The stomach flu is a bitch. It can turn what is a perfectly pleasant meal into a study in persistent denial and peristalogical (to coin an adjective) gymnastics. Trying to keep the drool from overtaking your incisors, all while faking a grin and gulping down squid is tough. Why ruin everyone’s dinner with your gastrointestinal nightmare? They’re paying good money for their pork shoulder (*gasp*), lamb shank (*urp*) and tripe (*ack*). Despite my ardent attempts to choke down my decent appetizer, my resolve abandoned me on my short rib dinner. The abundant pillowy fat sent my stomach muscles into reverse and almost caused a scene. Normally when eating short ribs I leave scratch marks in the porcelain trying to get every last bite, but on this evening, I just wasn’t feeling it. I don’t know if it was the stress of trying to cover my illness or the surprising lack of quality in the cut of meat, but I’m going to have to chalk this one up (with the exception of the app) as a disappointment. The idea of simple, straightforward American food is a good one, and the space itself is casual and, uh, appetizing, and maybe I hit it on an off night all the way around, but I still feel for that poor cow that had to die in vain. [MF]
156 10th Ave. (at 20th St.)
212/924-4440
cookshopny.com
