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Frank

It may sound blasphemous, but if there were one cuisine I'd have to give up
for life it'd probably be Italian food. I know, I know, everyone
likes Italian food, right? There's nothing wrong with it; it's just never on
the top of my list when the subject of eating out comes up. And yes, I
realize that not all Italian cooking is based on the meatballs and spaghetti
covered in red sauce formula, but I'm still not a convert.

I'd heard mixed stuff about the place, but thought I'd see for myself.
If the length of the wait to be seated were an indication as to the quality,
then Frank would be a four star restaurant. The thing is, it's just a small
place. They don't take reservations and at 8 pm on a Thursday, I ended up
waiting for about an hour. (They do offer to call you when your table's
ready in case you want to take off, but being the last person on earth
without a cell phone, this didn't do me much good.) Fortunately, I wasn't
fazed by the wait. I was in a good mood since I thought I was just meeting a
boyfriend for a run-of-the-mill dinner and instead he showed up with
flowers, elevating the event to a "date."

On to the meal…I'm not even close to being a wine expert so I ordered
some $10 glass of red wine that I don't even remember the name of. Whatever
it was, my beverage suited the appetizer of mussels in a spicy, garlicky
tomato broth and roasted garlic bread. For the main course I tried the
ravioli of the day, which was porcini and potato. Now that I think about it,
the dish had all the makings of a pierogi, albeit in a cream sauce rather
than dipped in sour cream. Maybe the ravioli was successful in my eyes since
it was moving in a Polish direction rather than being quintessentially
Italian. The meal was wrapped up with tiramisu, which was pretty
tiramisu-ish.

Everything tasted how you thought it would from looking at it. Nothing
was bad, but nothing was spectacular either. I just crave a little more
oomph to my food than Frank delivered. I won't write off an entire cuisine,
of course. I'm still on the lookout for that Italian meal that makes me sit
up and take notice.


Frank* 88 Second Ave.,
New York, NY

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