The Bruni Digest

In which I sit on a dirt mound somewhere in Brooklyn with my ears pricked, waiting for New York Times head restaurant critic Frank Bruni, who I imagine to be a Venetian count in a huge ruffled collar, to dole out stars from the inside breast pocket of his brocaded chamber robe. This blog is predicated on the suggestion that every Wednesday, in the Times Dining Out section, Frank lays a huge faberge egg of hilarity.

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Location: New York, New York, U.S. Outlying Islands

I am fiscally irresponsible, which means I have weak bones and a dorsal fin. And a penchant for dining out, even though I am, in the words of many rich people, a "poor people". I make a different face when speaking each of the foreign languages in which I am shittily proficient.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

One Sad Little Dancing Ape

So for two weeks, Segnor Bruni is in Italy, examining his roots.

"Lai lai lai, I'm so alone, alone in a field, it's cause I'm deranged, la la laaa"

No, silly, his ITALIAN roots. Moskin's got his back, but...it's just not the same. When Frank's needle goes off the track, so to speak, this little ballerina stops dancing.


See you in two weeks (although carryover divertissement always available here.)

3 Comments:

Blogger tiny banquet committee said...

In the meantime let's speculate as to what's in Bruni's fanny pack (second item down)!

2:48 PM, October 13, 2006  
Blogger MrSniffalot said...

The heading "One Sad Little Dancing Ape" stopped me in my tracks for a moment, as I thought immediately of Mr. Chandler Butt, er, Mr. Chandler Burr, esteemed perfume critic of the Times, who, oddly enough, is also in Italy at this time. Could he and Mr. Bruni be the same person?

7:47 PM, October 22, 2006  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey Jules, the Count is back from La Dolce Vita with either the limitations of his tastebuds or of his travel agent's trip planing (would I dare blame his itinerary on the great world traveller himself?) glaringly present. In the esteemed and self proclaimed wine expert's world Tuscany (and the Sangiovese vinyards) don't exist. Having just returned at the same time from Italy I can assure him that in the birthplace of the Rennaisance and of most western culinary traditions the fine art wine making is continuing to reach new heights of innovation and quality.

9:46 AM, November 02, 2006  

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