Is there a show or movie that you watch over and over again even though you know all the lines and have seen it a million times? For me,
Friends is one of those shows. I put it on when there’s nothing else to watch or for background noise because I don’t really have to pay attention. But, in your movie/show of choice, have you ever noticed something new? Like a reference to something that you never thought about before? Or understood a joke that didn’t make sense when you were a kid? After eating at a restaurant once, something that my eyes had glazed over hundreds and hundreds of times while watching
Friends suddenly had a whole new meaning.
When I moved to New York in 2006, I enrolled in a food writing course at the
FCI with food critic
Alan Richman. There, I met a student who raved about a newly-opened restaurant called the
little owl. Despite the month wait, it was well worth it she said. I called the next day, promptly at 10 AM, and made a reservation, but unfortunately had to cancel. Not being someone who easily lets go of an idea once it’s in my head, especially when it comes to food (just ask my poor parents and friends), this went on for over a year: none of the reservations came to fruition for one reason or another. I almost gave up hope until a new spurt of energy and a binding promise from two of my friends secured me an opportunity.
As the fateful evening approached, I began having doubts: what if it wasn’t that good? After all, I had been building it up in my head for over a year and mildly obsessing about it to my friends. In such a restaurant-populated city like New York, could it live up to my expectations?
Yes. I couldn’t believe it. From the sliders to the elevated seating nook in the corner, it was a perfect evening –
I was hooked. It even exceeded the expectations of my friends who had only joined me out of pity, “I know this means a lot to you.”
Speaking of
Friends, while watching one of my dvr-ed episodes (even though I own all seven seasons), I was fast-forwarding through the credits when the familiar sight of the restaurant caught my eye – but there was something different about it. I paused, rewound, and moved closer to the TV. Reading the brown street signs, ‘Bedford’ and ‘Grove’ for the first time, I instantly gasped and started pointing at the TV shouting “that’s the little owl!!” Frantically calling my sister, I blurted out my discovery, speaking so quickly in my excitement that she had no clue what I was saying: I couldn’t believe that my favorite restaurant was housed in the pretend apartment building of one of my favorite shows. That’s what I like to call fate.
While not all of you may share my passion for the show (that I can understand) or the restaurant (that’s just crazy talk), since that first dinner, the little owl has been the site of birthday dinners, joyful gatherings, and blissful brunches, creating a lovely bank of memories of my time in New York. Capturing my experiences in words is the purpose of this blog, and the inspiration for the name.
(And if you haven’t tried the
little owl yet, you definitely should).
I am a 26 year-old writer and food lover in New York City. My writing has appeared on StarChefs.com, in Food & Wine magazine, and in Food & Wine Cocktails 2010. I am also currently finishing a Masters in Food Studies at NYU and working on a cookbook proposal.