Last Tuesday, happy as always that we had somehow managed to put yet another fine edition out on the street, the Redhead, Bruce, the lovely Ann Marie and I headed down to Lewiston's Clarkson House to celebrate.
A lunch date had been canceled, I hadn't eaten all day and was looking forward to tucking into one of the sumptuous steaks for which Frank and Geri Amendola's bistro is rightly famous. Anything you want, from Japanese Kobe to Black Angus culled from the great prairie states in all the usual cuts and grilled over mesquite, the steaks at the Clarkson House would have the proprietors of Gallagher's and other famous Manhattan eateries looking down at their shoes in shame.
So I was prepared for a good meal. I wasn't exactly prepared for all the sideways pleasures the evening was about to offer.
We arrived early, hoping to enjoy a cocktail at the bar before taking our table. Already, the parking lot was nearly full, and when we walked into the historic and low-ceilinged establishment, the bar was completely full. So we took our table, and ordered up a round of drinks.
There's something about scotch and steak that go together, so I forsook my usual vodka tonic and had a large J and B on the rocks to go along with the filet mignon I planned on ordering. Nick the bartender didn't disappoint.
The atmosphere was festive, and Frank and Geri went from table to table greeting their guests before sitting down themselves with Savino and Virginia Nanula, Bob and Geraldine Sdao, and Bill and Shelly Bevaqua. Talk about a power table.
Uber accountant Vince DiMarco and his lovely wife, Debbie, were having dinner with the ubiquitous John Gross and Judy Conde, and Marge Rotella, Marguerite Nicoletti, Nancy Plumeri and Joanie D'Grillo were having a girl's night out.
The blind saloon singer, Jack Civiletto, kept the crowd entertained with his seemingly unlimited repertoire of standards made famous by Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Dean Martin, Jerry Vale and many more, and cracked people up with jokes he alone could tell.
"People ask me, is the worst thing about being blind that you can't look into your grandchildren's faces?" he said. "I tell them no, it's when I can't find my drink."
The way he navigated the crowded room, dancing with ladies and shaking hands as he sang, you wouldn't have known he was blind unless, well, you knew he was blind. He's a tremendous entertainer and, if you get a chance to catch his act, you won't be disappointed.
Our waitress, Charmaine, was motherly and helpful. When the Redhead asked how come there were crab cakes on top of her spinach salad, Charmaine gently explained that they were actually rounds of deep-fried goat cheese.
First and foremost, the Clarkson House is a steak house in the old tradition. Bruce had a rib eye, Ann Marie a New York strip and I got the filet. Chef John French knows his way around a cut of meat, and all were seared to perfection. Ever the contrarian, the Redhead opted for shrimp scampi with linguine, explaining that she'd had steak the night before. The portion was gargantuan, and what she couldn't finish she had for lunch the next day.
The roaring fireplace and candle-lit table added to the warm and cozy atmosphere and, after devouring dinner, we lingered. It was freezing out. Our friend Carl Pasquantino showed up, and it wasn't long before people were asking him to sing a number.
I suggested "I'll Be Home for Christmas," as Carl was recently granted an extension before beginning his federal sentence for one of the most ridiculous "crimes" I've ever heard of, but he opted instead for "My Way," backed by Civiletto and a chorus of most of the women in the room.
Carl doesn't have Civiletto's voice, but the poignancy of the lyrics in light of his situation made the performance spellbinding. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. It was the high point of a wonderful evening.
A lot of other Lewiston restaurants are closed on Tuesday, and you'd do well to make a reservation if you plan on going to the Clarkson House. A Center Street landmark since 1818, it's become quite a lively scene, and the food is some of the best you'll find anywhere.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | Dec. 13 2005 |