Back in 2002, a friend treated me to a birthday dinner without telling me where we were going. Surprise, it was Mario Batali’s BABBO in the West Village. When we walked in, the bored hostess was about to seat us when I said, “Do you know who I am?” (in my best Moe Green voice) and I pulled out my license to show her my name – James BABBO. She jumped to attention as if I threw a glass of cold water in her face and said, “Oh my god, I had no idea! Where would you like to sit?”
I had mercy on her and replied, “I’m just messing with you.” But it shows she had no idea that the restaurant’s name was an Italian word that meant “father.”
The food was really good and mucho mas expensive. What did I care. I wasn’t paying.
Shared By: James Babbo, Long Island, NY