Fathers and Sons. And only because I first read it as a kid — it was around the house — and I thought it was a young boy’s book. I got nothing out of it but I did read it through, and all I can remember from my second reading of it is someone getting out of a carriage. I don’t think I ever spoke about this to anyone,” and she said “I feel honored. But now, really, Martin, we should find a place to have dinner. I’m very hungry. And I’ll pay for our drinks,” and he said “No, no, that’s mine. I’m also taking care of dinner, wherever we end up eating.” And she said “We’ll see about that.” He went to the men’s room, paid up, helped her on with her coat, and they left. “Any special kind of food you want?” she said outside. “I think we can find something around here to satisfy your dietary restrictions. There’s always this place”—they stopped in front of Moon Palace—“although the food’s a bit of a throwback. Real old-time Chinese-American cuisine.” “I’ll take your word for it,” he said. “And it’s too brightly lit and they have only one table filled at peak dinner hour. Sad to see a restaurant doing so poorly, but not that sad to make me want to eat here.” “Do you like Middle Eastern food?” she said. “Because there’s always Amir’s. No wine or beer, though, and you can’t bring it in. And it’s very small and they’d want you to eat up fast and leave so other customers can sit,” and he said “They’d have plenty of what I can eat. But I can’t have dinner without a glass of wine or beer, can you?” and she said “It’s usually better with a good bottle of red, but sure.” They walked down Broadway on the west side of the street. A couple of places looked okay except their menus outside didn’t have a single nonmeat dish on them but different kinds of omelets. “I’d have one,” he said—“that’d solve our problem. But I’m trying to keep my cholesterol low — my father’s was very high — so I’m avoiding anything with eggs. I’m a real drag, aren’t I?” and she said “Don’t worry; we’ll find something.” “What I should do — seriously — is give up my prohibitions for a night and eat meat for the first time in years, or at least fish,” and she said “No fish restaurants in this neighborhood. Although Tom’s, across the street, always has one fish dish on the menu and a spaghetti in plain tomato sauce, and I think they have beer, but it’s a diner.” “Let’s see what they got,” and they crossed Broadway and looked at the menu on the window. “Maybe for lunch, if you’re in a rush,” he said, “but it doesn’t even look like a good place for coffee. Sort of like the drugstore we went to, but with more things on the menu. No Indian restaurants?” and she said “Not that I’m aware of. There used to be Aki, a Japanese restaurant, on one of the side streets between Amsterdam and Morningside Drive, I think,” and he said “Stop right there. I once ate at it — ate at it several times, the first time when I was in college — but once, a few hours later, this woman and I got violently sick from the food.” “So we’ll skip Aki, if it is still there, and too far a walk anyway. There is a Greek place up the block here — I forget its name, but its popular with Columbia students,” and he said “I’m sorry; I never cared for Greek food,” and she said “Dolmas? Moussaka? Well, not if it’s made with lamb. Unfortunately, this place isn’t that good, so it wasn’t the best suggestion, except that it was nearby. All the other possible restaurants are on the other side of Broadway, unless you want a slice of pizza.” “You’re beginning to think I’m acting peculiar about this,” and she said “I’m not. That was a joke, not a gibe. I knew you wouldn’t want a pizza slice at the pizzeria, and neither would I.” They crossed Broadway and continued downtown. It was getting cold. It