“I am going to review Quarter restaurant tonight. Want to join Alvin and me?” asked WestView’s food writer, David Porat. Facing, once again, frozen Trader Joe, I said, “Yes.”
The two very nice Turkish owners Hakan Aktas and Tuncay Gulmez (TJ) had smilingly agreed to a WestView ad (I love them) and this was to be my second meal; the first, salmon seared butter crisp but left the sea flavor moist, was just perfect. Hakan, who conceived the effort, has made it a neighborhood hangout with moderate prices and consistently well prepared food by third owner chef, Jason Avery (my only complaint – no Turkish dishes).
In the April WestView ad, very handsome Hakan wanted to signal the opening of their extensive outdoor seating but this was yet another cold April night so it was inside.
Six months ago, Quarter expanded, (a rare phenomenon these days of the new lease guillotine) and took over the corner store on West 10th and Hudson Streets, so when you enter, you have a room which is mostly bar with very few tables. Hence, it is relatively quiet. However, if you step into the big original section which opened a year and half ago – bang – a wall of wine-fueled chatter hits you so loud, I had to shout at the hostess to ask if we could find a table in the quiet room – “Sure, I will give you the back table for eight!” Great!
I boasted at the acquisition of the quiet table to David when he arrived and the meal began with fresh oysters and fried calamari. However, I became aware of the loudest female voice I had ever heard in my life (it was a phenomenon). The sound banged out of her mouth and ricocheted off the walls like steel ball bearings. It was relentless and cruel – clack, clack, clack…
The pains and complaints of age erodes the thinning layer of tolerance. I just could not take it. I just could not take it…
As I brought the nail scraping voice to the attention of my dinner companions and announced that I was going to ask her to be quiet, their looks painfully anticipating the “scene” made me hesitate, but at last I could take it no longer. It was she or I and so I rose from my seat, composing my speech as I walked 10 steps to the bar where she and her date were seated.
“Excuse me, but would it be possible for you to talk a little less loud?” I began. She quickly responded, “Oh, was I loud? I’ve been told I have a loud voice.” I quickly followed with, “If you could change seat with your date it would help.” This prompted the “date” who was dressed in his “first date best” say, “Yeah, that’s a good idea. We could change seats.” I left with “Thank you, you do have a loud voice but you are very beautiful.” She glowed and said, “Thank you,” and changed seats. The noise level dropped to acceptable while I savored and considered my astonishing success; it tasted as good as the meal.
