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I can't hear the name
Otto without thinking about the worst mascot in college sports history.
I'm speaking, of course, about the smiling piece of fruit that is
the face of my alma mater's sporting program, Otto the Orange. It's
not that the guy doesn't bring a smile to my face, but how threatening
can your strong safety be when he's repped by a giant citrus with
a painted on grin who likes to point his Mickey Mouse-gloved fingers
a lot, and tuck up into a ball and roll around like the rotund snack
that he is? My preconceived notion aside, this Otto was wholly different--despite
its owner being round and orange himself. Batali is the master of
casual fanciness (and the creepy, corkscrew ponytail). Witness his
other joints around town, like Babbo, Esca and The
Spotted Pig. I had been in this cavernous bar and restaurant many
eons ago as a place called Clementine, but had no recollection of
how vast its space was. The bar up front has a nice, long bar where
patrons can sip trendy beers and a long list of wines, which are Otto's
specialty. They also sell the wine to go, and have wine classes and
tastings and all sorts of grapey fun. Apparently that's what makes
it an enoteca (stupid). I was actually there for a large surprise
party. Showing up early, we hung out at the comfortable bar and enjoyed
watching tourists and families and couples filter in. It was relatively
early, so the place wasn't packed, but there was still a good crowd.
In an organized fashion, they soldiered us back to our long table,
and the food and wine starting flowing. There were meats (some of
which I couldn't quite identify) and cheeses and olives and pizzas
and all sorts of other things I can barely remember through the red
wine and beer haze. Oh, and there was an endless supply of wine. And
then gelato and coffee and some more wine and good fun, and then my
pants burst at he seams, I staggered around in my underpants and fell
headfirst into the urinal and woke up only when the guy who mops up
hit me in the head with his slop bucket. And even then, I was mumbling
for some more of that deeelicious thin crust pizza (yet tasting something
that was akin to a starlight mint doused in chlorine). But for real,
I ended my Otto evening with some sort of fancy coffee in a little
cup, a good buzz and a warm place in my heart for our buddy Mario.
[MF]
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