virginity – I said, “kind of”) was in August 2010,  
and I wrote about it here: http://www.gothamnetworking.com/page/reviews   (By 
the way, kudos and thanks to our Gotham Webmaster for graciously  
retrieving from our former Gotham Networking website the previous years’  reviews, 
and posting them on the new Gotham site – no simple task, but readily  do-able 
for our intrepid Webmaster.  As of this writing, the 2010 and  2011 reviews 
are on the linked page already: The first edition, from 2010, is  at the 
bottom; the middle piece is by fellow Gothamite David Henry, about a  separate 
trip to Rao’s; and the 2011 edition is just above that; resurrection  of my 
2012 review is in the works.  Thanks, Mitch!) I highly recommend at  least 
a quick reading of the prior reviews – particularly the first (2010) one  -- 
as I hope not to be too redundant here.  And the 2012 edition explains  why 
we believed that last year was the “Final Chapter,” although Fred somehow  
snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, allowing us a 2013 experience,  
summarized below, as the “Postscript.”  
The three Long  Island participants take turns driving, so last evening, I 
drove the L.I.  contingent in from our secret meeting place behind Kitchen 
Kabaret in East  Hills, off Glen Cove Road, near the L.I.E. (whoops, I guess 
I revealed the  secret; that’s the only time I’ll blab in this review, I 
promise).  We  arrived early, around 6:15, and hung out on the corner outside 
Rao’s, chatting  for about 20 minutes, before repairing to the bar to 
commence libations.   Fred and the others followed soon after.  The seven of us 
(one of last  year’s eight couldn’t make it) moved from the bar to the table 
around 7:15, to  begin the repast.  The celebrants of Boys’ Night Out were 
Fred, Lonnie,  John, Odey, and three Daves (two lawyers and a doctor – a 
Jewish mother’s  dream from the 70s; nowadays she’d likely prefer a plumber, an 
electrician,  and a techie from the Geek Squad).   
It's a little  different each time at Rao’s, due to small shifts in the 
attendees, the food  and drink ordered, the atmosphere and mood.  Fred said he 
wanted to “slow  things down, make it last longer,” like a vacation that 
ends too soon. While  ordering the appetizers, he mused that before we know 
it, we'll be finishing  dessert.  For an optimist, he’s quite a  pessimist.   
Odey came up with a  new idea – he purchased three Powerball tickets: one 
QuickPick, one “good  guys” ticket and one “bad guys” ticket.  We had to 
guess the significance  of the numbers in the two latter categories – it turns 
out that they were the  uniform numbers of “good guy” baseball players 
(like Mantle, if you ignore his  penchant for over-imbibing) and “bad guy” 
baseball players (like A-Rod).   The best part?  Odey promised that if any of 
the three tickets is a  winner, the seven of us will share equally the $425 
million (or other)  winnings.  The obligation was witnessed by the entire 
table, and now is  memorialized in writing, so Odey’s on the hook for a big 
number, if we  win tonight’s drawing.  Fred hedged his  bet by also buying his 
own Lotto tix for his family.    
Speaking of  baseball, Odey also was the first one to spot fellow Rao’s 
patron Bobby  Valentine (the popular former NY Mets manager) at the table next 
to us.   While we’re stargazing, I’ll note that across the dimly-lit room, 
we also saw  Charlie Rose, or a pretty good imposter.  And there was the 
aging Mafioso  whose name shall not be mentioned and whose photograph shall not 
be  taken.  And a young woman whose tattoo “sleeve” caught Fred’s 
attention  (he mentioned it at least seven times, I think, and not necessarily in  
complimentary fashion; more like,  WTF?).  And at the table on the other side 
of ours, there were four (dare  I say aging?) women, to whom Fred explained 
“Boys’ Night Out” and analogized  their event to ours (nice try, Fred).  
And if my wife reads this, yes  dear, they were much, much, much older than 
you and your friends.    
Ribald humor was,  as usual, part of the order of the evening.  I could 
tell you some of the  jokes and the conversation, but then I’d have to kill 
you.  Or my wife  might snuff me while I sleep.  Or Joanne might “off” Fred.  
This is  why what happens at Rao’s on Boys’ Night Out, stays at Rao’s.  
Fred, you  can thank me later.  
Always the  consummate host, as soon as we ordered, Fred was concerned that 
we might not  have ordered enough food.  As if that were possible.  Yes, we 
shared  only two bottles of wine this time (which made the drive home safe 
and  easy).  Yes, we did order less food than previous times – no, Fred, 
that  doesn’t make us dainty women; rather, it makes us a bit more conscious, 
in  several respects.  Everything is family-style, so you can decide how much 
 or little to glom onto your plate.  I left feeling very satisfied, but  
not in pain, like the first time.  So I think we did indeed “slow it  down.”  
We ordered the following, and it all was very good: Appetizers:  seafood 
salad (always excellent), fresh mozzarella (out-of-this-world silky  and 
delicious) and tomato, baked clams (top-notch).  Pasta course:  
sausage-orchiette-broccoli rabe-garlic (a favorite!), penne filetto (that’s a  nice-a), 
ethereal meatballs.  Main course: veal (tender) and steak (the  latter was much 
better than in previous years, when candidly it’d been the low  point of the 
meal).  Dessert: tartufo and chocolate, amazing raspberry, vanilla ice 
creams.   Double espressos.  And the house always buys our table an after-dinner  
Frangelico, Limoncello, Sambuca, or other drink.  
I’d brought along a  bottle of Fernet Branca for after the meal.  If you don
’t know what it  is, Google it (it’s an unusual 90 proof digestive aid 
that some say has  magical properties, a favorite among bartenders, and 
definitely is an acquired  taste, unless you enjoy medicinal herbal booze).  I felt 
compelled to  share and turn on the assemblage to this controversial 
beverage, and I even  distributed a brief fact-sheet about it (so shoot me, I’m a 
lawyer).   BTW, Lonnie actually already was a fan of Fernet Branca – I think 
one would be  hard-pressed to introduce Lonnie to anything he doesn’t 
already know  about!   
Rao’s generally  doesn't accept checks....so guess how Fred paid?  
Lonnie drove Fred  home; during the ride, Fred called Dr. Dave every few 
minutes (mostly  intentionally, but several times by “pocket-dialing” him).  
I couldn’t  hear Dave’s speakerphone well, but it sounded like Fred either 
was feigning or  genuinely concerned that Lonnie was taking him to parts 
unknown (perhaps to  imbibe further) rather than home (as Fred’s bedtime was 
approaching).    
If I never get to  go to Rao’s again, I’ve had four great, but each time 
slightly different,  experiences.  If I do get to go again, I’ll try to make 
my review a bit  shorter.  
Best  regards,  
David   
Gotham  L.I.  
David J.  Abeshouse 
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