It no joke took until 10:48 this morning for me to realize that last night at dinner, we not only ordered a round of bread topped with chicken liver mousse, but liked it so much that we ordered another one immediately after. I've clearly picked up on my parents' favorite trick of asking cab drivers in other countries where they like to eat lunch, because we never would have combined the words "delicious" with "chicken liver mousse bruschetta" without the waiter promising us it's his favorite on the menu. But, big ups to my pals Rene and Perry for encouraging what we were all thinking and following through on it: More. Mousse. Now.
Frankly, whipped organs aren't really that delightful of a concept to me in theory — i mean, they're whipped organs we're talking about here — but more surprising was the fact that the chicken wasn't the "best I've ever had in my life." You lie, Nathan Followill! You lie. I will say that it's a big ol' bird for one person, and most of it was quite good, but Thomas Keller-good? Unfortunately, nahhhh.
Maybe I'm just embittered because the kitchen refuses to pair ketchup with their gigantic, crusty, poofy fried potatoes to the point that the staff received an e-mail with approved condiments they can serve — mustard is a yes, but squeezy tomato plops are a no? — but the ribs were excellent, making me regret listening to a drummer's stomach. What do they know anyway, besides keeping the beat? Well, how to maintain a successful career and write a solid radio hit, I suppose. Alright, agree to disagree.
For those too lazy to read...
Where: Barbuto, West Village, home of fame-o chef Jonathan Waxman
How to do it: Order that organ mousse bruschetta, split the chicken and ribs with whoever you're there with, and trust me, BYOHeinz.
A Heads Up: Make sure to bring a coat. The whole restaurant is open, and a jacket can perfectly hide one of those cutiepie tiny bottles of tomato goodness. Win-win!