Betsy Perry, the Bloomberg “Commissioner for Women’s Issues,” and belle lettrist whose searing prose paints perhaps the most vivid and honest picture of Manhattan on the cusp of the Greatest Depression we’ve seen so far, has a new column on the Huffington Post today: “I don’t know what dinner at Sette Mezzo costs because my friend George obviously gets a bill sent home monthly. I never see cash nor do they take credit cards and mostly they recite the menu fortunately leaving off the price du jour for the turbot and truffles (this isn’t Red Lobster)….My feeling about New York dining is it’s about the buzz and if a restaurant doesn’t have it, I’d rather eat at home watching CNN. One would never know from this restaurant that we’ve fallen on hard times or is it possible they’re eating out of nervousness?” [HuffPo]
