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PRESS :: NEW YORK PRESS
Best Place to Act Like Someone You're Not
Pick a Look, Any Look. We've got a friend, call him Randy, who likes the figures cut by people in various professions. Say pilots. Or professional fishermen, lawyers, undercover cops, agents, restaurant owners. Whatever. He knows in his mind what each one of these fellows looks like, or more accurately, knows what he'd look like if he had their job. What he'd wear, how he'd stand, how he'd talk, what his hobbies would be. He's got the acts down perfectly.
And what he'll do, this Randy, is every once in a while he'll take on a persona, almost unconsciously, and he'll wear it around town. Meet him at a bar and you'd think he raced cars for a living, ran a charter boat our of Tortola, was deep into an investigation of kickback corruption in Bayside. He's not lying, just telling you what his interests are, and as with any good con artist the fact that you come out of the conversation thinking that he's a Fire Dept. lieutenant is entirely your own fault.
We're not qualified to say what this behavior signifies, but we will say this. Mezzogiorno is a restaurant full of Randys. We're there on a Saturday night, a Tuesday midday, a leisurely Sunday brunch, and the place invariably sports the same crown of fashionably-clad poseurs, most of them in designer shades, Italian loafers, and something in a slim-fit cellular. "I was talking to Mailer the other day," said one pimply-faced, twentysomething brat in a tight black t-shirt and linen blazer during dinner the other night. "I think he's going to come aboard with us."
"Really," replied his companion, a few years older and hopelessly lost in a blue silk jumpsuit. "I think I've got Lyle Lovett in the bag."
Mezzogiorno is a long, thin space, with tons of hard surfaces and box art in the rear. Very L.A. while being very Soho at the same time. There are stellar brick-oven pizzas to be eaten, light flavorful salads, a number of pastas, and, invariably, an excellent soup. The service is unhurried and professional, and the staff treats everyone with an obsequious friendliness that lends itself well to an atmosphere in which everyone is trying desperately to seem more important, more worldly, and ultimately more cool than they really are. Sure that's the m.o. for most upscale Downtown restaurants, and sure that's how nearly everyone you don't know acts when they're out for a meal. What makes Mezzogiorno stand apart is its better food, and the sheer quality of the customers' acting.
Published: September 1993, New York Press
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