Gene, Georgetti, and gluttony

None of us set out to eat our weight in cheese, pasta, olives, and an ark’s worth of barnyard animals, but that’s what happens when Sal calls the shots. You don’t need to know who he is, only that he’s fond of Gene and Georgetti’s, loves to order things for others, and was our generous host on Friday evening. Which is how we ended up tasting what seemed like everything on the menu and begging Joe to limit the number of meat dishes he brought us to two. When we ended up with three rather than the five Sal would have wanted us to have we considered it a victory of sorts.

The evening started out with shrimp, assorted antipasto, and italian sausage and peppers. While my darling girlfriend might knife you in a dark alley for some good peel and eat shrimp, I can personally take or leave them. The sausage slices and cheese in the antipasto was my favorite, though the sausage was certainly nothing to sneeze at. Sadly I like peppers better than they like me, so I can’t tell you much about the rainbow of them that accompanied the sausage.

Our biggest victory in the name of moderation – though I may be struck dead for the offense of using that worth in describing anything about the evening – was getting our server to bring us only one pasta dish. Grod bless him, we ended up with the Tortellini with tomato cream sauce, which might be one of the twenty best things I have ever tasted. If I hadn’t known what was coming next I’d have eaten four times what I did.

Our ‘scaled-back’ meat course included the lamb, chicken (alla Joe, unless I miss my guess – we never saw a menu), and the steak. Oh, the steak. The steak! This was a piece of meat prepared into such majesty that if you could successfully describe it to the cow it would butcher itself just to know it would be giving its life for such a cause. The accompanying sauteed spinach, mushrooms, cottage potato slices were all good, thought the potatoes were the clear standout there, being cooked to the perfect consistency for their thickness.

Once that was as consumed as we could manage, Joe continued his trend and brought us more desert than we could handle, though we could hardly insult our benefactor by refusing it entirely, could we? Spumoni is not my favorite ice cream concoction in the world, though the pistachio layer was delicious. The tiramisu, however, was one of the better I have tried, and the flourless chocolate cake? Almost enough to make me wish I’d eaten less tortellini.

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