When Friends Intervene

Yesterday, my friend Jeff and I spent a rainy Saturday afternoon playing foosball at Apartment 138 in Boerum Hill. Though it was the first time we had hung out in their game room, it is a restaurant that we used to frequent before this project started, mostly for their cheap sliders and jalapeno margaritas. I guess some of my friends still go without me (and I have attended a big dinner there while sneaking in my own vegetable turnover from Body & Soul) but I guess they miss it and have become fed up with my limited dining options. Jeff had been introduced to the chef before when he had been toying with the idea of picking up some waitstaff shifts, but yesterday he went to the bar without me and, apparently, asked to see the chef.

His bold move went over well, and within twenty minutes a skinny young guy in his thirties with longish hair and a goatee came over to check in on our game. I looked at Jeff, understood immediately, and introduced myself. Simon is the head chef of Apartment 138, and joined as partner a little after the restaurant opened 4 years ago. Originally from Key West, he worked his way up from dish washer to sous chef before deciding to brave a move to New York, figuring having both Key West and New York on his resume would get him a job just about anywhere else he wanted. Little did he know how well, and how quickly, it would work out. And now that he's head chef, building the menu for 138 and now for their sister bar in Williamsburg, he's stuck for a while. Things could be worse, I think.

Simon was incredibly welcoming and forthcoming with stories about his small kitchen, and I think plenty happy to have a new (returning) customer. Jeff and I celebrated with a slider.