Why Don't We D-Do It in the Back Seat?

A Columbus High School teacher named Beth Reis is helping some of her students get a campaign going.  She says two of her students almost died in a motor vehicle accident, because they were in the back seat of the car, and they were not wearing seat belts.  Apparently, wearing seat belts for back seat passengers is not required in Florida.

Her students are trying to get 10K signatures to present to the State Congress.

Here's the petition.  Go for it.

http://doitinthebackseat.com/

OMG, If Such a Thing Existed. What a Deal!!! Be Careful Before You Pass This Up.

I have mentioned before an experience called musimelange.  It's an evening of gourmet food, exceptional wine, and amazing chamber music.  The setting is a place called the M Building at 194 NW 30th Street.  It's a very intimate setting, much as if you were in someone's house.  I think it is a house.  It occurs about four times a year.  The next musimelange evening is this coming Monday, March 7, at 7:30 PM.

The price per admission is $65 per person, if you pay at the door.  It's $55, if you buy online.  If you buy the whole season, as I do, it's $50 per evening.

musimelange just sent out a notice for March 7.  For whatever reason, they're offering a unique deal for this one concert.  It's "BOGOF," or two admissions for the price of one, if you sign up and pay online.  So it's admission for two people to gourmet food, high end wine, and a very intimate chamber concert, all for $55.  $27.50 per person for something which, in my opinion, is easily worth the $65 per person pay-at-the-door price.  You will never forget this evening.

That's the deal.  If you care, the musicians are the concertmaster for the Naples (Fla) Symphony, a guitarist, and a locally famous jazz bass player.  The food will be provided by Riviera Focacceria Italiana, and the wine will come from B&G.

Personally, I think you'd be crazy not to take instant advantage of this amazing opportunity.  If you do, go to www.musimelange.com, and use promotional code 447 769.  As I said, think very carefully before you let this get away.

See you there.


PS: This is the program.  The title of the evening is "Scent of a Woman."

What

musimelange is celebrating the women through Jazz, Monday March 7, 2016 at 7:30pm at the M Building beautifully located at the Wynwood Art District.

 

Discover the "Scent of a woman" during three enchanting acts.

 

Act 1: Chef Riccardo from Riviera Focacceria Italiana  will serve his famousFocaccia di Reccho, a dish that can only be enjoyed at a handful of restaurants nationwide; homemade Gnocchi with Pesto, using the original recipe from the source; and bites of freshly prepared Polpo Riviera to satisfy your palate. All bites will be paired with a fine selection of wines* from ​Barton&Guestier.

 

Act 2: Entirely dedicated to Jazz and offer a very special performance with remarkable pieces from the standard jazz repertoire. The Concertmaster of the Naples Symphony, Glenn Basham will present his Jazz String Trio: String Therorywith guitarist Randall Dollahon and bassist Jamie Ousley.

 

​Act 3: The artists will join the guests as they all enjoy a sweet selection* presented by Riviera Focacceria Italiana.  Sinfully delicious creations by Chef Riccardo Vinci include their notoriously unrivaled Panna Cotta and exceptionally unique Pistachio Mousse.

Call Off the Dogs. This is NOT About Donald Trump. Per Se.

It's amazing how far you can go, if you just tell people what they want to hear.  And the less legitimate are their ideas, the more gratified they are to hear you support them.  You can tell people the wackiest stuff, but if you're speaking their language, so to speak, they'll think you're a genius, and that you have their very best interests at heart.

I saw on my homepage today the most delicious juxtaposition.  There was one article about how Donald Trump had some black college students escorted out of one of his rallies.  They were shown the door, because they were black.  They were doing nothing but standing at the back of the room, listening, and they were completely cooperative with being ejected.  One of them commented that it was Trump's private party, and he could have whatever guests he wanted.  They were there legitimately, having acquired perfectly normal entry passes, but they understood that this was Trump's bash.

The other article was regarding the sentencing of some then teenagers (caucasian) who, in 2011, had rampaged through a neighboring black county of Mississippi, assaulting black people.  They finally got caught and apprehended not only because the proximate victim died, but because the incident was caught on security video tape.  The grandmother of one of the perps made little headway with her argument that her darling grandson was "not racist" and would never have done such a thing.  Normally.  She might have conceded that there could have been some alcohol involved.  The videotape disqualified every part of her argument.

