Ford and Food

A Scrubbed Toe in the Race
By MAUREEN DOWD
Published: February 6, 2010

While not one of her more common extended metaphors, sometimes Maureen Dowd gets the munchies. She starts today's nugget with some scene setting.

Between bites of an egg-white garden omelet at a bistro in his Union Square neighborhood, Harold Ford Jr. defended himself on pedicures and flip-flops.

She interviews him and he protests just a little too much that he is just a common Joe despite getting limosened to Morning Joe.

"It’s so unfair how it’s been characterized. I eat at places like the Coffee Shop more than I eat uptown.”

We had stopped in the Coffee Shop before deciding that, despite its greasy-spoon name, it was a hub of hip, too noisy for an interview.

Just to fact check the hipster claim here is the New York Magazine capsule review of the diner doppleganger:

Even though it carries a high risk of poor service and unpleasant encounters with attitudinal (but often pretty) people, The Coffee Shop sometimes seems unavoidable. When it comes to the Union Square area, this loungey pseudo-diner’s varied, inexpensive menu and sidewalk seating make it one of the best casual options in the neighborhood. There’s hardly ever a seat at the bar, which serves up surprisingly good drinks (including milkshakes and mojitos); and there’s usually a wait for a table at peak times, so plan to hang out on the corner of 16th and Union Square for a bit if you go.

Sounds like the kinda place a pretty boy Senatorial aspirant would hang out. As for cheap, perhaps it is by Manhattan standards but the Barbequed Chicken Sandwich with a low fat cilantro lime mayonnaise goes for $10.95.

And while she uses the word 'slick' elsewhere to describe Ford, Maureen comes up with a more culinary comparison.

But he has a buttery way that suits brash New York. He charms everyone, from waiters who drop cutlery to customers who drop into his conversation.

And she finishes with a cryptically ambiguous vignette.

The guy at the next table was staring at Ford’s plate. “The garden omelet,” Ford said, with a grin.

Real men don't eat quiche but aspiring senators that get mani-pedis can definitely scramble some eggs.