For New Years Eve this year, I dined at a little Williamsburg eatery, Fanny, with a friend of mine.
"Should I get the steak frites," I asked my dining companion, "or should I be good and have the roast chicken?"
"Having tasted the roast chicken," my friend said, "I can tell you one thing: It ain't healthier. They use, like, a stick of butter."
That was enough -- I was sold.
And, indeed, the chicken tasted far too rich and delicious to be considered in any way "good" for your health. It was poison. But you'd die with a smile on your face. (Roast chicken is one of those dishes that for me calls up a Proustian memory of my youth. There are very, very few things I enjoy more.)
The skin (which, for the most part, I cut away) was perfectly crispy, the meat was tender and moist. And it came with spinach and mushrooms which also tasted like they were drenched in butter.
It was truly spectacular.
My friend had the scallops -- two plump mollusks over a cream sauce (which wasn't on the regular menu) which I got only a small taste of. (She wasn't about to give up those suckers.) But having just had a small nibble, I can attest they were also delish.
And the prices are extremely reasonable (my chicken was $16 -- I think the scallops were $20.)
All in all, this schlub gives Fanny a nice pat, uh... on the head.