The former mayor ate his way around the country again this week. On his usual San Francisco to Los Angeles to DC to New York circuit, Da Gourmayor failed to find any memorable cuisine in LA or DC. So we'll just assume everyone in those two cities subsides on mayonaise sandwiches and boiled potatoes.
He did find something of note in New York though: a section of Harry Cipriani's reserved especially for fat people. As he explains:
The dining room is laid out so that everyone can see everyone else, except for those people the maitre d’ doesn’t want to to see. Those are the people who wear shorts, or those who are overweight. And there’s a section for them.
With the fatties safely hidden from view, Willie focused on perpetual ladyfriend Sonya Molodetskaya and his cooked calf's liver which he so eloquently describes as "a good dish." His only baby beef with the restaurant is the bill: it's so expensive he's going to miss a mortgage payment next month. Which: shut up. No one believes you're paying a mortgage on a residence at the St. Regis. Or paying for dinner for that matter.
Back in San Francisco, Willie returned to Quince, a place he says he hasn't been to in three or four months (even though he has mentioned it in his column every week since). He ate the Salmon. It was excellent. It was apparently shaped like Spam. Also, the "horrible floral arrangement" he hated so much is gone, so mark that up as another victory for the Willie Brown restaurant consulting machine.
In arts reviews this week, Willie mentions "Ghost Light" - a play written and put on by Jonathan Moscone, son of former San Francisco Mayor George Moscone. The play, which is about Jonathan's coming out and George Moscone's role in gay history. According to Willie, nobody remembers that Moscone was the first to appoint an openly gay politician to public office (Harvey Milk on the Board of Permit Appeals, duh). We're pretty sure every amateur political historian in San Francisco was aware of that fact, but Willie's World is generally limited to the restaurant interiors and movie time these days, so he seems a little miffed that mundane bit of the story didn't make it in to Sean Penn's film.
Speaking of movie time, Willie saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2. Even with his senior discount, his seat at a movie aimed at tweenagers cost him a steep 14 bucks. Thinking about how much the movie will pull in has him all wide-eyed and schemey: Even though everyone knows this is the last Harry Potter movie, Willie is cooking up a pitch for a "Son of Harry" sequel. Too bad he's so bored of the cuisine in LA, someone down there ought to toss him a movie producer's gig.
