Dinner at Uncle Boons

There was a time when I believed I was sophisticated. This feeling was instilled in me early on by my mother, who was quite avant-garde for her day. A strict anorexic/vegetarian, she often ran through the streets in black tights and a leotard in the early 1960s. She did it for exercise, but it was well before the running craze and I'm sure many people just thought she was nuts. I knew, of course, that she was ahead of her time. She also was very close friends with a gay couple; she and my father would meet Bill and Lanny for dinner in Greenwich Village every few months.

She raised me to think I too was sophisticated, since I was a native New Yorker. I bought her story, and always felt borderline-smug about it. Until now. Actually, until about an hour ago when I read an article in Travel + Leisure magazine--we won a subscription and I can't wait for it to end--about a restaurant in Nolita--at least I know where that is-- that is very cool and tres chic, and which everyone loves because of its excellent home-style Thai dishes like charred blowfish tails.

Now, I have never eaten any part of a blowfish. To be perfectly frank, I was not sure what a blowfish was so I Googled it and found the picture shown above. I don't find it appetizing at all. If I were forced to eat part of one, it would likely not be the tail, which looks skimpy, and certainly I wouldn't think of having it charred. I would also never call it home-style, although I guess it is if your home is in Thailand. But what do I know? Nothing, obviously. What a fool I've been with my silly grilled swordfish steaks.