Last night for dinner: a boss wine, a baby pig, and some patxaran at Txikito.
I love Txikito, but not because of the food. The wine's great, the food is great, the Patxaran is great, but I normally wouldn't feel the need to make the trek from Brooklyn all the way out to the furthest reaches of Chelsea for the place. I love Txikito because it represents a really specific time in my life that going there reminds me of, so I guess I have an emotional bond with the small dark restaurant, the noise, the fancy Jessica lettering and the half glasses of booze. But I'm accepting that there's nothing wrong with a little sentimentality, so I can totally recommend the place without feeling too soft inside.
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