Food Travels
Militello’s Restaurant: Music & Food, A Beautiful Thing
“El Jaleo!”
I knew when I walked into this tiny glass-enclosed restaurant in Buffalo, NY, that serves every kind of traditional Italian dish, from giambotte to cioppino, homemade bread, great pasta fagiole, good wine–the works, that something was about to happen. There was a buzz, a tingling excitement among this tiny crowd, as if they were anticipating something more than the food.
The tables were all taken and we were invited to sit among strangers…with a wink from the owner that it would be worth this inconvenience. You see, this restaurant is owned by one of the most renowned jazz saxophonists in the land.
So while he, Bobby Militello, was rounding the tables shaking hands and greeting guests, he was also preparing to take sax in hand and sit with some of the most talented jazz musicians of our time and with four tunes, transport us. When he played, I could close my eyes and be in a different place entirely. Was this Paris, Barcelona, Mexico City? I could imagine a warm night, a breeze blowing in, girls tingling with sweat, dresses clinging as they swayed to the music, dipping their bread in thick warm olive oil, sipping dark wine shoulder to shoulder with black-haired lovers. Or maybe it was a family, linking arms, hugging warmly, passing a dish, getting up suddenly to join a circle and dance with abandon.
“Day and night, you are the one…,” what was it about that music that made the wine darker yet, the sauce denser yet, as if every taste, smell was somehow enriched? I imagined the land of my Puerto Rican ancestors where to this day, families gather round tables laden with food, instruments in hand to sing folk songs, sway to the music on warm summer nights.
German folk songs. Paris chansons, Mexican canciones–family members singing traditional songs the way Bobby Militello did tonight when he took a break from his saxophone and sang a ballad sweet and poignant. I think about one of my favorite paintings, John Singer Sargent’s “El Jaleo”–translation, “make a ruckus, make some noise.” I always imagined that at the other end of the room this painting depicts, there was surely a table with jugs of wine and a bounty of food.
So tonight was about yearning; about experiencing something that is so rare, so uncommon that it has left me speechless and almost feeling, well, deprived. It is about yearning for a time and place where live singing, dancing and eating were all done simultaneously and spontaneously, without planning or preparation…musicians bringing instruments to the table, feeling the moment and engaging. In homes, not just in restaurants. There was a time when we were not far from these traditions; but blending-in sometimes means giving up what is natural until you can barely remember it at all. The America of today is one of a polished, spit-shine, fast, direct, homogeneous moving mass, a collective progressing quickly, indulging often and always seeking more, more, more.
As I was leaving tonight, I talked to Lisa, Bobby’s wife, about their Thursday night jazz, how wonderful I thought it was that they were doing this. She explained that it was not a regular occurrence, in fact, it was a special night and does not happen regularly. Bobby would likely not be back for some time, you see, she said, he has his normal gigs and this kind of crowd is rare.
THIS BRUNCH AT CAFE BOULUD, Palm Beach, Florida
Place: Cafe Boulud, Palm Beach, Florida
Occasion: My Birthday
Food: Outrageous and twenty bucks a head for three courses during restaurant week
Atmosphere: Colorful, funky elegance, warm, damp, oozing chic designer peeps with all the trimmings
Best Part: Being with the fam…oh and Dad bought me a set of napkins on the spot, best possible present!
