Halfway through the slightly acidic creaminess of my sorrel bisque, and well into a second bottle of value-priced Pinot Noir with my dining companions, I feel unusually blessed. Seated amidst the colorful hodgepodge of art and antiques that is the Backstreet Wine Salon, all alone on a Thursday night (save for three pals and the restaurant's staff), it's as if someone has given me the secret password to an exclusive private club. And here I am, Lord Lemons,... More >>>