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  Occasion: Cuisine: Area: Cost: Rating:
  Night Out Mediterranean Brooklyn Moderate Good

Lately, I’ve been the recipient of a lot of advice. Most of it is unsolicited, and some of it not at all helpful or welcome. The advice comes as a result of the size of my belly. I’ve just started my eighth month of pregnancy, and it is now impossibly clear that I am having a baby, as opposed to months one through five in which it just appeared that I had spent too many hours at the all night biscuit buffet. As a result, I have become victim to everyone’s birth story (these tend to be mostly traumatic), and prenatal recommendations (read: orders).

I’ve been told by complete strangers that I must have a doula (if you don’t you’ll have a terrible experience!), by women on the bus that I should get the epidural as soon as I can, and by a clutch of other random women about the number of days they labored, the amount of blood they lost, how many staples they needed after their emergency C-Sections, and assorted other horror stories about back labor, placenta abruptions, uterine ruptures, and other disasters relating to the births of their beloved babies. It’s quite rare to find anyone who instills confidence or optimism about what lies ahead. To the few who have, I thank you. Everyone just seems to be out to scare me. Even if birth is the worst experience ever, let me live in my blissful ignorance. I’ll find out soon enough. I’m more for the “If I Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy.

But the other night, while having dinner at Vutera in Williamsburg, I got a good story. “Are you with child?” a strikingly beautiful woman with thick dark hair asked me. “Yes, I am. I have two months to go,” I said. “Oh, that’s wonderful,” she replied. “My grandmother had 14 children, and never once went to the hospital,” she told me. “She gave birth to every child in her bed with no problem.” Now that’s the kind of story I like to hear. Fourteen times with no issues! We went on to talk more about her grandmother, her mother (named Rose), and her family in Italy, and I learned that she (Gina) and her brother Carlo were the owners of Vutera, a restaurant located in the subterranean space of Rose Live Music, which underwent a makeover and a chef change in February.

Like the story of Gina’s grandmother and her 14 births without incident, Vutera is immensely comforting. It’s the kind of place that beck ... [more, click below]

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