When Chris got into town, he made mention of this German restaurant back in college that we always intended to patronize. We’d pass it several times a week and talk about popping in for a piece of Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte. This recollection drummed up a faint memory of beer gardens in Munich which in turn reminded me of the Beer Garden at Bohemian Hall in Astoria (flickr), another restaurant I’ve known about for years now but never found the chance to visit.
Last night, Dubbs, Chris, Josh and I had dinner and drank several steins of imported beers in an honest to god beer garden. The place was amazing…serious Munich flashbacks. I had a killer pork schnitzel and some potato salad that made me weak in the knees. Chris got a plate of latkes in addition to his kielbasa, so that all of us left food comatose. We toasted away the next three hours, looking ahead to a time when Chris would be a bona fide New Yorker and recalling bygone days and the people from college we don’t miss.
Josh and I got talking about our mutual underwear crises. We each own several pairs of ancient boxer briefs that have worn through in the crotch. I happened to be wearing a pair of jeans with a newly formed crotch hole too, and when I showed Josh, he caught a wee glimpse of nut. C’est la vie. Hearty beers heal all wounds of awkwardness.