But really, what gorgeous synergy.  Caucasian roughs assaulting and murdering black people, because they were black people, Donald Trump extruding rally-goers, because they were black people, and "The Donald" telling his angry audience more or less anything in the world they want to hear.

And why would Trump sink so low?  Because he gets what he wants.  It's not the money for Trump.   He doesn't need it.  It's the adulation, from who cares whom.  It's reinforcement of the concept Trump already has: that he's just "all that."  The fact is, Trump seems not to like people.  He just uses them, to get whatever else he wants.  And if today, they think he's just wonderful, some sort of savior, the only one who really understands them and wants them to have what they want, that's exactly what he wants.  And he'll take it.  Shamelessly.

He'll promise them what's not his to promise, and he'll reassure them that their basest desires are perfectly reasonable.  It is, as I say, spectacular synergy.  The people pretend to get what they want, and Trump gets what he wants.  They get it from each other.

And if--oh, no-- Donald Trump happens not to get the Republican nomination for President, or if he gets it, but he doesn't win the election, he and his supporters can all feel cheated, and as if someone colluded to deprive them of their due fulfillment.

A Dog Park, Nipping at Our Heels Again

Apparently, there's been some talk among participants of Nextdoor Biscayne Park, regarding a dog park in Biscayne Park.  For whatever reason, two people have brought it to my attention, and neither has a clear memory of the dog park in BP story.  So here's the most recent of it.

I moved here in the middle of 2005.  Not long after that, and apparently already ongoing, there was public discussion of a dog park here.  The spokesman/ringleader was John Ise, who eventually moved to Miami Shores.  I see him at one place or another from time to time.  Anyway, John represented a small(?) group of BP residents who wanted a dog park in the Park, and somehow, John was proposing to raise money to create one.  I'm told, by the way, that this effort was not the first here.

It's unclear to me what the money was intended for, unless it was to erect necessary fences, or maybe create a water supply, too.  In any event, John and his partners did not succeed in raising the money, and the issue receded.  There was an appeal to the then Commission, presumably for permission to establish such a park, if the funding was successful, and the Commission did not disagree.

A few years later, when I was on the Foundation, we were talking about possible goals for fund-raising-- that is, possible special projects and Village enhancements for which we could raise money-- and the matter of a dog park was reintroduced.  John and his family had already moved to MSV by then, so he himself was not a principal advocate.  A couple of other people were, though, but I can't remember who they were.

The Foundation accepted this project, and we agreed that this would be our stated fund-raising goal.  First, though, we had to specify where this dog park was to be.  We needed a specific site, for advertising and interest-inducing purposes, and we needed to know how large a proposed site would be, so we would know how much fencing, for example, we would have to buy.

We had some meetings, very open to the public, to entertain ideas as to where a dog park could be installed.  One proposal was the triangle bordered by Griffing Boulevard, 6th Avenue, and 15th Street.  It's the area known as Griffing Park, and it's where two sculptures now are.  We had doubts about that spot, because of concern regarding access.  It would be a bit treacherous to walk there, and there wasn't a good and ready place to park.  We were also concerned that a dog park in that part of the Park, where our grandest entrance is, might not be attractive.  So we dismissed that site as a possibility.

There were also, at the time, two vacant lots either of which the Foundation could have purchased to convert into a dog park.  And there are several large medians in various places in the Village.  We could have converted one of those into a dog park.  These were the kinds of sites we considered.

Before we could take the idea to the Commission, for approval, we had to choose a particular site.  This consideration was what the open meetings were for, apart from confirming that there was enthusiasm enough for the concept.

The Foundation discovered something interesting.  Several BP residents wanted there to be a dog park here, in the Park.  They said they would like to walk or drive their dog(s) to such a park.  But not one BP resident would agree to have a dog park next to his or her house, including in the median in his or her street.

That's where the last consideration of a dog park in BP died.  Great idea, love it, but "NIMBY"



PS: There are no more empty lots here.  Well, maybe there's still one near the top of Griffing, but it no longer has a for sale sign on it.  The Foundation could never have raised enough money to buy a house lot anyway.

Late Again. I Don't Know Why I Bother to Get Out of Bed in the Morning. Aldi. And Tim Tierney.

