Comfort Ye, My People

Oh, nice.

So as recompense for boots and dog care, I owed cubby dinner. My thought was my fav vietnamese restaurant on Newark. When I got in, I had to blog, check email, respond to email from basanos, and then got obsessive about searching the web for welding programs here in North Jersey. Where does time go? I don't know. But all of a sudden, it was 10 pm. We headed out to vietnamese restaurant on the off chance, and alas, it was closed. So we hung a right onto Grove Street. (According to UnFortunate, all of his Jersey City-born mothers instructions to get anywhere begin, "You go out Grove Street...") Hard Grove Cafe was closed. We headed further down, and came upon a new place called Comfort Bistro.

Oh yeah. Comfort Bistro was open. After a fashion. The proprietor was an African-American woman named Tiffany. She did all the cooking, while we watched. cubby described it as, "Hey! Let's put on a restaurant!" Not far off the mark. It was sort of like being invited to dinner at the home of a Black family, where there's a really, really good cook in charge.

I had fried chicken, mac'n'cheese, and peas and ride; cubby had meatloaf, cabbage, and potato salad. The portions were immense. We had sweet tea to drink, and finished up by splitting the best bread pudding I've ever had.

I mean, it was amazing. So good. So good for you. And it's the perfect distance away. I enjoyed a leisurely cigar on the walk back. The total tab for dinner came to $27. Well within my budget.

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