Ricalton's--South Orange NJ

973-763-1006

What the hell is going on here?  Having deduced that Arturo's is the only place in town, we decided to try another town:  South Orange.  Owned by an ex-teacher turned self-serving explorer, it's a shame in all of this travels he didn't visit more fine dining establishments.  For the price, I'd rather schlep back into the city.

For starters the sun-burned college drop out fucked up my martini, shaking it right in front of me when I asked for it stirred.  I hate bruised ice.  I rarely drink martinis but I needed something to blur the lines of what is my new culinary reality.  This was also, to note, my first martini in front of the ol' family, and the look I got from Nagzilla for even ordering it in the first place demanded that it better be good.  For this kid to deliver it, in a shaker whilst shaking, was the first indication that I was in for a delight. It's been a while since I've harped on bad service.  But this walking Cheeto definitely struck a nerve.

Fuck you Iconman, how was the food?  The food was a combination of shared ingredients and lack of imagination.  It was well prepared but ill fitting, like a prom dress sized before you fell in love with donuts.  Yes, I must say, the bar is much lower in the burbs, and we are having difficulty adjusting. I had the airplane chicken (which I was under the impression was not a specific cut of meat, but rather a purchasers vernacular) with cous cous and artichokes.  It also, for some odd reason, decided to incorporate edemame.  There was the cod special with Avocado and Red Peppers.   Just bizarro combinations delivered by a nincompoops.

Dear God, what have I become?  Long gone are the days of Reynards and Glasserie and black outs where I yelled at Andrew Marlowe for no good reason.  SOS