On a recent Friday night, my friend, Jeff, and I did a mini-version of my favorite activity: Quest For Food. We strolled along the Third Street Promenade deciding just which dining establishment to grace with our presence. Unfortunately for us, we chose Locanda Del Lago.
It seemed good enough to the naked eye. We chose to sit at the high bar, looking into the open kitchen. (Jeff’s choice, not mine; I like my food to just magically appear, and not watch the work that goes into the preparation.)
It was late, so we ordered just salad and pizza. We’re major fans of the kinds we ordered and were terribly disappointed by both dishes. The Caesar Salad was just okay. I actually had a far better one from Domino’s recently! Who knew?!
I judge new-style Italian restaurants by their Pizza Margheritas. And, early in the evening, Jeff had mentioned that he loved them. So, we were both drooling to get ours. While even the previous worst one was okay, this was just strange. It should have been called Chopped Garlic and Tomato on a Cracker. It was edible, but had no right to be in the category of Pizza Margherita.
When we inquired about it before ordering, the waitress had said it was great. (Some of you will say, “She works there. What did you expect?” But I appreciate waitpeople who give an honest opinion, especially if they know that you’ll be disappointed.) While we were working on it, she came by and asked, “How’s your pizza?’’ Being honest myself, I replied, “A little weird.” She said, “Okay, great” and walked away.
I pointed that out to Jeff, who said, “It was just a rhetorical question. In other words, she wasn’t looking for trouble.” I thought that was so funny that it was worth it to have eaten an awful “pizza.”
Locanda Del Lago 231 Arizona Ave. SM (Map)
And lastly, Happy Birthday (Aug. 29) to two men I've known since my formative years,
Elliott Gould, who may be a tad hard to understand, but is well worth the effort, and
Richard Kearney, my technical theater professor at Brooklyn College (the 1st of 4), (colleges, not professors) whom I now wish I hadn’t dated, so maybe I would have paid attention to learning lighting and could look good on my show instead of having an “A” in the class. Pay attention, college girls!
Now, I’m sure I love you all, but please no one bother me until after the US Open!