Bar Blanc

I wore all black to Bar Blanc. Except for the patch of blanc skin blaring between tights and shoes. I'm pale. I wear sunscreen even when it's raining. Enough about my skin. It's time to discuss the skin of some animal I ingested.

Only four floosies were in attendance. Ann was away in France. Not a bad excuse.

Let me put my fork down for a minute to explain that The Fork Floosies formed two years ago as a group of five women who get together once a month to explore and experience New York City's restaurants. Each month one of us picks a spot to meet and eat.

Back to Bar Blanc. We kicked things off with a bottle of Lambrusco, which we thought was a sparkling red. Wrong. Sparkling white. This is not Bar Rojo. We ordered the special appetizer, duck pate, baby boston lettuce and hearts of palm salad, crispy sweatbreads salad and haricots verts with boquerones salad. I thought sweatbreads were brains. Seems like a sensible name for a vital part of the body. However they are thymus glands. I admit, I was scared to try brains or glands. I channeled my inner Bourdain and tasted. Sweatbreads are light and airy. I could eat a popcorn vat filled with em. I even went in for a second helping. Our appetizer course was quickly overtaken by Gail's story of her birthday dinner at Per Se. She's the first of us floosies to make it there. We were all so proud. And jealous.

We swallowed our envy along with our mains. We shared the summer vegetable risotto, crispy milk-fed "baby pig" porcelet and the roasted free range duck breast. My fav was the granny smith apple green risotto.

In between our entree and dessert, Donna and I visited the ladies room and discovered a few ladies snorting Bolivian marching powder. Maybe that's how the place gets its name.

During the mains, I spat an inedible bite of porcelet into my napkin. Upon returning to the table, I found the waiter shaking and then refolding my napkin. The chewed up hunk of food fell out of the cloth and landed on my seat. The waiter picked it up with his bare hands. He deserves a raise for subjecting himself to my DNA and mouth bacteria.

We ended the evening with marinated strawberries, a chocolate raspberry cake with a fancy name that isn't coming to mind and squash blossoms filled with (I think) marscapone cheese. But, I can't really remember what they were filled with it. They were good. And that's what matters.

Would I return to Bar Blanc? Considering all the other eateries yet to visit, probably not. The food wasn't amazing. It wasn't bad. It was fine. What I really ate up was the company and decor.

So, nice pick Jessica. Donna, you're up next.