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The garden, the garden, the garden–that's all I've ever heard about this
place. I'm not even a garden person (if there is such a thing), but I was
finally convinced. Perhaps a little too late, as it was the Tues. following
Labor Day, and while calendar-ly inaccurate, the end of summer to the rest
of the reactionary world. Bah, it's still warm out.

It was my second anniversary with a former stalkee. Convincing on object
of obsession to go out with you is no small feat in itself, but maintaining
the whole affair for 730 days (was there a leap year in there?) deserves a
celebration to be sure.

And there's where Mooza came into play. Gardens are romantic, no? I
didn't want a break the bank bash, nor did I desire a bland burrito in the
East Village. This was middle ground, an appropriate choice. We both had
black currant champagne cocktails, and shared a ceviche. There was also a
mussels dish with shrimp tempura as a starter. I opted for a seafood pasta
special, while James tried a lamb concoction with a cranberry sauce (nothing
like the jellied Thanksgiving variety). All was pleasing, though half-way
through the meal I realized we were the only ones left in the garden. It was
mildly disconcerting. I don't feel that 11pm on a weeknight is ungodly for
dining alfresco (though I've been getting tired earlier and earlier these
days. I just can't admit to the fact that I'm now 29. I don't care if my
bones ache and bags form under my eyes–I'm not going to bed before
midnight!). I can only attribute the sparse clientele to perceived change in
season. A little nip in the air isn't going to put a damper on my spirits,
no way. (9/4/01)

Mooza shuttered some time ago. I think it's One91 (so clever) now.

Mooza * 191 Orchard St., New York, NY

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