I figured that every city must have its “I only eat there when I’m on jury duty” neighborhood, maybe as ethnic as New Yorks Chinatown. And I wondered what they might be.
I heard wistfulness in his voice, as if he too longed for a slug of the good stuff, as if a little brown whiskey was what awaited him, after quitting the white-on-white confines of Vongerichten-land.
