— I'm so glad we could get together at this cozy little 24-seater for our tête-à-tête.
— You can thank my shrink; he told me to quit having intimate dinners for two unless there was another person around.
— It's such a charming room, dimly lit with a chandelier and flickering candles, decorated family photos on the walls. It makes me think I'm dining at home. And the service is so personal; they really seem to care about each diner. Shall we start with a drink?
— I thought you'd never ask.
— Paul Goerg Blanc De Blancs champagne is served by the glass. Let's each have one and share a crispy duck confit salad with grilled apricots ($15) while we decide what to eat.
— If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, it probably needs more time in the microwave.
— Ha-ha, very funny. But I was hoping we could cut down on the jokes tonight and have a serious, personal discussion. First let's decide the menu. The flavors are intense here. A lot of the ingredients used by chefs Horacio Rivadero and Christian Alvarez are locally sourced and organic.
— I like organic farmers. They till it like it is.
— The vanilla butternut squash soup ($11), by the way, is to die for. Plus I've had the pan-roasted chicken with fingerling potatoes and morel mushrooms ($22). It's divine.
— I'm just wondering: Do chickens think rubber humans are funny?
— Can't you be serious for a second? I mean, that's really what I wanted to discuss with you tonight. I can't go on like this. We come to this most romantic of places and all you can do is make inane wisecracks. We're through. Do you understand? I mean, we'll have our meal first, of course — I'm not giving that up for you — but then that's it. And believe me, I will never go out with a comedy writer again. Never!
— So two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other: "Does this taste funny to you?"