I have overlooked Aldi.  I watched it being built.  Roxy Ross told me it was a nice and interesting grocery store.  I saw Aldi in Massachusetts.  Very recently, Tim Tierney told me in detail about the deals at Aldi.  Yesterday, I finally decided to drop in.  Aldi is a strange, interesting, advantageous place to shop.  Or to look.

Aldi is set up almost like a big box store, except it's very small.  It's a lot of boxes of things, and prices are tenuously, and seemingly temporarily, displayed.  There are many off brands, some likely to be unfamiliar store brands.  And prices are very low, just as Tim said they were.  A bag of potato chips is about $1.50 for the usual size, the one that costs $2.50 on sale at Publix.  Berries (blue, black, and rasp) are under $2.  Hass avocados are 79 cents, if you buy them individually, or $1.99 for a bag of three.  The best price at Publix is $1.00 each on sale.  At Costco, it's about the same, or maybe 80 cents each, if you buy a bag.  Several of the wines were $4.99 or less.  I asked one shopper if she had bought wine there, since that's what she was shopping when I was there.  Yes, she confirmed, and the $4.99 Malbec was excellent, according to her.

I couldn't identify the clientele.  Many of them look like the people who shop at President supermarket on 125th Street.  One guy was wearing a hot pink wig of women's-looking hair, he had his toenails painted bright red, he was wearing a very colorful print "top," and he had tattoos up his neck.  Another guy, with a long ponytail, was way more friendly, and outspoken/loud, than was necessary in a grocery store, and he let me know that the pastries were highly addictive.  The pastries-- cookies, croissants, and similar pastries,-- by the way, were very cheap.  My new friend declared them to be very tasty.

I decided to make an introductory purchase.  I settled on five avocados and three bottles of wine.  I got the avocados individually, because the individual ones seemed to be larger than the ones combined in bags.  I needed three more bottles of wine like a hole in the head.  No, wait, I need a hole in the head more than I need three more bottles of wine.  But so be it.  I want to know how good these $4.99 bottles of wine are.  If you're as curious as I am, come over, and let's share one.  I have no idea how I'm going to get through all the wine.  I hope my children are adventurous about their inheritance.

You might want to bring your own bag to Aldi.  The alternative is you pay them 10 cents per plastic bag, 6 cents per paper bag, or you buy their reusable canvas bag for $1.99. Or you can buy a reusable canvas bag from Publix for 99 cents.

My other recent failing was in overlooking Tim Tierney.  I decided to explore impact-resistant windows.  I have accordion shutters, but Chuck and Roxy Ross have reassured me that their new impact resistant windows are much better.  They do not have to be manipulated in order to work, as accordion shutters do, they block temperature transfer, thereby lowering the electric bill, and they block lots of noise.  I got one estimate several months ago, but it was much more than I was willing to pay.  Someone working in the neighborhood came to my door soliciting a week or so ago, I accepted a visit to provide an estimate, and that estimate was significantly lower than the first.  So I agreed.  I didn't see how I could do better.

I was telling this to Chuck Ross, when he suggested I ask Tim Tierney.  I knew Tim did this kind of work in the past, but I thought he had transferred himself to a different business.  That's why I never asked him in the first place.  Because Chuck thought Tim was still in the impact-resistant window business, I contacted Tim.  Tim came by, and he sent me an estimate a few days later.  I calculated this would work, because I had three days to cancel the other contract.  But the windows Tim proposed to install were not the same as those of the other company (FHA Home-Improvement Associates), and FHA insisted their windows were better than the ones Tim suggested.  I got back to Tim about this, and I asked him for an estimate using the other windows.  Tim did not, by the way, disagree that the other windows were good.  And the other windows have twice the warrantee.  Eventually ("eventually" becomes the operative word), Tim got me an estimate for the same windows that FHA recommended.  The price was about half of what FHA charges.  I could give you FHA's explanation, but as best I can read between the lines, it's a bunch of song and dance and misrepresentation. And they invoked the "we've already ordered your windows [it's past your three-day window to cancel]" clause, so I'm stuck overpaying them.  I missed out on a chance to contract with Tim.  FHA tell me I'll be very happy with their product and their work.  I have no doubt this is true.  But I also think I would have been very happy with Tim's product and work, and I would have saved a great deal of money.  So if you want impact-resistant windows, call Tim at 954-391-9725 or 305-443-7160.  As a frame of reference, Tim has bought, renovated, and sold at least a couple of houses in BP, and the results of his work are very, very impressive.

