Review - Edward Albee's At Home at the Zoo: Homelife & The Zoo Story

We all know how I love Edward Albee's plays.  No need to go over that again.  When my favorite theater, Signature, announced they would be doing the Homelife/The Zoo Story combo this season, I made sure to mark my calendar for the day single tickets went on sale.  And after they announced the cast?  I was even MORE excited to see the show!  Last night was the appointed night...

I've only seen The Zoo Story once in my life, though I've read it dozens of times over the years.  The only time I've seen it, however, was when Second Stage premiered the new play, Homelife, starring Bill Pullman, back in 2007.  I remember enjoying the production and performances, though was perhaps iffy on why we needed a prequel at all.  You can remind yourself of my thoughts on that evening HERE, when I shared them after Albee's passing.  When I think back on that production, though, I'm a little less positive than I am in that review about at least one performance.  And after seeing the show last night, I'm even less positive about the previous production because last night was simply fantastic.

photo credit: Joan Marcus

Two of my very favorite stage actors, Robert Sean Leonard and Katie Finneran, are starring in the first act, Homelife, and they are terrific.  They're naturally funny and find the humor so easily, yet they can turn deadly serious on a dime, and not seem false.  They are instantly recognizable and comfortable together, and they are so at ease with the fascinating random non-sequitors they throw at each other until they finally land on something concrete.  Her ennui with him, and his satisfaction with their lives are so spontaneously performed, the words just sounded so fresh and new to me.  And his revelation about a moment from his past was beautifully delivered.  And so illuminating about everything that follows.  Throughout, I was thinking "wow, that last production just kind of got this wrong," which isn't a very nice thing to think, I guess, but this time my eyes were opened to why this prequel could be important.  Understanding why Peter responds the way he does in the second act, and understanding why he'd be willing to stake a claim on something as inconsequential as a bench.  Not that everything has to be understandable, and wanting more can be a good thing, but I just really enjoyed how each piece played off the other.

Since I saw the show the first time before my surgery, hearing the extended diatribes about voluntary double mastectomies hit me in a different and personal way than they did before, which is understandable.  I actually didn't even remember that section of the script - I was sort of snapped into a different kind of attention.  But now really understanding the loss and bewilderment that Ann is talking about is something else I could bring to the first act and then be able to tie it into the second.  

photo credit: Joan Marcus

Of course, The Zoo Story remains as funny and as terrifying as ever.  Again, I love Robert Sean Leonard and I found him to be perfection.  His reactions were so natural and so engaging - even with very few lines, you could see his surprised delight at the verbal sparring, the privilege just seeping out of him and the stubborn terror that begins much too late.  I also greatly enjoyed Paul Sparks' Jerry, who I thought found a terrific balance of smart, funny, scary and sad.  His aria about the dog was spectacular and then the ending was so poignant.  This man, literally dying for a connection to another human, is an amazing theatrical creation.  The way Albee uses language, in both acts, is masterful.  Obviously.  I loved every minute of watching the show.

After the performance, there was a talkback, with a lit manager from Signature, and Katie Finneran and Paul Sparks.  It was actually a fun event, because Finneran is so quirky and interesting, and is just really naturally funny.  One of the questions was from a gent on the side of the house that perhaps had a harder time seeing everything that was going on, and suddenly Finneran had a whole comedy routine based around how the gent must not have been paying attention to her, then Sparks joined in, saying he had done the entire dog aria, imagining the dog was in that particular gent's lap and if he didn't notice, well... It was pretty funny and the gent was a very good sport about the ribbing (and after the talkback was over, Finneran walked over to him and asked him, seriously, if he felt he missed something because of the staging; it was very sweet).  There was one woman, definitely younger than me, who had no idea that these weren't new plays and she was a bit offended that there weren't any women in Zoo Story and did perhaps the #metoo movement get discussed at all in rehearsal?  I have to admit I looked at that woman with astonishment.  How can anyone who is going to Signature Theatre not know Zoo Story?!  I guess it's a good thing I wasn't on the panel, I may have involuntarily rolled my eyes at her.  Finneran's answer was very thoughtful and way more respectful than I probably would've been.  She did talk about how she and the director, the wonderful Lila Neugebauer, discussed how to make Ann a fully three-dimensional character, even without a lot of dialogue.  And it seemed to me that Ann now was more of an equal to Peter, with Finneran's very smart and very warm performance.  I may be remembering incorrectly, but the characters were played with more of a chill in the other production I saw, and I can honestly say I prefer this interpretation.  Other people may disagree, I guess.  I only know that I'm ever so glad I saw (the very awkwardly titled) Edward Albee's At Home At The Zoo: Homelife & The Zoo Story.  It paid homage to a great writer and showed even more facets of his talent.  Long may he wave.

