As you know, we were having a little trouble cataloguing velvet suits. But tonight we decided that if we limit ourselves to velvet jackets, everything will be fine. We went to a birthday party for renowned food writer (and so much more) John T. Edge at the City Grocery Bar tonight ... and what should John T. be wearing but a velvet smoking jacket? (To be fair, he made it clear that he does not smoke, and prefers to think of it as a "velvet drinking jacket.") Now we should say a few words about the City Grocery Bar, owned by Mr. John Currence. The bar has been referred to a few times on the "blog," though never by name. It is the place where I heard about the guy who coached a girl's basketball team who once faced off against the daughter of Sammy Davis, Jr. It is the bar where Tom Franklin told me how to get rid of wasps. Tonight at the City Grocery Bar, in honor of John T.'s birthday, Mr. Currence had imported hot dogs from Lobel's, a famous butcher in NYC, who, as John T. put it, "made hot dogs for Jackie O." Mr. Currence also provided homemade mustard (two varieties) and home-pickled onions, just to name two of the bevy of condiments. What else can I say but that the subject of Jerry Lewis came up. John T. told me about an older cousin of his, of whom he had been very fond as a young boy. This cousin's betrothed - a college man - had asked twelve-year-old John T. to name his favorite comedian. "Jerry Lewis," said young John T. "No, no, no," said the college man, gravely hurting the young boy's feelings. Tonight, on his birthday, I had the privilege of telling John T., "You were right and the college boy was wrong!"
