You’ve long believed in two key rules of dating:
1: Always have an emergency tux/parachute pack on standby. You just never know.
2: Always have a date spot in your back pocket with live jazz and Red Wine Ice.
Today, we’re going to address rule #2...
Enter Watel’s Bistro, a seven-table bistro for oysters and kabobs, tucked away in the old York Street location in Lakewood, now open.
Now, this place is easy to miss, so keep your eye out for one tiny identifying marker: a lime green Volkswagen van parked out front. (Okay, so maybe not so tiny.)
We’re pretty sure the entire bistro can fit in the back of an 18-wheeler, so it qualifies as “intimate”—the inside’s all low lighting, yellow and red curtains, and menus covered in passports from around the world. Settle into a two-top table by the jazz guitarist in the corner. (It’s tight quarters, so you might want to introduce yourself. His name’s Samuel and he’s there Wednesdays through Saturdays.)
As the wine gets poured, you’ll peruse the options for your three courses (it’s prix fixe)—say, calf’s brains and veal kidneys or pork tenderloin and sweetbreads. (Some days are more calf’s brain-y than others.) Then you’ll clean your palate with the aforementioned Red Wine Ice and an Amarula Slushy.
Go ahead, offer Sam a sip.
1: Always have an emergency tux/parachute pack on standby. You just never know.
2: Always have a date spot in your back pocket with live jazz and Red Wine Ice.
Today, we’re going to address rule #2...
Enter Watel’s Bistro, a seven-table bistro for oysters and kabobs, tucked away in the old York Street location in Lakewood, now open.
Now, this place is easy to miss, so keep your eye out for one tiny identifying marker: a lime green Volkswagen van parked out front. (Okay, so maybe not so tiny.)
We’re pretty sure the entire bistro can fit in the back of an 18-wheeler, so it qualifies as “intimate”—the inside’s all low lighting, yellow and red curtains, and menus covered in passports from around the world. Settle into a two-top table by the jazz guitarist in the corner. (It’s tight quarters, so you might want to introduce yourself. His name’s Samuel and he’s there Wednesdays through Saturdays.)
As the wine gets poured, you’ll peruse the options for your three courses (it’s prix fixe)—say, calf’s brains and veal kidneys or pork tenderloin and sweetbreads. (Some days are more calf’s brain-y than others.) Then you’ll clean your palate with the aforementioned Red Wine Ice and an Amarula Slushy.
Go ahead, offer Sam a sip.