Review - John Lithgow: Stories By Heart

A generous Tony-voter pal invited me to join her yesterday at Roundabout's production of John Lithgow: Stories by Heart.  I thought sure, I like John Lithgow!  He's one of my very favorite actors.  And I especially like free tickets!  😊  I sort of knew what the show was about, but not completely.  So it was with few expectations that I entered the American Airlines Theatre.

The house was full, which was nice, but the audience did skew a little...uh...mature.  It seems to me that Roundabout's Broadway house caters to this audience, which I have a bit of an issue with.  But I digress.  To be honest, I had a perfectly pleasant afternoon - John Lithgow is very engaging and he certainly knows how to tell a story (the fact that both of the stories he chose to tell sort of had negative depictions of the disabled had to be a coincidence, right?).  But I don't think I realized that he would be doing a reader's theater interpretation of two short stories onstage - I thought it would be more of a personal story with reminiscences of his life.  Well, there were some personal stories here and there and they were my favorite parts of the piece.  I would've liked to hear more about Lithgow's childhood and family, and less of the short stories, no matter how well he performed them.  I guess I just don't get why we would want to see that kind of piece in a Broadway house?  I mean, I know his point (I gather) was to relay his love of storytelling and his love for his father, and how stories and love are intertwined, but still...

photo credit: Sara Krulwich

The first act was built around a Ring Lardner short story called "Haircut," and it was a deceptively folksy, homespun tale that suddenly turned quite dark.  I enjoyed Lithgow's telling, and his acting, of the story, but my mind wandered here and there, and again I wished he were telling me something new, instead of reading me a story.  I found the second act story, "Uncle Fred Flits By," by P.G. Wodehouse, more engaging, probably because it was sillier and funnier, and it gave Lithgow the opportunity to play several characters and he was terrific in all of his roles.

All in all, Stories by Heart is being given a beautiful production - the set and lights are lovely and it moves quite elegantly throughout.  I enjoyed myself, but it just seemed, I don't know, not enough.  But I guess that's on me.  People around me seemed to be enjoying it just fine, without my hesitation.  Here's what really stuck with me, though - in the opening bits, Lithgow talked about his father, and about how he was so thrilled to be able to utter his dad's name on a Broadway stage.  THAT really moved me.  In fact, any time he expressed his love and admiration for his dad (well, his mom, too, but the show was built around memories of his dad), I was moved.  And so I started to think about my wonderful dad and how I would love to say HIS name on a Broadway stage someday.  Hopefully, some day I will be able to.  

But until that day, I'm going to use the rest of this post to tell a couple of inconsequential stories about my daddy, whom I believe to be a great man (my mother is a great woman, and deserving of many blog posts exclusively about her, but since Lithgow's show focused on his dad, I'm going to follow suit).  To loosely quote Jane Austen (and probably Emma Thompson), he is the kindest and best of men.  Throughout my life, my mom has been the dominant parent - as a stay-at-home mom, she had the most daily influence on me and my sister.  But my dad also enjoyed his opportunities to spend time with us outside the home, as our softball coach and as a guide/mentor in our various extracurricular clubs.  I'm sure that his book-reading, theater-loving daughter was completely alien to him, but he never ever has made me feel that way.  I have never felt anything but complete support and encouragement from him.  From the day I was born, both parents made me feel as if I could be whatever I wanted to be, if I was willing to work hard and be kind.  I like to think I learned a thing or two from them.

