Tag Archives: Amarone

Going home again (a cautionary tale)

By dint of some plumbing and electrical work we did for an out-of-state customer, I found myself back in the wilds of northern New Jersey. Not in just any burg, mind you, but the very one that coddled and nurtured yours truly during my formative years, from angelic babe to irascible teen…

That’s right—Teaneck!

Ah, Teaneck, NJ, home of the ‘Highwaymen’ (tell me there’s a better high school mascot than that) and widely regarded as the very cradle of civilization as we know it.

After a lunch trip down memory lane that included a passable pastrami sandwich and some German potato salad that I’d spent years wrongly mythologizing, I ended the day having dinner with a lovely group of people  at Amarone.

Company excluded, the meal left much to be desired. Everything—from the Portabello mushroom appetizer to the wild salmon entree—was awash in far more sauce than was necessary/healthy. Don’t get me wrong, it was plenty edible, and thanks to my hosts, there was plenty of it. But the quality? To quote another CTML post, ‘meh.’

The real attraction, then, was the bathroom, which obviously reflected the style of Amarone’s hosts: A father-son-team that looked straight out of Soprano’s central casting—not the suave, well-dressed gangster type, but the working-stiffs-who-know-somebody-who-knows-somebody type.

The men’s room is a small, cramped affair (one-seater, no urinal), with an assortment of hygienic & grooming products. Standing apart from the rest, however, was the small jar of Ultra Sheen hair gel; the same goop that’s obviously the very lifeblood of the operation, judging by the generously slicked coifs of the aforementioned proprietors.

Ye olde accouterments

Rating of chew: 2 out of 5

Rating of loo: 2 out of 5 (and that’s all hair gel, baby!)