A Groupon for Roxy Cafe

Twenty years ago, ten years ago, probably three years ago Plotnik would have disenjoyed last night's dinner immensely. He is not all that fond of large plates bearing small food, nor with waiters who insist on informing the world where they source their mizuna and baby arugula and whose kumquat tree grew that teensy, round piece of citrus next to the organic Malaysian guava. He has never enjoyed waiting a long time for his food, and when the portions are extremely small, and the wait time between all the courses is extremely large, the Old Plot would have probably blown out an earlobe by Course Three.

And God help us if The Chief had been there: soup, fury and back to the car.

The difference maker is that the food at Roxy Cafe is REALLY GOOD. That little kumquat, that Malaysian guava, the blood orange vinaigrette on the greens, that spinach-potato-leek broth, and the two two-bite ravioli stuffed with some kind of delicious buttery squash were all first class. Then, the wait for the last course was the longest of all, but it turned out to be the best fettucini bolognese ever. EVER. 

The Groupon only covered four courses but Plot and Duck were still hungy so they split a dessert, which was of course made to order, DUH. Zzzzzzzzz--wake up! It's here! And it was terrific -- a Venezuelan sweet arepa with white corn, guayabana ice cream and mango sorbet and toasted pumpkin seeds and some other tiny things also, sourced no doubt at the freaking Fountain of Youth.

"Hello, I'm Ponce de Leon. I'll be your waiter tonight. I am 900 years old. And I still haven't gotten my Course Six."

Because of the Groupon, the tab was only for the dessert, plus a buck and a half for a tall can of Miller Genuine Draft that Plottie bought at the corner convenience store.(OK, he admits he bought a can of Miller's instead of something fancier because he figured Chef Manny Gimenez needed to see someone walk in with a lowbrow can instead of an artisan bottle.) Plot left a hefty tip, which you have to do, because you used up a lot of Ponce's evening, sitting in your chair for twenty minutes at a time of  thumb-diddling waiting followed by forty five seconds of enthusiastic slurping.

So Plot is going with this summary: he is maturing. Great food sometimes takes a long time, especially when the chef makes, like, ten Course Twos at a time and then moves on to Course Threes, and if you're only on Course One you wait until he gets back to make ten more Course Ones.

His question is: would that dinner have been as good if it had all arrived on one plate, and took fifteen minutes to eat and then we were done? No. Taking a long time over dinner is a good thing. God, please don't strike me dead, but the food tasted better because of it. 

Plot is seeing himself today as The Smartest Man In the World. Sophisticated. Cool. And to prove it, he drinks Miller Genuine Draft.