Saying Goodbye to a Favorite Restaurant: A Last Supper Story
Three weeks ago, on a trip to my hometown in Upstate New York, I ate my very last meal at my very favorite restaurant in the world -- Antonina's.
Photos by Christina Uticone My dad, eating his last supper at Antonina's on January 31. I cried just uploading this.
Antonina's was my family's go-to restaurant for "no one feels like cooking" night. When it was my turn to choose a special dinner for a birthday or graduation, I chose Antonina's. I've auditioned every boyfriend I've ever had there, including my husband. I once figured out, over a plate of Antonina's pasta, that the boyfriend sitting across from me was cheating on me; years later, during another heartbreak, the only thing that could get me off my parents' couch was the promise of Aglio et Olio with mushrooms, and a basket full of thinly sliced Italian white bread.
Knowing that the restaurant was closing, I had several weeks to think about this meal, which I came to refer to -- mostly jokingly -- as my Last Supper. I thought about a lot of things, from whom I would see to what I would order, but I didn't even think about bringing tissues. Now that was a mistake.
Dinner for 12, including drinks and tip, about $250. End of an era indeed.
This story continues on the next page.