LAKE GEORGE "BLU" (2)

We elevator down to the new restaurant at the bottom of my building.

The restaurant is called "Blu",  that's blue without an "e".
"Blu" is the fourth go for a restaurant in this particular space. But Blu is more upscale than the others. You can tell it's classy because The "B" in Blu (on the sign and menus and matches) is artistic and inky and blotty. It's terrifically artisian and spontaneous. And the waiters at "Blu" have accents and toady about like the place is venerated.

Blu is mostly empty because it's really at the end of nowhere. The whole block at the end of west 42nd Street has been reinvented - with glittering highrises and fancy parks. But the area doesn't lure the kind of New Yorker who want to blow big money on fancy Steak and Formaggio e frutta . People around here are looking for burgers and fries before they ride the Circle Line or tour the Intrepid.

But the owners of "Blu" were smart to put tables outside. I pass these tables every day (in my wheelchair) and I often feel I should divert my path away from the one or two outside diners so that they won't have to take in the sick and disabled as I wheel by).

Tonight, the outside tables are tempting and I suggest them to Car but we forgo them (too noisy and windy) - "the light's no good," and pick a table inside.