The Death of Antonin Scalia

It's been news all week, but I just heard more of the story on NPR.  I don't mean the story of Scalia's death.  I mean the story of his recent life, the connections he formed, and some of the reaction to his death.

Part of the reaction to Scalia's death has come from quarters like John Boehner, recent Speaker of the House of Representatives, and Mitch McConnell in the Senate.  A number of conservatives feel the way Boehner and McConnell say they do.  According to Boehner, President Obama will not, or certainly should not, be allowed to choose the next occupant of Scalia's seat on the Supreme Court.

Interestingly, though, Nina Totenberg, in talking to a range of people, including other conservatives, and even conservative Federal Judges, learned that the latter tended to consider it a big problem not to fill Scalia's seat, and as quickly as possible.  Their concern was for the best functioning of the Supreme Court.  People like Boehner and McConnell appear much more concerned with political maneuvering, and their tactics would jeopardize the Court, and the country, in favor of partisan posturing.

In talking about Scalia, Totenberg told us what we already knew.  Scalia was a very outgoing man.  He had friends everywhere.  Among fast and true friends was Ruth Ginsburg, just to take one example.  As Totenberg put it, Scalia had a gift for friendship.  He was as catholic as he was Catholic (very much of each) and very democratic though not at all Democratic.  As Totenberg also put it, Scalia felt that a life devoted to anger was a waste of time.

It's a shame to lose sight entirely of the big picture, because some get caught up in defending a theory, or a piece of a theory, or just the totem or the mascot that is associated with one facet of a piece of a theory.  People who do that lose the human interaction part of the process.  They lose the connection to the people who are supposedly represented by the theory, at least in theory.

There's no denying that Scalia was a smart man.  Apparently, lots of people liked him very much, too.  I, for one, don't miss him.  Whatever he brought some people through his gift for friendship, he took away from others through his strict interpretation of the Constitution, which, according to Totenberg's summary, he did not consider a "living document."

I wonder if it was a dilemma for him: trying to defend a document that he considered not alive, when doing so compromised people who were.  It's a dilemma for me, when I balance overall welfare against the needs or wishes of individuals.

Ni.Do. Caffe (Not Neato)

Harvey Bilt and I were talking restaurants a week or two ago.  He mentioned some I hadn't yet tried, and the new installation of Ni.Do. Caffe was among them.  I've been to the other Ni.Do. Caffe, on Biscayne at about 73rd Street, but I hadn't yet visited Ni.Do. Secundo (If you haven't seen the movie "Big Night," you should), at the old North 110/Tunky-Tunky (Biscayne at 110th).  Why Ni.Do. Caffe wants a second store just a few miles up the same street is a mystery.

I suggested Harvey blog these (Ni.Do. Secundo and Pinch) himself, but he didn't want to.  So I figured I'd leave it for some future time.  That time came last night, 2/14/16.  It was Valentine's Day, my companion and I had just been to a Seraphic Fire concert (amazing) at South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center, and we needed dinner plans.  We were supposed to meet friends of mine in Ft Lauderdale, but the restaurant we chose jacked up the prices for Valentine's Day, and my friends don't eat that late anyway.

My companion and I decided on a plan of our own.  We bypassed Pollos Y Jarras in downtown Miami, in favor of Zaika on NE 123rd St.  We called ahead, to be sure they were open.  They told us they were.  What they didn't tell us until we got there was that there was a 40 minute wait, which at that time of day was not of interest.  So we thought of Pinch.  If Harvey wasn't going to blog it (he and Vicki like it), I figured I would.  Oddly, Pinch seemed to be open when we passed it first, but they didn't answer the phone when we called, and online said they were closed.  Maybe they were hosting a private party.  It was getting later, Ni.Do. Secundo was nearby, and they said they were open, so we decided to swing that way.  We had just had Italian food for dinner the night before, but what the hell, Italians have Italian food for dinner every day.

We got to Ni.Do. Caffe around 8:00.  They asked if we had reservations.  This struck me as an odd question, since they had many vacant tables, inside and outside, but no, we did not.  It was even more odd when the maitre d' seemed to give great consideration to what to do with us.  He could have made a sweeping gesture with his hand, and told us to sit wherever we liked.

We were seated at a very small table, not genuinely big enough for two people, and we were presented with menus.  I'm not sure whether it was portentous, but the menu informed us that "Ni.Do." stands for Niente Domani, or "There is no tomorrow."

