Tapeo 29

Tapeo 29
29 Clinton St.
212-979-0002

I first met Michelle in my second month of college during the ultimate guilty pleasure of sorority rush. My sister, Lauren, basically projectile vomited when I told her I wanted to pledge, but I didn't let her incessant ridicule sway me. Kappa Kappa Gamma, I'm so happy that I am a!

It might appear inane to a skeptical outsider, but sorority rush has the perfect recipe for my kind of delight: take one tablespoon of high drama, a dash of comedy, one cup of chaos, a teaspoon of black pants, and a hint of female bonding. Mix together, and Voila!

So there I was, one tiny, shell-shocked Floridian, wondering how my unpolished self would fit in amongst my predominantly New York-bred sorority sisters. That's when Michelle took me in. I now realize she finished the job my mother had tried to do for years. She went to the gym; I followed. She put products in her hair; I bought a straightener. She took classes seriously; I got my first "C"-less report card in 13 years. But perhaps the most extraordinary gift Michele gave me was the size of a book, filled with funny little pages that had all kinds of numbers and dates. "It's called a planner, " Michelle said. "Now you can write down your appointments, so you won't be so confused all the time."

"People do that?" I asked skeptically.

"You bet! Give it a shot!"

"Umm. Okay."

So when Michelle gives me advice, I tend to listen. And Michelle thinks it's high time I write a bad review. Because the truth is, not EVERYTHING I eat sends me into states of cosmic euphoria.

It's hard for me to even write a whole lot about the food at Tapeo 29. It was THAT forgettable. I went with Cornelia and Sarah, my favorite blonde and red-headed counterparts. The three of us are pretty easy to please. Cornelia and Sarah are perhaps the world's most patient people. Sarah demonstrated this by basically being my high school french teacher (I couldn't help it; I didn't want to learn to conjugate verbs, I just wanted to eat crepes!) And Cornelia didn't even laugh when, during high school, I sheepishly admitted to her that I didn't know how to work my oven.

Despite our consistently sunny and patient demeanors, we all mutually agreed to avoid Tapeo 29 for good. I asked for egg whites in my omelette (hey, if I was piggy all the time, I would actually turn into Mario Batali), and was given an exasperated "yes" by the server. I mean, that's a pretty standard brunch request, right? She made it sound like I was pulling a Meg Ryan from "When Harry Met Sally."

Cornelia and I ordered the Tapeo 29 omelette, served with eggs, lox, scallions, goat cheese, and a side of the potatoes. The home fries were not at all crispy, and the omelette was bland and watery. Sarah ordered the Flamenco eggs, served with a piquant tomato sauce and chorizo. That seemed to be the most successful dish, although nobody's tails were really wagging.

The place claims to be all you can drink, but was so understaffed that day, we basically had to hunt our server down, get down on hands and knees, and beg for our drinks (it was a Bloody Mary! It's worth it!). So if you are in that part of town, take my advice and stick with the Lower East Side standbys like Essex or Schiller's. Order your egg whites with your head held high!