Last night, when a few of my gal pals and I whooped it up at Maloney & Porcelli for a Restaurant Week dinner, we encountered Satan. He came to us in the form of a bread basket. And, let me just say that I'm a sinner - and I'm not alone. I brought my friends down with me.
The crackle bread, thin and crisp, sprinkled with sesame and poppy seeds, wouldn't have been to hard to resist - but the mini corn breads and dark pumpernickel with carmelized bits of onion were certainly Satan's minions.
And then there was an evil unlike any we had ever known: Maloney & Porcelli's pretzel bread. Pictured above, I can only say this: If you see it "just say no!" Once we started in there was no helping us. I heard one of my friends ask the waiter for a refill of the salty, warm, tempting rolls and I wanted to stop her. I was powerless. Instead, I found myself nodding in agreement.
If anyone knows a bread exorcist, I suggest they head over to 50th between Madison & Park ASAP. It might be too late for me and my friends, but perhaps someone else can be saved.
Amen!
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