There may be no tomorrow, but there are apparently two Ni.Dos., and they're related.  It turns out the owner of Ni.Do. Caffe hired a second chef, and the new one is from a different part of Italy.  He has his own preferred recipes, and the owner lets each chef cook however he wants.  He seems to have given each chef his own restaurant.  They're the same idea, but different.  Ni.Do. Secundo seemed more casual than Ni.Do. Primo.  It has rustic decor, raw-looking wood floors, and a television set on the wall.  It was unclear what this television set represented, since the sound was not on, and whatever was on was not interesting to watch.  There was also an open refrigerator installation that contained various raw and prepared foodstuffs, apparently for purchase.  It was like a little grocery store in a restaurant.

And then, who was our waitperson?  The maitre d' seated us and immediately turned us over to some woman who seemed to be the waitress.   But it was the maitre d' whom I later informed that we were ready to order, and it was he who took our order.  The woman came back and asked the obligatory question: did we want "regular" water, or did we want the kind you have to buy.  "Regular" was fine, and there were two other people, plus the "waitress," who irregularly refilled our glasses.  I'm guessing we would have gotten better service if we had paid for water.  Yes, I am aware this is snide.  I have not, however, had an opportunity to be proven wrong.  I will also say at this point in the story that the service was almost uniformly poor.  There were lots of people flitting around, but I was not persuaded that this activity was actually purposeful.

We ordered one salad and one pasta dish, both to share.  We agreed to receive them at the same time.  In retrospect, this was a mistake.  But who knew?  In the meantime, we waited.  Why, you might ask yourself (I'm now reading Tristram Shandy, and I can't help the digressions), did I use up a whole sentence, just to say we waited?  Why, indeed.

While we waited, I became acutely aware of the lack of bread.  This is crucial for two reasons.  One is that I am a hound for bread.  The other is that Ni.Do. Primo serves spectacular bread.  The third of the two reasons is that we were getting distinctly hungry.  So I asked.  Oh, yeah, they off-handedly and perhaps grudgingly conceded, sure, they do serve bread.  Remember I mentioned waiting?  It was hard to tell whether they were somehow too busy, or they just weren't that interested.

At some point, a new character appeared.  He was somewhat larger than most people, he was dressed like a cook, and he emerged from the kitchen.  He looked around, then he retreated to the kitchen.  I had in mind that he might be the chef, taking a moment to survey his outer domain, but that he lacked the nerve to say hello to the patrons.  Then, he came back out, and then, he went back in.  This happened a third time, too.  But the third time was a bit different, because he somehow had plates of food in his hands, and they were our dinner.  He brought them over.  I guess he was server #5.

Now, consider a tiny table, the usual accoutrements (salt, pepper, bottles of oil and vinegar, a votive candle, etc), two plates, two glasses of water, and now the addition of two dishes of food.  Never mind that there were no plates for us to use for sharing (we had already said we intended to share).  The fact is, there wasn't room.  We were unable to navigate with this condensed clutter.  We asked for the plates to use for sharing, and this, of course, had to result in the removal of the bread plates.  This might not seem like a big deal, to you (it was to me), but the loss of the bread plates was mitigated by the fact that the bread wasn't delivered to us yet anyway.  Not much of a consolation.  Until we eventually did receive bread, which was a very far cry from the magnificent bread Ni.Do. Primo serves down the street.  But dividing the dishes, and having room for anything, was still a major problem, and it remained so until we were eventually done and could have the plates cleared.  Which was a bit of a story in itself.  I was relieved to have finished my dinner, and what my companion, who eats like a bird, didn't eat of hers, and to have been able to pile dishes upon dishes, to make the collection of plates vertical, since horizontal was increasingly unbearable.  At that point, one of the water-servers asked me if I was done, and if he could remove the plates.  The completely empty plates.  The ones I stacked for him.  Yes, I told him to feel free to remove them.

The bill came in a little wooden box with a lid.  My companion considered this "cute."  Not so much, for me.  Once you add your credit card, they take the box away, then they bring it back with the original bill, your credit card, a pen, and two copies of the credit card bill (one for them, and one for you), there is no more room in the little wooden box than there was on the table.  I was so happy to be able to leave.

