on July 4th. Okay, it sort of doesn't count for the "travel" forum because we go to NYC all the time (my mom lives nearby), but hey - what the heck.

We were at South Street Seaport to see the fireworks and afterward, strolling wearily down John Street on our way to the subway we decided to pop in for dessert to rest and re-hydrate (with water, coffee, and a nice single-malt).

Yes, I know it was only dessert - but give me a break - it was 10:30pm and I had a 10-year-old to get home and into bed after a subway ride and 25 more minutes on Metro North (IF we caught the express train...). Anyway - even though it was only dessert and a relatively small bill, we did tip big (two former and eternally-recovering waitrons in the group) and I have to say - I am *NOT* a custard person, but the creme brulee my daughter ordered was OUT of this world. The pear sorbet, profiteroles and Tarte Tatin didn't suck either. Truly yummy. Plus - THANK YOU, FRANCE!!!! - all the sweets had an appropriate amount of salt as well as sugar! A sadly rare phenomenon these days.

My mother had been there before with friends and waxed disturbingly elegiac about the aged beef - so that's on my list for the next visit (which is a complement coming from me - I rarely visit a restaurant more than once, unless it's in my hometown of Seattle). I'm also not one to lightly fork over $58 for a chunk of cow, even in Manhattan, but I had to ask Mom to cease her increasingly embarrassing and gushy string of superlatives about Tony's meat (this from a woman who's never seen NR or read anything but the New Yorker stuff) - and unlike certain other (admittedly entertaining) commenters on this forum, she was actually talking about MEAT.

So - steak and frites it is next time. I hate feeling like such a fangirl, but I have to admit - it's a pretty nice place to sit and cool your heels on a rainy Manhattan evening, and the scent of some sort of beef Bourguignon-ish sort of thing next to us made me thing that someone in the kitchen knew his (her?) deglaze from the proverbial hole-in-the-wall.

And by the way, Tony - the toilet in the back upstairs ladies' room sticks when you flush it.

Thought you might want to know.