My dad is a very sensitive, gentle, loving man, who was rather emotionally abandoned by his family as a teen, but he was quickly adopted and adored by his in-laws, my mom's family.  He often refers to them as his brothers and sisters, not his in-laws.  My parents got married when they were quite young (my dad was just a little older than my nephew at the wedding, which terrifies me!).  You could almost say we grew up together.  And after seeing and feeling the effects of knowing that some kids in his family were loved more than the others, he made sure to treat my sister and me the same; he loves and appreciates us both, even though she and I are complete opposites.  I know he thinks we are the smartest, prettiest, most wonderful girls in the world and that's ok.  I believe him when he says it. He also knows that I'm not the best athlete, or the best driver, and he teases all the livelong day, but that's ok as well.  I'm grateful that he knows and appreciates me for who I am.  We've had our disagreements over the years, but we know how to listen to each other's perspectives with respect, even when we know we won't change the other's mind.

One of my favorite stories about my dad is from when I was seven or eight.  I had a bad habit of picking at my fingernails (unfortunately, I've started that bad habit again; maybe I need him to step in again) and my mom despaired of ever making me stop.  She threatened to spank me, and when that didn't work, she demanded my dad take me into the bathroom and give me a couple of whacks.  So he led me to the bathroom.  Once in there, I was silently crying, scared I was going to be spanked, and my daddy whispered to me, "Cry louder, as if I'm spanking you."  Because he just couldn't do it.  I'm not sure if my theater career was born that night, but I tried to be more careful about my fingers after that, because I didn't want to get him into trouble with my mom.

When we were little, my dad used to go deer hunting with his father and brothers.  He kept a couple of rifles downstairs.  I don't think he enjoyed hunting all that much, but he did enjoy spending time with his father, even though they were never all that close.  Or as close as my father wished they could've been.  I never liked those rifles, and I avoided looking at them whenever I went to the basement.  Eventually, I stopped going to the basement.  When I was in college, I asked my dad to please get rid of the rifles, because they scared me and made me sad after the death of a loved one.  And he got rid of them.  Nothing else had to be said.  I only wish I had asked him sooner, because I know he would've listened to me.

There are a million sweet stories about my dad, but I'll just close with one from last year.  He doesn't really understand what I do for a living, though he's proud to tell people his daughter lives and works in New York.  But, last year, I was featured in an email campaign at my work.  My mom told me later that he had her print out the email and he takes it with him to his lodge meetings, to show off his baby.  That's my wonderful daddy, who loves unconditionally, and who deserves to have his name shouted from all the stages.  Thank you, John Lithgow, for reminding me of that...

Playing Catch-Up

Wow, I have been so busy lately!  I've been seeing things, yes, but I've also been swamped at work and at home, so I apologize for the radio silence.  I'm hoping to get my ducks in a row soon and not let so much time go by between posts.  Here is a brief(ish) report of what I've been up to:

photo credit: Joan Marcus

I went to City Center to see Hey, Look Me Over, the new Encores revue show.  I mainly bought a ticket because Douglas Sills was going to be doing numbers from Mack and Mabel, which is one of those time-machine shows for me (I wish I'd seen the original production).  Hey, Look Me Over had a song or two from nine shows that they have wanted to produce over the years, but haven't done so for one reason or another.  The show was tied together by the delightful Bob Martin, who recreated his Man in Chair character from The Drowsy Chaperone.  I enjoyed the evening, and Martin's commentary, quite a lot, though I thought they could've cut at least one represented musical, if not two.  But Douglas Sills was indeed sublime as Mack Sennett and got one of the biggest ovations of the evening.  The other huge ovation was for Clifton Duncan and his amazing performance of "Never Will I Marry" from Greenwillow.  He really was thrilling.  I was also quite taken with Reed Birney and Judy Kuhn's touching performance of "Once Upon a Time" from All-American.  Oh, and I always enjoy Bebe Neuwirth, who was tart perfection performing some Noel Coward.  So I'm glad I went to see Hey, Look Me Over; I only wish we had gotten to see the 'secret guest star' the night I went.  Oh well, I guess you can't have everything.

