For the nine months of her pregnancy, my wife was prohibited from eating things that are Bad For The Baby: cold cuts, sushi, vodka, lead paint chips, and so on. So now that she’s no longer sharing her body with the little rascal, I asked her what was the first thing off the forbidden menu she wanted to eat. No hesitation. Out of all the things in New York City she could have, she requested a Dana Special from Esposito’s. We’ve talked about G. Esposito & Sons before here. These guys are old school butchers who have a killer assortment of fine meats, Italian foods, and they are no joke with the Dagwood-style sandwiches, either. We haven’t come close to trying them all yet, but there can be no doubt that the Dana Special is one of the most eminently cravable sandwiches ever.Picture a fresh crusty sesame seed hero baked a block away at Caputo’s Bakery, stuffed to the brim with Italian ham, spicy soppressato, marinated sweet peppers, fresh Buffalo mozzarella, oil, balsamic vinegar, salt and pep… and the colpo di grazia? Paper thin-sliced eggplant, lightly breaded and perfectly fried. Sweet and tart, salty and crunchy, its no wonder that this was the sandwich of all sandwiches my wife wished to eat after nine months. And being a good husband I ordered one for me, too. Solidarity! Can’t let her do this thing alone, am I right?
There’s a new baby on the way! Courtney and I will be expecting our second child this coming April, and we are thoroughly delighted. This past Friday was the 20 week marker, notable primarily because it’s the point in time where the “anatomical sonogram” is performed. Using some crazy Starship Enterprise technology, the technicians are able to measure the baby’s relevant bits on a television in real-time directly in front of you. It is a humbling and bizarre experience for sure, made even more thrilling because they can also determine your baby’s sex for the first time. Know what makes it an infinitely less thrilling experience? Having to share this incredible life-changing special moment with some dour sonogram technician. Why they are so grumpy, I have no idea.But a friend gave us the following idea, and it is brilliant: at the moment when they determine on the monitor whether the result is twig and berries or lack thereof, we avert our eyes and ask the technician to write the sex down on a card and seal it in an envelope. Then we pick a local restaurant for dinner that evening for The Big Reveal, and over dinner and drinks (well, I guess the drinks are just for me) we open up the envelope. Words cannot express how truly wonderful it is to see the magic words on the page with your loving spouse seated across with tears in her eyes…and a delicious appetizer between you. In that moment, all is right with the universe.
IT’S A BOY!