Prune-Manhattan

(212) 677-6221

Sort of odd to write about a place that has been around forever and is established as a restaurant, but I don't ever write about restaurants in the East Village so why not start with this one. Prune was not our first choice, but the sweltering heat forced us to abandon our originaly destination and retreat to Prune to get a seat at their four seat bar.

We had radishes and squash blossoms (that looked like unborn cabbage patch kids), chicken with aspic and celery with blue cheese, and it was all weird and delicious. The waitresses popped around in pink shirts and one of them kept checking me out until I was told that the place was largely populated by lesbians, though, that has never stopped me before.

The only notable event of the night was the pisswater Pimms cup; made by jigger. In fact, all of the drinks were made by jigger. I don't agree with the practice, though it has become fashionable in the recent months, as I like my drinks to be very strong. But when the bartender, a tubby little number, told me that owner/chef did it to control costs that's where I draw the line. I don't mind watching the almighty dollar as it's a tough business, but if you're gonna do that don't serve lousy drinks. Of course, who the hell am I? Prune was packed, and even the wretched female judge on Top Chef even came by to dine and she hates everything so you know this place must be good.

Actually, the more I dig I also remember this waif of a women with long stringy black hair sitting next to me at the bar. Her boyfriend was quite hot and since she looked like an alien she assumed she was too, and kept leaning into me and flipping her gross hair. I nearly freaked out, but the Pimms cup was so gross we elected to leave before I made a scene and got tossed by lesbo's. And not in the good way. Fucking long-haired alien women. They're taking over.