I went to readings of two new musicals, one rather old-fashioned and one rather new-wave and I enjoyed them both.  Since they were readings, I won't say anything else, but I will keep my eye on both projects.  On Valentine's Day, I made a return visit to Once on This Island with a group of co-workers - the show made me cry as always, though I admit that I missed the ending that I had seen in the preview performance in November.  But the two new cast members, Norm Lewis (who is just PERFECT in everything he does) and Tamyra Gray were excellent additions and I loved the show just as much in my second viewing as I did in my first.  Norm may have pushed my enjoyment level even higher than before, since he is absolutely sublime.  I actually think I need to see the show again, although the cast album comes out next week; maybe I can make do with that.  I was a bit sad about how empty the house was at my performance; I hope it was just because it was a Wednesday matinee in February and not that the show is in any trouble of closing.  It's just too beautiful to not be the most popular show in town.

Last Thursday, I went to a new play at Ensemble Studio Theatre - Against the Hillside.  The playwright, Sylvia Khoury, who I know through my work, invited me to see the show and I'm so grateful she did.  It's a smart and timely play, written with care and humanity, about the toll drone warfare takes on everyone, both the perpetrators and the victims.  I thought the acting was excellent and enjoyed not knowing where this story, one I haven't seen before, would take me.  And the coda was completely unexpected and terrific.  I was very invested in every character's story and I thought each character was depicted with beautiful humanity.  I should've written about the play in more detail, and earlier, since it closes this weekend, but I did want to at least share her name, so that you can keep an eye out for what she writes next.  I know I will.

Then last weekend, for the holiday weekend, I took myself on a tiny adventure.  REALLY tiny, just out to Uniondale, Long Island.  There is a new tennis tournament out there, the New York Open.  It's the first year, and the USTA sent out a discount ticket offer to its members a while ago.  I've had this ticket for a really long time and had been looking forward to it for a really long time, too.  After seeing that the Long Island Railroad and the subways weren't really connecting last weekend, I opted to get a hotel room at the nearby Long Island Marriott, so I wouldn't have to worry about hurrying to catch a last train after the tennis was over.  I'm glad I did that - the hotel was literally in the parking lot of the Nassau Coliseum (where the tennis tournament was being held), so that was perfect.  I got to see two terrific tennis matches, both of them going three sets, and stay in a comfortable hotel AND order room service.  Oh, and I rode in the elevator with one of the players.  Whee!  Win-win, all around.  I think, if I go back next year, I will get tickets for Friday night and Saturday afternoon, to make my time there last longer.  It did feel as if I traveled more than I watched tennis, but I'm glad I went.  I'm afraid I'm too tired to talk about the players, or the matches in more detail, but believe me when I say the tennis was well-played and the victories were hard-fought.  I'll put some photos below.

Geez, this post is really long, sorry.  I've also seen two new plays this week, but I really only liked one of them, and it's in previews.  But you should go see it: Some Old Black Man, by James Anthony Tyler, at 59E59 Theater.  I know James through my job as well, and I love him, so I imagine I'm predisposed to enjoy his work, but enjoy it I did.  He writes such beautifully real characters and his plots are contemporary, but the essence of what he's saying is universal.  I laughed and I cried and I recognized the problems these two characters were struggling with.  The play is still in previews, and I saw an understudy for one of the two actors, so I won't say anything other than please go see this play.  I plan to go back towards the end of the run - you should go see it, too.  I should also mention that I saw it with a group of dear dear ones, and that made the evening special as well.  But James is another playwright worth keeping your eye on, so please do.

