Best Caipirinhas of Mi Vida at Avenida in Greenwich

Stamford, I cheated on you with Greenwich Avenue tonight, and it was fantastic!

I’ve been craving a good margarita, and gosh knows there’s no place for that in Stamford. The husband rejected my Boxcar Cantina suggestion but agreed to go to Avenida, a place on the Avenue I've not yet been to. Not only were the margararitas good,-- “No flavors,” they informed me-- we ran into old, fabulous, riotous friends, who, turns out, were ordering caipirinhas even better than the ones I had in Brazil. Oh- and there was insanely good live music starting at 930.

Yeah. Stamford, I adore you, but where are your Latin restos? Oh? They’re in Port Chester? Well, can you bring them to Stamford?

OK I am seriously off to bed because I have again been told I’m very unpleasant when I don’t get enough sleep.

Oh. BTW. Avenida is where trendy Bleu (that's "Bluh" to you non-French speakers) used to be, and they still have those freaky see-through bathrooms that go opaque when you close the door. Live on the edge! I did, and no one appeared to have seen me doing my business.

Now, Greenwich, I love you, but I have to say, sometimes you are so Greenwich! For God's sake. Tonight I was sitting near a woman in white jeans, a royal blue tie-around tank, patent leather royal blue stilettos, and a matching royal blue patent leather purse! And huge Chanel sunglasses! There were so many blonds with blue eyes in Tori Burch flats and tunics with brown roots showing... more than usual. More than usual, Avenida. I've worked in Greenwich for ten years, and even this was overwhelming to me. And the men. Y'all are just gorgeous, but you're so Greenwich. It's stunning. It's astonishing. It's out of this world.

Sometimes you're too much, Greenwich, but you've got good margaritas.

Good night. Buenas noches. Buena sera. A domani. Hasta manana.

Here's the NYTimes review of Avenida.