"Let's meet at Houston's... Park Avenue and 27th," Bettie suggested for our lunch date today. Swell. I routed the subway on Hopstop.com, wrote down the addy, 378 Park Avenue, and arrived... to find nada. No Houston's. No 378! I was just beginning my meltdown on the phone with Ayhan to help figure out what I had done wrong (besides not having Bettie's cell number in my cell's contact list), when there she was, standing in front of me, thank god.
"Oops, I guess I didn't tell you the owner of Houston's changed the name of four of his restaurants to Hillstone..." which was located on the corner of Park and 27th, as promised— only with no signage in front, much less a number. I guess you're just supposed to know.
One step inside and all calm was restored. What a beauty! Bettie and I both had two delish sides for lunch: she the Brussels Sprouts and Wilted Spinach, and meese an enormous fluffy loaded Idaho Baked Potato and "Nice Little House Salad," with fresh blue cheese dressing. Aces!
It's a bit absurd that somehow Bettie and I—former industry colleagues (she at Sony Music, meese at Billboard)—haven't connected for the better part of a year. But like good allies, poof, the time melted away. Brilliant outing.