I think that's all the news that's fit to print.  I've discovered a new liqueur that I'm fond of and hope to enjoy more cocktails including it.  I have a couple of plays coming up this week, so I promise to try to be more on top of the blogging.  I have also tried a couple of new recipes, which may or may not be blog-worthy.  I'll keep you posted.  And I'll try not to be such a stranger...

not my train

I got on the wrong train, so...frustrated.

Nassau Coliseum

back door of my hotel

view from back door of my hotel!

pretty tasty, for stadium food

view of the stadium from my room

this WAS my train!  :)

Review - Until the Flood

Whenever I start to think of what I want to say about Dael Orlandersmith's Until the Flood, I start to cry.  The experience of seeing the show was that moving to me, and even more moving the farther out I get from it.  I guess that's as good a place as any to start, though I may have trouble finding words that are 'right' enough to describe it.

I've long been a fan of Orlandersmith's - her writing, her acting, her activism.  She's also a delightful human being, which is an added bonus to her talent.  The last piece of hers that I saw, Forever, was a wonderful evening out (you can remind yourself of my thoughts on that play HERE).  When I received the ticket offer for this new show at Rattlestick, I immediately emailed my handsome friend with whom I saw Forever and we found a mutually beneficial night to head downtown.  Unfortunately, he got stuck out of town last night and didn't make it back in time to see Until the Flood with me, which made me sad.  Doubly sad, really - sad that I didn't see him and sad that he didn't see this wonderfully moving play. 

photo credit: Sara Krulwich

Until the Flood is Orlandersmith's response to the Michael Brown shooting in Ferguson, MO.  Obviously, this is going to be a fraught topic, given the heated passion on both sides of the events there, and this amazing writer did not shy away from the pain on both sides.  After interviewing people in Ferguson - black and white, young and old - Orlandersmith fashioned her play as a series of monologues, meant to show people's responses to the tragedy, rather than point fingers or assign blame.  None of the characters were directly involved with the shootings, they're just all local people offering opinions, historical background and personal takes on what happened.  An interesting article about Orlandersmith's process is in an old issue of American Theatre magazine; if you're interested, you can read it HERE).

photo credit: Robert Altman

It's amazing how even-handed and empathetic Orlandersmith is portraying all of these characters - they're all so real and three-dimensional, I occasionally forgot the same woman was playing all of the roles.  Even the most racist, horrific example of white hate was presented without agenda.  If each character broke my heart in some way, the one who may stay with me the longest was the minister, who talks about going to the protests and offering to pray for people, both black and white, and who can somehow find the love in everything, because that's how she lives her life through her god.  I admit that the face of all that forgiveness nearly shamed me, because I have such rage at what has been done to people of color in this country.  The fact that Orlandersmith can present humanity in all its facets, without judging, is humbling to me.

photo credit: Robert Altman

Of course, now that I've written down that the minister may stay with me, I think about the young teen boy, who speaks tough and seems to have a death wish, then he tells a story about one of his teachers, ending it with wanting to go home with that teacher, wanting that teacher to be his father.  Just heartbreaking.  Or the other teen, who just wants out.  Who just wants to survive for one more year until he can get out.  Devastating.  Or the chill of actually seeing how hate can start in a child - horrifying to see but necessary to try to understand.

There is also humor and humanity in Until the Flood, it's not all heartbreak and tears.  But the profound empathy and deep exploration of the human condition makes this show incredibly worthwhile and an excellent addition to the conversations that are happening all over this country, in the wake of all the hate that seems to be flooding our government and regular citizens.  If we could all be as good a listener and as good at expressing understanding as Dael Orlandersmith, we'd all be a lot better off.

Tangential notes around my evening: after the performance, there was a talkback.  I was very excited, thinking we would get to spend more time with Orlandersmith, but no, a staff member from 'community relations' came out to get our feelings about what we just saw, starting with our taking a collective deep breath.  Um.  I have to admit I was feeling a little cynical about that zen take on things, and I'm not sure it led to any substantive conversation, but I was enormously impressed with the staff member's ability to listen to the rants of the rather crazy woman in the front row and then to smoothly transition to another topic.  That took some skill.  

