Went with a couple of my friends to the opening of Sons of Essex last night, a deli-fronted restaurant in the former spot that used to house everyone's favorite depressing mechanical bull bar, Mason Dixon. The decor in the new place is a little in-your-face old timey like a saloon restaurant at Six Flags, but the cornbread they started us off with was so mindblowingly good that I'd happily eat it in a back alley filled with rats if that was the only table they had available. Crispy, cheesy, buttery — the salmon was a salty winner, the pail of pickles was great and the artichoke dip was mediocre at best, but that greasy little cast iron container was so unprecedentedly good it was difficult to comprehend. Possibly because I was finally able to drink after two weeks of sucking down antibiotics instead of tiny cups of whiskey.
Finished the night up with a trip to the Jane Hotel for The Naked And Famous' afterparty. People holding clipboards and asking me my name in an accusatory manner terrify me, so I won't pretend I'm cool enough to get past the ladies'-hat-wearing man working the door on regular nights, but spending the evening up top with an open bar and a '90s soundtrack full of the jams you actually love instead of Spice Girls' #1 hits was the perfect place to be on a painfully cold night.