| rev:text
| - For an appropriate metaphor to Nick's restaurant, one need only look to the chicken section of their menu.
Piccata? Yes, quite.
Marsala? Ahh, of course, a staple.
Parmesana? Why certai-- wait. What? What the fuck is Parmesana? I get what Parmesan (Parmigiano) is: it's a dry, hard granular cheese. I'm also familiar with Parmigiana (which means "from Parma," Northern Italy): it's usually used to denote a particular breaded meat/eggplant dish that is bathed in sauce and cheese. Parmesana, on the other hand, isn't a word. One could write it off as a simple spelling error, but they repeat that exact mode in the following veal section.
So, there it is. Nick's is essentially a generic place that doesn't quite know its identity, and it does it extremely well without anyone ever noticing.
Nick's is a restaurant for people that are afraid of change; afraid of diversity; afraid of trying something new. While I can't say there's anything wrong with ordering Chicken Parmesan or Spaghetti and Meatballs every time you go out to dinner, it's not for me. After all, Nick's would be ridiculed amongst the pretentious diners of NYC, and I feel similarly. Every time my parents take me there (it is my father's favorite restaurant, which is very telling of his tastes in food) I can't find anything on the menu that sounds interesting enough to pop off the page. When I eat the food, I can't find anything about it that is exceptional enough to remain in my memory.
But, it is perfectly palatable, freakishly fresh food. I can't help but play devil's advocate and offer the argument that this is a great restaurant for people who like generic American-Italian food and are tired of (or too good for) Olive Garden. You know who you are. Just don't expect any breadsticks at Nick's.
|