Oh, and before the show, I got the subway at Times Square.  I could hear some snippets of a Journey song - being a girl of the 80s, I admit to loving Steve Perry, so I tried to get closer to hear what was happening.  It was the song "Separate Ways" and it was being sung by a little kid, who couldn't have been more than ten years old, belting his lungs out like Steve Perry!  It was pretty cool.  Much cooler than the conversation between two millennial gals I overheard on the subway downtown: one of them actually said the words, "I don't know, it's that woman who Emma Stone played in some tennis movie."  Sigh.  Sometimes I weep for my younger generations, who don't know who came before them and made their lives a little easier by their fighting for what is right.  So thanks, Billie Jean King.  And thanks, Dael Orlandersmith, for listening to those who came before, during and after the events in Ferguson, and for trying to find a way past the struggle and a way into understanding and healing.  There's only a week left in the run of Until the Flood - please go see it and help keep the conversation going...

A Flashback and a RIP

The sad news that actor John Mahoney passed away Sunday really struck me.  Not only was he tons of fun on Frasier for all those years, but he was also in one of my very favorite movie scenes of all time: the scene in Moonstruck where he tries to explain middle-aged men to Olympia Dukakis.  That scene is written magnificently and is even more magnificently acted by Mahoney and Dukakis.  I once tweeted about how much I love that scene and I was pleasantly surprised to get so much agreement online, even from some of the movie's cast members.  I believe that's the first time I ever saw Mahoney and he was forever in my mind as one of my favorite actors, no matter the project.  He will most definitely be missed.

When Roundabout Theatre Company announced in 2007 they were reviving Craig Lucas' brilliant Prelude to a Kiss and that John Mahoney would be playing the old man, I was IN.  Well, I was in as soon as Roundabout announced they were doing the play at all, since I adore Craig and his plays, but the addition of John Mahoney sealed the deal.  I knew he would be wonderful and I was not wrong.  So, to celebrate John Mahoney and to share an old review from my archives, I present this flashback from 2007 - I'm not sure why it was so brief, maybe because I sent it out alongside another review, but please enjoy: 

3/5/2007:  Prelude to a Kiss is such a lovely, delicate script that says so much about life, love and who we are.  It's one of my very favorite plays (and Craig Lucas is one of my very favorite playwrights).  It's a beautiful almost-fairy tale, yet it's sad and humane as well.  It is just a gorgeously written script, with a lot of truth and longing and humor, and it’s being given a lovely production at Roundabout right now.  And the absolute number one reason for its success is John Mahoney, who is giving a fantastic performance as the old man.  Really grand Tony-worthy work.  That monologue in the second act is breathtaking - he doesn't add any fancy actor-business, he just lets Craig's beautiful words land and break your heart.  "We might as well have a good time while we're here, don't you think?"  

photo credit: Sara Krulwich

I liked Alan Tudyk a lot, Annie Parisse maybe not as much, but she wasn’t bad or anything.  She was actually perfectly fine, but she just sort of played the text (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, I guess) and didn’t delve any further.  I suppose my main quibble is I didn’t see the fear that grips this character, and if you don’t see the fear, you don’t really have a reason to rejoice when she says “I’m not afraid anymore.”  Perhaps that’s just me.  But the beauty of the final exchange between Rita and Peter is still sublime: "Never to be squandered...the miracle of another human being."  I just want to cry even typing it, let alone hearing it.  Oh, and I don't want to forget to mention that James Rebhorn and Robin Bartlett play Rita's parents and are terrific, as is the original music by John Gromada.  I give the production a great big thumbs up.  Don't ever squander the opportunity to see a Craig Lucas play.  😊

Winter RW 2018 - Riverpark

I had hoped to get in a few more lunches with friends for Restaurant Week, but schedules right now are tight.  I decided to take myself to one last place until Restaurant Week comes back at the end of the summer.  Since we're in the middle of watching the latest season of Top Chef, I went with one of the head judge's restaurants, Riverpark.

