Marlow and Sons--Brooklyn

718.384.1441


Holy shit, it's been a while. Fucking busy season man. It sucks you in. I'm currently writing this while a horrible Greek band bellows four flights down. I'm in the attic of my place furiously typing a way. I've already written about Diner and though Marlow and Sons is a completely different restaurant, I've always felt like they're the same place. In fact, geographically, they are the same place; share the same kitchen, the same staff, and the same devil may care attitude towards service. It was my other wife's birthday, so naturally we ended up sitting up at the bar.

My other wife's birthday is at the beginning of April and my memory, as always, is a bit hazy. Here's what I got in my notepad:

Aloof once again. I suppose this was the staff. I don't necessarily think they were meaning to be aloof, but that I thought they was because I was intimidated by how cool they were.

Oysters. How do you hate oysters?

We ordered 1st courses. They were all good. I had a ravioli and my wives had salads. I don't want to get into it again, but it is Diner's kitchen, the food's always going to be good.

Tons of lesbos. One wearing sexy stockings. Wives wouldn't let me engage. I suppose that this was going to be the crux of the piece, as the place was teeming with sexy interpenetrated trim. The sexy lesbos were also quite young and modely, which means that they probably were just dressing the part.

Great Scale. They have a scale in the bathroom. I suppose that's cool.

Correcting the pee stream. I have no idea what this means other than I was drunk. You can tell I was scribbling it as I was peeing



So there you go, the inner thoughts of a review that expired. Hopefully that helps.