Liz: "The BDC was born for us..."

The BDC was born for us, one night in early summer, when Nick was coming to Brooklyn for dinner, and randomly invited his two friends, Jessica, who lives in Prospect Heights, and Betsy, in Park Slope. I'd met Jessica at Nick's birthday parties, and wanted to be friends with her anyway, and had mentioned it to Nick. (Not only because she works at Hearst in PR, which I thought was chic, and because she is beautiful and looks biracial--I'm biracial, so I'm biased. She's not, BTW.)

They both agreed, on a Saturday night, no less, to meet us. We picked Beast, this then-new tapas place in Prospect Heights that I think is lesbian owned, and has a great outdoor area in the summer. We sat inside, and shared red wine that was a little too warm, but fine, and the amazing home-baked pita bread, and a bunch of other amazing meaty treats that I don't remember.

Betsy is a casting director--I'm obsessed with actors and entertainment, and found this very chic too. She was also one of the warmest and funniest people I'd ever met. She's a vegetarian, poor thing, and sometimes I think she gets ripped off at the BDC dinners because she can't partake in meat, but everyone eats her entree and her soup. (In fact, Ingrid and I had a small fight about the bill walking home last night, but that's for my blog, not this one.) At this meeting, Betsy was lamenting her single-ness and considering trying to start dating women because the men pool was bad. Normally I find that joke not funny but on her, it really was endearing. We also talked about therapy, and I felt so much better about my own issues after that.

The whole night felt so... organic. Really. We all got along as if we'd known each other for years, and we never ran out of stuff to talk about.

The next meeting was at Ici , a place Ingrid and I had been wanting to try, in Fort Greene. We got the cold shoulder with service, although we sat in a very lovely garden there. The food was alright, but the service was so laissez faire, that I vowed NEVER to set foot in there ever again. The only good memory I have is that we got free copies of that magazine, Edible Brooklyn , or whatever it's called.

A month later, Ingrid, Jessica, her husband Tommy and I cheated on the BDC by meeting at the Red Hook tents near the softball fields, across from the Red Hook Pool. There was a big piece in Edible Brooklyn, as well as another in the NYT (that basically ripped off Edible's), talking about the cheapest, most amazing food that comes out of these tiny stalls where these Latin families are cooking every Sunday during the summer. We had little pork tacos. Arepas with lots of white cheese. Some ceviche. And other deliciousness. They didn't have any desserts, that was the only drawback. We rode our bikes to Prospect Park and reluctantly drove by Uncle Louie G's on Union Street, and had to fight not to stop and get chocolate peanut butter ice cream. We sat and read the paper in the park, and then it was almost time to go. That day reminded me that new friendship can be as exciting as new romance, and doesn't carry the weight of the potential disappointment of awkward sex. Thanks, Jess!

Last night, we met at Palo Santo, everyone's new favorite restaurant. Delicious, offensively fresh Latin food. Kind of pricey, but so delicious. I thought the apps were better than the entrees, but Jessica might weigh in on the mole sauce. I tried Scotch bonnets, these amazing hot peppers, for the first time. We all had news: Jessica is promoted to a VP at Hearst; Betsy fell in love; Ingrid and I are pregnant; and Nick's ass is better than it was in January 2006. Best of all: we made a new dining partner: Tia, a very chic corporate lawyer, with a long-distance San Diego boyfriend. Tia has forbidden any blogging here about Manhattan restaurants. That's what citysearch is for, I guess.

Next hopes:
RoseWater
Maria's Mexican Bistro
Flatbush Farm
Sheep Station

And, do we venture out of Park Slope sometime soon? MARINE BAY? BAY RIDGE? FIELD TRIP TO ASTORIA FOR ALL THE ETHNIC FOOD THERE? Read this piece.

by LIZ