Friday Lark.

Ordinarily I head to Lark on weekends, but today I think I will head down a day early, even though the foie gras protesters have postponed their sign-waving verbal assault until tomorrow. So I sit at the bar and chat with the servers as they stop to mix drinks and pour wine. As always I order a few specials, and sit back to wait for my dinner. There is crispy-skinned fish (fluke, or something), curiously like the black cod some weeks before. Then lamb tongue, served on skewers. (Who doesn't like a little tongue, cracks J., when I tell her I love tongue and always order it when it is available). I finish with mango sorbet layered with slices of blood orange and grapefruit, with little lemongrass-infused marshmallows scattered here and there, and fluffy bits of shaved coconut. It is cool and sweet and just a little tart.