My companion saw a silver lining.  I asked her what it was, and she suggested that the food was "good."  I'd go as far as not bad, but I wasn't sure I could make it all the way over to good.  The salad, for example, she said, was "good."  What did you like about it, I asked?  The cheese, she pointed out, and the dressing.  They were "good."  My companion is a professional writer.  She writes fiction.  Humor fiction.  And she is personally a "foodie," and she likes to write about food.  No one ever committed "damning with faint praise" like this particular individual offering no more than that the food was "good," exemplified by salad dressing that was "good."

The spinach salad, with pear, "Gorgonzola" (tasted like goat to me), endive, and "Raspberry-Gorgonzola vinaigrette") was OK.  "Good?"  Maybe.  $13?  No.  The whole wheat bigoli pasta with vegetables (essentially primavera) was fine.  "Good?"  Probably.  $16?  Maybe.

For my money, it's Ni.Do. Primo from now on.  If you want something done right, Harvey...

I'm Probably Late to the Goodyear Party

One of my tires was losing air.  I usually go to Firestone on 163rd Street for tires, just out of habit, and that's where I went today.  I've gotten service there before, and I've bought tires from them before.  My guess, and my hope, were that I only had a nail, and therefore, I only needed a patch.  In my experience at Firestone, I was looking at a $20 intervention.  It would just be a matter of waiting for them to do the work.  I had to ask whether this was patchable, or would I need a new tire, and how long would I be waiting when I brought the car back later.

But there was only one person working the counter, I only saw one mechanic working on cars, and I had to get home in time for a phone call.  Just waiting to ask the questions was going to take too long.  I solicited a recommendation from Chuck Ross, who reminded me about Goodyear at 12850 W. Dixie in North Miami, and I decided to stop off there.

I told Omar my problem, and he immediately found the nail.  And it was in a good spot not to need more than a patch.  I confirmed with him the price I imagined Goodyear would charge: "about $20?"  No, Omar replied.  It's free.  But I didn't want a patch put on for free.  It costs time and trouble to put on a patch, and I didn't want Goodyear to go without proper compensation for the job.  I asked Omar why Goodyear wouldn't charge me for this service, which was of value to me.  Because we want you to come back for other service, he explained.  Well, I'm going to do that even if you do charge me $20.  No, it appeared, that was not the deal with tire patches at Goodyear.  You just don't pay for them.

I looked at the menu on the overhead (they're very smart at Goodyear), and I found something I could use: three years worth of alignments.  It's about the same price they charge at Firestone.  I asked Omar to put that on my bill, and of course, it was the only thing on the bill.

So I left the car with Omar and Goodyear.  But I still had to get home quickly for my phone call, and at this point, I no longer had time to walk.  No problem, apparently.  Omar gave me a ride to my house.

Later, when the car was ready, having had a tire patched and the wheels aligned, I walked up to Goodyear.  I paid, and I was told the car was either out front, or it was around the side.  I had to go look for it.  They were "very busy," and had lots of cars ready to go.

I didn't fully recognize my car at first.  It was too shiny.  It turns out they washed it, too.  Also for free and without ever having told me this, too, was part of the service.

If you need tires, or mechanical repairs, and you don't use Richie Strassberg for the latter, please use Goodyear.  They're quick, they're convenient, they're competitive, and they couldn't be more accommodating.   You can call them at 305-891-4648.

Ni.Do. Caffe - Like it or Not

            Out of town visitors love trying new restaurants.  Such an invitation was extended when my companion, Fred Jonas, and I ended up at a charming-looking Italian spot called Ni.Do. Caffe (Two) a few blocks up from its counterpart, Ni.Do. One.

            As we drove up, the little twinkling lights seemed warm and welcoming, and they were a nice come-on to those whose appetites were waiting to be whetted. Like a sexy woman who enjoys flaunting her stuff, Ni. Do. Caffe might have provided the perfect ambiance were it not for a few glaring flaws:

One, the overhead TV set seemed more fitting in a sports bar than in an Italian restaurant striving for intimacy.  And two, trying to decipher who our server would be was a study in futility.  We could place bets, but our growling stomachs did not allow for such frivolity.  After an afternoon of a stunning Seraphic Fire, Mozart’s Requiem concert, and a few failed attempts at some other eateries (it was Valentine’s Day, and places were booked) we were starving and wanted to get down to the business of food consumption.

