"Q" is for Quaint in Queens

I think we have to hand it to Covitz for this one - "Q" night at Quaint in Queens was quite a lovely surprise, a true pig in the poke. Not that we didn't expect a lot from Phil's quixotic quest (or from Queens) but whenever we leave the island, it's always a little bit of a gamble. Going to and from seems to be as flavorful as the meals themselves.

A core group of Zupperites and two very special guests, Lisa from San Francisco and James from Kenya, met at Grand Central and after a few detour quagmires (the 7 wasn't running) landed in Sunnyside, Queens. Due to the quivering cold and queasy subway feeling, we quickly quaffed down a beer at a nearby pub. After a few quips of us yelling "queers" at each other (clearly only replacing cheers with a zupper version of the word), we headed to Quaint.

It was quite a top quality restaurant, the quintessential little neighborhood spot. The menu had a short list of seasonal items (no quail) and the group took advantage of all the options. Several enjoyed the seared salmon over a bed of garbanzo beans and braised fennel, someone ordered the pan fried catfish with wild rice and toasted pecans (one of the true highlights, it was like each grain of rice was freshly picked and marinated, not goopy or mushy at all). Even the chicken breast served with a thick brick of gratin potatoes quenched a couple hungry bellies. There was an all-you-can-eat mussels and fries deal for $18 but to quote a questioning zupperite, "Having a finite amount of mussels is a good idea. I'm not sure I trust people who can eat unlimited amounts of bivalve mollusks."

On our way home, we experienced something you don't see everyday in Manhattan: a small Asian woman with a quadraphonic megaphone making the subway announcements. A real, live human being uttering those quizzical and incomprehensible announcements that typically blare overhead from some invisible speaker. It was so jarring, it prompted someone to impulsively query "oh my God, you are real!?!" We even got her to announce Happy Birthday to Mike, making him feel like the quasi-queen of the night. But even though she was standing right next to us, the only thing we were able to quantify was "Hmmmpp... Btooreerkkk, fivmelele, aexcxxxcitte!!" Close enough.

We ended the night in quality fashion - by playing Buck Hunter at the querimonious Subway Bar. Definitely not your quotidian bar night - the bar itself is a hodgepodge of B&T, quiddley old drunks, and some young hipsters nestled in the rotting red leather booths. The boys flexed their quads and competitively fought to be the quincurion with the highest Buck Hunter score (except Phil, who's points grand total was a quiet 12. Don Quixote, he is not.)

Without quibble, Q night was all about good 'ol fun (no quaaludes or anything). Two thumbs up for Quaint and big Qudos [sic] to Phil for organizing.