Last night, we had dinner at The Mermaid Inn on Amsterdam between 87th and 88th. Excellent seafood restaurant with a really solid menu and a few interesting twists on things. (The seared calmari salad with wild mushrooms, frisee and feta was amazing.)The most random part of the meal was at the end when our waitress brought us two little cups of chocoate mousse (the mini desserts are on the house with every meal) and our fortune fishes. That's right, our fortune fishes. (Well, you can't expect a seafood restaurant to have fortune cookies now, can you?)
The fortune fish comes in a little plastic envelope ("open it like you would a pillowcase", our waitress explained) and when you hold the thin-as-paper, red translucent plastic fish in your hand, you watch it intently and then use the legend on the envelop to interpret what its movements mean.
If it moves its head, you're jealous. It it moves its tail, you're indifferent. If the sides curl up, you're fickle and it it's completely motionless... well, it's dead.
Mine moved its head AND its tail and Chet's threw itself unceremoniously into his cappuccino. We're not sure what that says about Chet's fortune, but I do plan to track down our cab driver with proof now that fish DO drown.
2 comments:
Bravo! Fish do drown. BTW, still not sure what the suicidal fish means for my future. Will keep you posted. Had a great evening out and hope to see you again soon.
Fish DO drown! (I looked it up. Of COURSE I did.) I think your fish was simply looking for a caffeine fix.
Post a Comment