the breslin.

line of the night

"i could've told you that she was a patel"...




the breslin, part of the same group as the spotted pig, smelled heavenly when we walked in.  pork pork and pork.  i had already checked out the menu before heading out and was quite excited for innards of pork.  so i put my face on and hurriedly scampered up a few blocks thinking i'd eat within the half hour.  what really happened was that we arrived at 7.30 with no reservations BECAUSE THEY DON'T TAKE RESERVATIONS and opted to wait the 1h45min suggested wait time because our hunger was mezmerized by the smell of pig compounded with the fact that we believed bribing a few dollars to the asian woman in the front would decrease our wait time to under an hour.  1 drink turned into 3...and 3 drinks turned into 5.  we easily waited over 1h45m being that lax was continually being sent back to our standing area because his testy boyish charm didn't win over anyone, rather forced us to order another round and an order of fries.  we eventually got seated, but not before befriending multiple groups of people next to us because as we casually passed around our blackberry's and iphones with pictures of naked women, the people around us casually looked over and saw us staring at naked girls.  "whoa is that your girlfriend?"..."nice pictures..."...it probably also didn't help our reputation while we tossed the words 'tits, ass, strippers' above the bar noise.  but that's how we  made new friends, the way anyone in new york would prefer to meet new people.  would you prefer the generic approach of us to asking your name?  and what you do for a living?  and talk about the weather?  we made friends with the bartender in a similar fashion, who had on cute outfit showing off her perky topside and tight behind with a white vneck, suspenders, and black jeans.  she eventually gave us free drinks.  cuz after a 5 hour meal...she said "u guys have been here forever.  here u go!"

man.  english pub fare is heavy.  really really heavy.  and the pigs foot is delicious.  so is the scotch egg. 





 
it once again needs to be stated that a dinner with lax is once again not just a dinner.  it's always nothing short of an ordeal.  from the process of choosing a variety of dining establishments, to the heavy debate over IM, SMS and phone conversation of actual restaurant selection, to "what are YOU drinking?", to the actual ordering of the meal...it in short, is always an ordeal...turned fiasco.  however, due to the nature of pubfare, ordering was a bit simpler this time.  LETS GET IT ALL!  pork scratchings, scotch egg, bone marrow soup (which is a staple when it comes to a dinner with lax), caesar salad, pork belly and pigs foot. for the record, i wanted the poussin but we got pigs foot instead.  and the pig foot, which was argued before its arrival that it was probably some stuffed pig roulade in the form of a foot, turned out to be an actual pig HOOF stuffed to capacity where the upper portion was oozing ground pork...while the tendon-y cartilage-y gelatinous knuckles remained in tact to scare even the most american foodie, ie lax.  the knuckles were the best part.  and it was fully deep fried in the same manner as the scottish egg.  that was little disconcerting but...it was nothing good conversation and another round of drinks couldn't overcome.

i might have mentioned we made friends with our pictures of naked women...but it seemed that we also found a way to meet friends with our order of food.  "what is that???!!@?#" they asked.  "WHOA, can i have some?"..."U GOTTA TRY SOME"...."here u go."...."where are u from?"....and that led to a patel.  which was later followed by..."i could've told you that she was a patel" kekekekeke.