NY Mirror

Actually you'd still be suicidal. After all, you have to sit in the lotus position as your kimono-wearing server, Seymour, screams the specials over the Ultimate Kylie CD. You thought he said wasabi scrod, but he actually brings walrus scrotum, and on skewers yet! It's being served dysfunctional-family-style, so you and your party have to battle it out over every bite, torn between friendship and survival. Models love this place—but then again models don't eat, do they? Ready to run home to the Stouffer's, you sign the credit card bill and nobly check the box that adds a specified tip. Seymour brings back your receipt, which shows he gave himself a larger percentage. (This actually happened to me at Tavern on the Green.) At least he had a great beverage recommendation—$20 shots of the Latvian liquor, served warm. You jump into a cab and notice your driver is the ex-door god.

Masa's and Johnson

What irks Page Six pooh-bah RICHARD JOHNSON, eventwise? Well, he abhors overcrowded parties and loathes the Au Bon Pain in his building's lobby. ("Nineteen of the 20 minimum-wage employees are wandering around pretending to be busy," Johnson told me, "so only one is available to ring up the eight customers on line.") It's an Au Bon Pain in the ass—but Johnson's really got it in for Masa, the four-star restaurant he calls "the most overpriced sushi joint in town. You are basically in a windowless nook in a shopping mall. The minimalist decor looks more like Ikea."

Welcome to the club—now go away!
photo: Staci Schwartz
Welcome to the club—now go away!


His experience there? "They put out a huge bucket of ice to keep our sake cold. The bucket leaked and ice was spilled every time they poured. The signature dish—raw lobster and foie gras dipped quickly into broth—was fine, but then we were urged to drink the broth, which was boiling hot, and no one could figure out how to blow out the Sterno. Our tongues were blistered. Everyone I have talked to who has eaten there has had that same dish, even though Masa's supposedly changing the menu each night. After the umpteenth serving of raw fish three hours later, we were bored and still kinda hungry. But TONY BOURDAIN loves it, so maybe I'm just a Philistine." Or maybe Tony Bourdain loves having a blistered tongue and ice water stains.


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