Diary 9|25|2015: Voice Improvement. Amici.

Written by Tom Fitzmorris September 29, 2015 12:01 in

[title type="h5"]DiningDiarySquare-200x200Friday, September 25, 2015. I Insist On Eating Uptown.[/title] I have a little work to do at the radio station after the show is over, and I dispatch it quickly. But that doesn't make it a careless exercise. A few days ago I was listening to a radio vignette on CBS Radio News on the web, and noticed that the writer/announcer has a certain rhythm in his delivery. The last five or so words in every sentence always rise and speed up to the period. After a few sentences, it becomes tiring--and the whole thing is only a minute long. As I read the spot I wrote for myself today (another writer/announcer, I write every word I say on the radio, and never use outside scripts), I paid attention to the rhythms of my own reading. I find a version of the same irritating problem I heard in the other guy. I stop, rewrite it, read a few lines in a consciously different way, make some notes--the kind I add to sheet music--that tell me to speed up, slow down, raise or lower the tone, insert a pause. I listen. I like it. It's the first time I've done this vocal renovation in forty years. There's always room for improvement, I guess. [caption id="attachment_49033" align="alignnone" width="480"]Dining room at Amici Dining room at Amici[/caption] The Marys are busy, so I dine solo. I defy the robbers who hit two Uptown restaurants lately, and head uptown. Actually, I didn't give the matter a thought until just now, as I write this. If I had, I would not have altered my plans. The modus operandi of the criminals--if one can be judged by two events--is to attack isolated restaurants. Tonight, I have dinner at Amici, which is in one of the densest clusters of restaurants anywhere in the city. If such a neighborhood gets this plague, we are indeed in trouble. I haven't dined at Amici in awhile. The restaurant's history shows a familiar pattern. It received a great deal of favorable attention in its early months, but then it entered what I thought was a culinary slump. They seem to have shaken that off and moved ahead. The dinner I have tonight is better than any previously taken at Amici. It begins with the attentions of an extraordinarily friendly, pretty young server, who laughed when I hoped she would, had knowledgeable advice when I asked probing questions about the food, and hopped to it when I asked for something. Tabasco, for instance. But there was no Tabasco. A New Orleans restaurant without hot sauce? I'll bet the chef is behind that policy. [caption id="attachment_49036" align="alignnone" width="480"]Beet salad with clue cheese at Amici. Beet salad with clue cheese at Amici.[/caption] I begin with lentil soup. The waitress warns me that it's a very brothy version with fewer lentils than I might expect to find, and more savory vegetables. About the only improvement it needed was a little Tabasco--but, well, it does okay without. Next a salad of at least two colors of fresh, firm but not crunchy beets with blue cheese. This was enough to share with perhaps three other people. But beets won't harm a diet. I ate all of it. [caption id="attachment_49035" align="alignnone" width="480"]Chicken Spiedini. Chicken Spiedini.[/caption] The entree is chicken spiedini. Like the first two dishes, it came from the specials list. The plate is dominated by medium-large pasta tubes (rigatoni, to be precise) with a pretty good, light, fresh red sauce. The chicken part consists of two pieces of white meat stuffed with cheese, salami, and a few other things, all breaded and then roasted in the oven on skewers. It's much lighter than the dish of the same name of Ristorante Filippo, which I would say still leads the field. But the Amici version is thoroughly enjoyable. Best dish I've had here. [caption id="attachment_49034" align="alignnone" width="480"]Cassata. Cassata.[/caption] The dessert isn't a special, but it's something you only see at Angelo Brocato's these days. Cassata is a cake, light but very sweet. That comes mostly from the topping. Because of this richness I can only get through about half of it, but that's normal for this dessert. Amici has an advantage over its neighbors in having a parking lot immediately adjacent. It fills up, but the guy who watches over things manages to get most people in and out. I always tip him five dollars, even though he doesn't drive the car. Just having him there adds something to the evening. Wait a minute! We might have the solution to the restaurant crime wave here. How about employing the tipping system to freelance guards in uniform who walk around, keeping an eye on things? Unlike the restaurant staff and customers, who have other things on their minds, these guards would be focused. They would wear sort-of uniforms. Hard to tell whether he or she is or isn't a guard, which makes everybody standing around a maybe guard. On the way out, the customers could slip a fiver into a safe at the door for the guards. Yeah, I know. Why should the customers have to bear this burden? Noted. Those for whom it would be a hardship would give less. Next question? Or, better still, next idea? I'll go along with anything that works, even if it costs me something. We must solve this now. Oh, yeah. Minimize cash on hand, customers carry no cash. (That part is a no-brainer, and should start right now.)