Alex and I have been dating for almost four months now. We have
shared several meals and conversations together beyond Casa Mono. As
our relationship has settled into a ‘monogamous’ place, we have both
expressed fears about reaching a ‘monotonous’ place, – when your
boyfriend lives in the same neighborhood, in my case the West side
(Chelsea/West Village), every date begins to take place within a twelve
block radius – emphasizing the potential for “monotony” (not be
confused with monogamy). And, while the dining options are both vast
and enticing, you start to feel like you are placing your relationship
under quarantine.
On a recent Wednesday night, we ventured out. We took what to us was a somewhat lengthy cab ride to a restaurant on the Lower East Side (Allen and Rivington) and as soon as we stepped out of the cab, there was a breath of relief. I thought to myself, “We’re not old or boring…we just underestimate taxis.”
Our destination was Kampuchea, an eatery known partly for being the only Cambodian restaurant in the city. Needless to say, neither of us are exactly connoisseurs of Cambodian cuisine, but since we were brave enough to leave our neighborhood, our palettes were gung ho for leaving the country altogether.
Winter on the Upper West Side of New York is a strange time and place to open a lobster shack. Where’s the beach, for example? Where’s the sun? The seagulls? It’s hard to conjure up seafood by the seashore when you’re standing thigh-deep in slush. But open it did – Luke’s, that is – on Amsterdam, between 80th and 81st and I, for one, couldn’t be happier. I’m an actor; I can pretend it’s summer.