the petrossian

circa 1994:
"daddy's caviar got taken away at customs because security thought it was a can of bullets," mum explained when a crabby pops returned home from a business trip overseas.
"ma, what's caviar?" asked a four year old me.
"fish eggs, honey," she replied.
i was exasperated.
*i didn't actually say "what the fuck."

17 years later, this past saturday:
it's 2pm.
i have just gotten out of my tap class.
and i want a hot dog...
make that two hot dogs
 {from the food stand on 66th}
and fries.
also a burger,
maybe some kung pao chicken...
and ice cream,
mint chocolate chip ice cream!!! what's for lunch?


it was time.
it was just time.
pops and i had reservations.
and it was just time,
since that one fateful day in '94,
i still had not tasted caviar.
and if it was going to happen at all,
it was going to be with the pops,
and it was going to be at 

as i approached the beautifully carved piece of art at that is the petrossian,
{a building i've walked by and drooled over so many times on the way to carnegie}
i got the same nervous feeling that i sometimes get as i'm about to perform or take an audition.
i was about to try caviar,
and i was scared!

see you must know, 
i only just tried fish for the first time very recently,
and, still, i only really eat salmon.
so this was a very stressful situation for me to the point where butterflies jumbled in my tummy.

without further ado,

the first course:

with duck and mushrooms

it was pretty tasty,
sorta cold,
  and i sorta ate around the mushrooms because i am still not fully comfortable with them.

the main course:
{oh geez, here it goes...}

for pops:
cucumber and crème fraiche sandwich,
transmontanus usa farmed caviar

pour moi:

cheese omelette,
transmontanus usa farmed caviar

don't think about it, molly, just do it!

 like ripping off a band aid,
i just did it.






totally bored.

it was nothing surprising because, 
it was exactly the smell of fish,
but in my mouth,
and it was mushy,
and jell-oey.

...and i still wanted a hot dog.

pops' sandwich was fine.
but give me some melba toast and some cukes and i'll make you somethin real nice, too.

and my omelette?
i've had airplane omelettes that were better.

oh heavens, i feel so bad dissing such an institution.
but, really, i can't love a place that serves cold food,
runny omelettes,
and {according to the pops who is quite the caviar connoisseur }
lower quality caviar 
during restaurant week.

dessert was:

red fruit mousse 


opera cake

both fantastically mediocre.

i'm sorry petrossian,
you are so pretty.
i wanted to like you, i really did!
but unfortunately,
i don't think i'll be back.



the petrossian is located on west 58th and 7th ave, just below central park.