This story is part of the CelebrEighty Series written by Judy Katz… Yesterday a beloved friend, who recently celebrated his 90th birthday, was on his way to meet me for lunch. We were going to Felice Columbus for the fourth time. Why keep returning when there are so many fine restaurants all over Manhattan? If you order the Crostone Ricotta on brochette, topped with fresh ricotta, Italian linden, spicy honey, figs, and sliced almonds, not to mention my favorite cocktail ever, their one-of-a-kind multi-liquor/liqueur “monteregina,” you too would be culinarily attracted to the same fine dining experience.
But this is not a cooking column: I want to tell you why this lunch never happened—and may never happen again—because my friend fell on the sidewalk and injured himself. That fall was unnecessary. He is a proud man. And as we know, sometimes “pride goeth before a fall—in his case literally! He wouldn’t use a walker to steady himself or make sure someone was there to walk beside him the few blocks from his townhouse to the restaurant. One of his devoted assistants said, “He wants to think he’s still 25.” Read more