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But my neck was intact when I squeezed into a comfortable banquette in a quiet corner. A very quiet corner, which was lucky, because my dining companion was so filled with interesting gossip that she couldn't finish her jade-green cream of asparagus soup or her salad. Fortunately, my fork and spoon were handy, and the salad and soup were delicious. And because I didn't have to open my mouth to talk, I could leisurely and luxuriously savor every bite of the wonderful Plaza III meatloaf (a dish not offered on the dinner menu), which came sided with real mashed potatoes (with lumps, even) smothered in brown gravy.
The meatloaf and potatoes were comfort foods, of course, but there's something warm and reassuring about the whole place. Perhaps because this restaurant has changed so little over the years, other patrons also find comfort in the familiar look of the place, the consistency of the menu and the quality of the service. Like any historical treasure, Plaza III is waiting to be discovered by a new generation of diners.