We were finally seated at one of the vacant tables. The Maitre D’ was gracious enough, though he seemed a bit frazzled trying to get it all right by accommodating all of his customers simultaneously.  Ditto for our waitress, an attractive young woman with a charming Italian accent.  She was equally eager to please, but she wasn’t exactly sure how to execute that plan with enough aplomb to carry it off without a few faux pas.

While we scanned the menu of gastronomic delights including Formaggi, Antipasti, Insalate, a huge selection of tempting pizzas, and a pasta list as long as an ample thread of linguini, we decided to share a whole wheat Bigoli - a sort-of primavera pasta dish - and a spinach salad.

While we waited for our food, we had a perfect view of the mini-grocery “store”/refrigerator nestled off to the side, and featuring many of the Ni.Do.’s offerings including their olive oils and wines.  Were it not for the noise, my companion and I might have engaged in meaningful conversation, but the acoustics being what they were, it was more “what did you say?” and “I can’t hear you” that were exchanged between us.  Not exactly the perfect Valentine’s Day lingo that we ladies prefer.

It was then the real fun began, which had to do with the word: “share.” Apparently, Ni.Do. Caffe’s idea of sharing means distributing plates designed for bird-type eaters, but not for men with gargantuan appetites.  And even though I eat sparingly, this was bordering on inappropriateness to seem almost insulting,  

The dishes were not split (as requested), but served together in two separate bowls, sans serving utensils.  Add to that the bread basket, which was more a straw box (cute), which was jaw-dropingly disappointing in its bread allotment, though tasty enough.

On the plus side, once we maneuvered the pasta and salad to our small plates, making room for slices of bread and a smidgen of olive oil, we forged ahead with gusto.  I found the pasta to be decidedly delicious, and the salad dressing and Gorgonzola cheese to be as good as it gets. 

Memory lapses also reigned supreme among the servers, as evidenced by our pleas for water, which finally arrived in all its tap water splendor, but only filled up half my glass.  Our server forgot to return to refill the other half, bringing to mind the metaphorical famous quote: should we look at “the glass as half full or half empty?”

Much in the same way, we can interpret Ni.Do. Cafe as a half-empty-half-full experience.  It was full of expectation, some of which was satisfied by the food and well-meaning, though clumsy, attempts by the servers, to make our stay as pleasant as possible.  On the half empty side, like all new restaurants, this one being only four months old, some of the kinks need to be worked out.

On the whole, however, and feeling generous, I would say that Ni.Do. Caffe Two tries hard.  They just need to take it down a notch with the noise, and step it up with the service.  The proof of the pasta, to paraphrase, is in the eating. 

You Just Can't Make This S**t Up.

An e-mail everyone in Citizens' CrimeWatch received tonight from Chuck Ross.

CCW OF BP,

This is the second time we are reporting the theft of a loaded gun left in an unlocked car, that's the second time too many; there is no excuse for this.    

Please read the messages below from Chief McKenna regarding the Gun theft and house burglary.

Chuck Ross

MESSAGE FROM CHIEF MCKENNA--THEFT OF GUN on January 14th

A person house sitting a residence on Griffing Blvd near NE 121st St left his pickup truck unlocked when he parked it.  The next morning, this person discovered a thief had entered his UNLOCKED pickup truck and taken a fully loaded 9mm semi-automatic handgun.

If you leave a gun in your vehicle, you are putting your community at risk. If you leave a gun in your UNLOCKED vehicle, it isn't simply a concern that crime will occur with the stolen gun, it is that dire consequences including the injury or death of innocent people including children can and does happen!

No guns should EVER be left in an UNLOCKED vehicle.

HOUSE BURGLARY:   Window left open - sometime since 2PM yesterday - 10700 Block of NE 9th ave. -  copper wiring was taken. 

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I RECEIVED THIS EARLIER TODAY FROM ADRIAN IN THE UES--TAIL GATE LOCK

​ A suggestion to truck owners, Masterlock makes a very simple to install lock that secures the tail gate to the truck, it costs ($15-$20) depending on where you buy it.

(model # 5283) 

Chuck Ross, CCW of BP, Chair

Remember if you see something suspicious, if it's an Emergency, do not hesitate, call 911 (and never insert yourself in the situation), if not call the MDC Non-Emergency number 305-476-5423, that's 305 4 Police.  If you are not sure do not hesitate, call 911.

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Keep your cars locked.