A perfect evening began on the pre-Christmas streets of New York City where each block was punctuated by a parade of shopping bags. Throughout were LED globe-like light arrays in different colors: Everything was dressed in lights.

This rarely happens: There was a parking spot in front of the restaurant. Andanada.

Who knew that the restaurant near the Alice Tully Hall (show to follow dinner) was so superb and had one Michelin Star?

Don’t want to sound like Anthony Bourdain, but I had no reservations; still got a table. Let me share this meal with you.

On the house: an “omelet.”  The egg is warm and frothy and infused with crispy bits of onion.

Tapas:

A round of butternut squash is covered by a round of goat cheese, on a sweet green sauce. Around it are thin sausages, crispy toasted squash seeds and sprouts. Like nothing I have ever tasted. I didn’t want to let the plate go.

And then paella! Mouse over photos.

Paella, very delicate mariscos: mussels, squid, cockles,shrimp, scallops

outstanding rice and baby peas with bits of red pepper

A most unusual dessert:

An artistic mosaic of pears in wine accompanied by a white chocolate brownie with nuts and cream and a dollop of chocolate gelato. Heaven.

Then, a very manageable three-block walk to Alice Tully Hall, part of Lincoln Center, for a special post dinner, dinner. Thornton Wilder’s,
>>> The Long Christmas Dinner, <<< first as a one-act play, then as a one-act opera. How unique is that?

The story is about time, how quickly it passes, how slowly it passes. We see it pass in the faces of others, in the welcoming of new children, in the loss of the elders, in the connections of people, in the way war takes away the young. The turkey is at the table each year and Christmas dinner becomes a ninety-year long repetition of feelings, observations, births and deaths until the red shawl is passed from the oldest generation to the youngest. But everything is relative: the youngest generation, in time, becomes the oldest. We all sit at that table, and eventually, we all leave.

Paul Hindemith’s one act opera, music conducted by Leon Botstein (I subscribe to several of his series) made the play even more melancholy.

But I must say: if I am to attend a ninety-year Christmas Dinner, let me spend it at Andanada.

internet photo

The New York Times opera review, Monday, 12/22/14
>>>>Two-Course Feast of Stage and Song <<<<

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