Tuesday, May 3, 2011

an afternoon in queens (lyn)

Sil and I met a few years ago when we worked together on the school benefit.  She has a daughter at Horace Mann, a lovely husband, and is Brazilian.  We don’t get together often enough, so when we spoke last week and she suggested lunch, I immediately said yes.

Sil picks me up around 12:30 and we drive to Astoria Queens.  Over the 59th Street Bridge and only 15 minutes away, yet I could be in another country.  It's that different.

Sil has suggested we eat here because she knows of a great little Brazilian restaurant. We park the car and on the short walk to the restaurant, pass an Entenmann’s Outlet.  I suggest going in as I love their black and white cookies (4 points each).  The rows of tables that are set up are covered with fattening things.  Pound cakes.  Chocolate covered donuts.  Apple strudel.  And raspberry danish.  Everything looks good, so I ask one of the salespeople how these poor pastries got relegated to a baked-goods outlet.  “There's something wrong with them and they'd be rejected in a regular store.”  She probably could use some better training as a sales person.  I translate her explanation to mean bad-tasting.  Or stale.  But no.  “It’s food that falls slightly over or under the designated weight.  Or, food that doesn’t look good.”  Before I can picture ugly-looking donuts, the salesperson points to a few pieces as examples.  “See, look at this.  The chocolate-chip loaf is missing some chocolate.  Or here, the powered sugar from the top of this cake has gotten on the clear, inside cover.”  Now I get it.  So when my favorite black and white cookies end up here, maybe the chocolate and vanilla are not distributed equally.  I’m impressed with Entenmann’s quality control.  

We leave empty-handed and go to lunch at Brasilia Ville Grill.  It’s a cozy place where everyone except me is speaking Portuguese.  I like its feel of authenticity.  There is a pay-by-weight buffet with all sorts of unfamiliar, but delectable-looking dishes.  And in the back is a grill where you can order chicken, pork sausage, or various kinds of beef.  I stack my plate with a few pieces of top-quality rare sirloin, some tomatoes, a little bit of corn, and a single grilled potato in the shape of a giant french fry.  This is not my typical lunch.

Two hours fly by.  The food and company are excellent.  The bill for the two of us (including tax, there is no tip) is $20.  And this other world is only a few subway stops away.  

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