Open since 2010, Riverpark is all the way over by the East River, so it's not easy to get to.  I was going to take a crosstown bus, but there weren't any coming, so I took a cab.  Even that was a bit of a hassle, with all the closed streets due to the hospitals and medical centers in the area.  But once I got over there, it was a lovely, tranquil spot.  Probably partly because it's a hassle to get to...

Riverpark is a farm-to-table restaurant and part of the farm is just nearby.  The restaurant is inside a huge glass and chrome building, with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto the river.  The dining space itself is very inviting with a good noise level and interesting flower arrangements and lighting fixtures throughout.  The service is very pleasant and accommodating - I felt taken care of, but not rushed or smothered.  I appreciated that.

For my first course, I got the burrata, a deliciously creamy, soft cheese.  Even though it had a supplemental fee (which I will mention again later), I had to get it.  One, I love burrata.  Two, it was served with mostarda pears, shallots, pistachio, and ginger snap tuile.  I adore mostarda - savory and sweet in one bite is one of my favorite things.  So we had the soft and creamy, and the savory and sweet.  The pistachios were crunchy and salty, and the ginger snap tuile was earthy and rich.  If I thought the shallots were a little too sharp, well, that's on me.  This was an amazing dish and will absolutely make my year-end list of best dishes.  I loved it.  Oh, and I should mention that my housemade iced tea was also yummy, as was the (tiny) piece of foccacia that came with my drink.  The olive oil served with the bread was peppery and wonderful.  So, all in all, a good start.  

For my main course, I got the braised chicken leg, with autumn squash, cranberries, pumpkin seeds, and wheat berries.  This was another delicious dish - the chicken was perfectly cooked and juicy and the skin was nicely seasoned.  The squash was wonderfully prepared and went nicely with the chicken jus/cranberry sauce that covered everything.  It was a rich dish, and a little sweet, and as I was eating I wanted something crunchy and salty.  Not that the dish needed salt, because it was beautifully seasoned throughout, but I just wanted something to break up the lush softness and sweetness.  I now realize that the chef must've forgotten to put the pumpkin seeds on my plate, because I'm sure they were supposed to provide the balance to the dish.  I guess I should've looked at the menu description again as I was eating, but didn't think to.  This quibble doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the dish, I did, it was amazingly delicious, but I think those pumpkin seeds would've completed it and made the experience of eating it even more satisfying.  In my humble, uneducated opinion.  

For dessert, I thought I had seen on the RW website that there would be a pumpkin cake option, which I always enjoy, but that didn't seem to be a choice.  Of course, my love of lemon is such that I would've ordered the meyer lemon mousse regardless of whether or not there was a pumpkin cake option.  I love meyer lemon ANYTHING.  And this was terrific!  It was served with white chocolate clusters, mandarin orange 'caviar', gingersnap crumbs, and praline citrus fluff.  SOOOOOOO good.  Every bite was interesting and different, and each combination was better than the last.  I really loved this dessert and will be thinking about it for a long time.  Ordinarily, I'm not really a fan of white chocolate, but the little chunks of it, mixed with the citrus, was fantastic and unexpected.  Really really yummy.

I enjoyed Riverpark and would love to go back, though maybe not for lunch on a weekday.  It's so cumbersome to get there and back, my lunch hour stretched out maybe a little too much.  But it seems like a gorgeous special occasion place and the bar looked incredible.  I will definitely go back.  And as for that burrata 'supplemental fee'?  They forgot to charge me.  When I looked at my check and saw it missing, I pointed it out to the host and he thanked me for mentioning it, but it wouldn't be necessary to add it.  I hope I didn't get the server into trouble, but I would've felt like a thief if I had left without saying something.  So I left feeling virtuous AND I didn't have to pay the supplement!  Win win, I say!  Oh, RW, I will miss you so.  August is much too far away...