Dear Feastlings,
You know, it still appears to me as if something is gumming up the works. As sure as we were that we’d be getting in eel for today, we got a phone call Saturday saying that it was unlikely to happen. In the interest of having some lovely seafood on the menu tonight, we negotiated an emergency order of branzino, that Mediterranean sea bass that everyone seems to adore, and said that, as reservations were filling up for tonight, we thought it best to have forty orders ready and waiting to stuff. Our seafood guy told me that each serving would average 8 ounces, so 20 pounds were ordered and that’s what showed up today.
Unfortunately, he was telling me that each fillet would be 8 ounces, which meant that each fish was about a pound. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it turns out that instead of having forty servings at the ready, we have twenty, which means I’m already preparing myself for what abuse will be heaped upon me for running out of fish tonight, and while the branzino is nearly as Italian as the eel we were meant to get, the trout we’ll likely be getting this afternoon because there’s nothing else to be had will be decidedly less Italian.
That said, we’ll have pizza and pasta, saltimbocca and panna cotta. There’ll be panzanella, too, and a secret stash of Tiramisu that we didn’t put on the menu because I knew we’d be read the riot act when we ran out, which we invariably do, even when we overprep. So those of you who bothered to read today’s email will have a leg up over those who don’t, at least.
And MAYBE some fish, of one sort or another. Though in the time since I’ve left the computer, our rep has already called to say tough luck on virtually everything on the fish front.
I’ll nip off to get more pizzas stretched out now, and let you get back to your own day, but if you find yourself peckish between now and 8:00, we may still have a seat or two available for you and your loved ones who can’t make it to a beach today (like the entire population of Italy,) to come in and celebrate Ferragosto the way we do around here: with Italian food and drink.
I’m hoping to make it through this day myself and tipple a little something Italian myself at the end of the evening. Then we’ll return to our new normal tomorrow, and plan on a wine tasting on Saturday with Cory- the prodigal sommelier returns this week and I couldn’t be happier.
I’ll sleep like nobody’s business this Sunday, so if you have my number, please don’t call me. Let me quietly snooze while Cory does all the ordering.
Ciao, belli.
Il vostro amico,
Doug