Epiphany, from the Target's notebook.

Early December low rollers, 60th Street. 12/4/2018    

Santa don't bring me any toys,

Just bring my baby and a bottle of joy.

Maybe just a taste for Uncle Roy,

We all know Santa is a good ole boy.

       -Brian Setzer Orchestra, "Hey Santa"

   December had brought the flatties out on the water. November chest-plus conditions had now given way to thigh or less. For those sitting out in the line-up and waiting, even the lightest winds would be brutal. It was raw cold. Wednesday, and it was the day before the Berlin Christmas Parade. The streets were pretty much empty, which is why we were in town the day BEFORE the parade. As I waited for the Watts I had a bit of a yuletide epiphany. What I felt would be a real tribulation for the big Man in Red. I planned on soliciting for Wattman to be punctual at least 50 percent of the time in the upcoming year. I realized this would be somewhat of a miracle performance for Mr. Claus, but tis the season for delusionary petitions to come to fruition. But, once again, I digress. Continuing our Berlin circuit, we were headed into a small Italian restaurant where none of us had previously been. A newbie for the Crew, and that was an achievement considering small town America. Watt insisted it would be a first rate joint. I got to say, I had my doubts. One of three locations on the Shore, DiFebo's was actually larger than it looked with a second floor for parties and a bar that seated twelve along with booths and tables. The place was decked out nicely for the season but not overly done. As we grabbed our spots at the end of the near loaded bar I was initially worried about the level of service we'd be receiving as the barkeep didn't seem too attentive to our arrival or needs. However, as the night wore on his friendliness overshadowed his one speed, and his seasonal courtesy led to all at the bar enjoying his company.  

   With Christmas music spinning in the background, I found my perfect opportunity to order the perfect holiday brew... Stella. Served in it's perfect Stella glass, Wattman went for the local brew served in it's standard shaker glass. Both could have only been more perfect if the glasses would have been iced. This was when our barkeep stepped up his game and talked LWatt into a Pear Martini. This thing was dangerous with a sugar-candied, house vodka-infused pear that must have been 100 proof all by itself. The restaurant featured Italian dishes with a wood fired pizza oven as the dining area's anchor. You can watch it from any seat in the place. The evening's chow started with a trio of Veal Meatballs that were fantastic. Covered in just the perfect amount of sauce, they were garnished with smoked mozzarella and ricotta cheese.

As the Wood Fired Pizza was one of DiFebo's stars, we ordered the Margarita with Basil and Chicken. At first glance the chicken looked overcooked but it had a great flavor that added to an already good pizza. Less pub and more upscale, so there was just one TV over the bar. The crowd dropped off exponentially as the hour passed. Typical for a weeknight anywhere on the Shore, probably more so for Berliners. Before long it was just us, two old timers at the opposite end of the bar. and a couple at one of the tables. It was our queue to head out into the night. Finalized with dessert at Island Creamery. Difebos was a definite epiphany for the Watt in his job of determining our destinations. I am sure it will be on tap for another Crew patrol.

THE RATINGS - 

Veal Meatballs: A-

Wood Fired Margherita Pizza: B+

Beer: C+

Atmosphere: B+

Value: B

Overall Score = 3.10

Always watching...