I thought I’d never eaten tapas before, but I was wrong; upon close inspection, it turns out they’re actually appetizers. I’ll stop there because I’m sure Seinfeld wrung any unfunny humor from this foodstuff back when it first became popular in 1992 or so.
The tapas in question were delicious and eaten at La Paella during a dinner commemorating The Man’s birthday and featuring him and his mom, Jimi, Lee-Ann, Mike and myself. This photo shows, from left, Jimi, the Man and his Mom.
Some of the table also got paella and although I passed because I had gorged on a medley of fillet, chicken and vegetarian tapas, it was an oceanic bounty, including those jumbo shrimp that still have their eye stalks attached.
We drank sangria and for dessert, it was flan aplenty and some warm chocolate cake. Because the waiters weren’t up to it, we all sang “Happy Birthday.”
Afterwards, the kids took the subway uptown from Eighth Street before we went our separate ways. We joshed around while waiting for our train and if a production executive from NBC Entertainment would have happened by and overheard our banter, he would have optioned our act immediately as a mid-season replacement for whatever sitcom is starring John Lithgow. We’re like Friends meets a United Colors of Benetton ad, plus sexual innuendo, vicious racial slurs and “yo mama” jokes.
La Paella
- 214 E. 9th St. (between Second and Third Avenues)
- (212) 598-4321
- Meal 19 of 52: lots of tapas, sangria and flan that Jimi graciously paid for, unless I owe him money and don’t know it.