Wednesday was my birthday. Yup, added another candle to my cake. Pretty soon, there will be more candles than frosting. It’s a weird sensation to reflect on having more years of living behind you than statistically you do in front of you. We all secretly harbor a belief in our deepest moments I think, we alone are invincible and will somehow unravel the secret to eluding the grim reaper before our name comes up on the list. Truth is, no one, no matter how powerful, how wealthy, how strong in spirit or body, has thus far (at least to my knowledge) been able to avoid the inevitable. To my mind, that being the situation, it is up to us to enjoy every moment and concentrate on living fully, because that is all we’ve got that is certain in this wonderful, and most mystical world.
But, enough birthday reflections, it was a fabulous birthday filled with love and family and friends. Can’t ask for more than that. In spite of the fact I had whispered in Boo’s ear, I wouldn’t turn down breakfast in bed, Boo, the Queen of Cats, didn’t even make me a card. This, after all the treats and extra care I have extended in her direction for the past nearly twenty years. Cats can be an ungrateful lot, go figure.
Richard took me out to a restaurant I’ve been dying to try for a long time as a birthday surprise. As I’d hoped, it did not disappoint. Located in the Old Town Sacramento area, it is called the Fire House. The name, because originally that was what the lovely old building was used for. Without disclosing where we were going, I was instructed to clean myself up appropriately and be ready to roll at 5:00. “Aye, aye Cap’n.” I was most excited when I realized where we were headed once we drove into the parking structure next door to the restaurant. The restaurant has an excellent reputation in this area for providing its customers with a fine dining experience as well as great food. Richard picked it, aside from the fact I had expressed a desire to go there, because it, a) had lamb (yum yum) and, b) if you ordered it ahead of time, you could end your meal with a Grand Marnier souffle. Oh boy. My taste buds were literally doing a tap dance in my mouth as I anticipated what yummy delciousness that lay before me.
Richard had told me there was dress code, so it was a sport coat and tie for him. I like to get a little dressed up now and again, and it was a special occasion, so would probably have gone the extra mile even if there hadn’t been one in place. Walking inside the door, the first thing that struck me were the beautiful vintage chandeliers suspended from the ceiling providing light to the two rooms ahead of us. The first room held a good sized bar with a fair amount of bar seating, and the second, housed the main dining room. Checking in with the maitre’d, we were told it would be about a half an hour before our table would be ready. The bar it was then. Telling the bartender it was my big day, he put extra olives in my drink and as he placed it on the cocktail napkin in front of me, he said he bet I was excited now that I was old enough to vote. Yes, yes, you will get a nice tip anyhow, flattery or no flattery.
Gathered from our bar stools when our table was ready, we were seated at a lovely half round booth that faced out into the dining area. Our reservations were fairly early, so many tables were still unoccupied, leaving us with nearly the room to ourselves. First, a waiter brought us an amuse-bouche. Amuse-bouche translates literally from French to mean “mouth amuser”. It’s simply a little spoonful of something something to whet your appetite. In this case, the little something was a small round of crisp cucumber, topped with goat cheese, a curl of red onion and sprinkled with something incredibly yummy. Richard, luckily for me, can’t abide cucumber, so my mouth got to be amused twice, rather than just the one time. Yay for my team.
Next on the agenda, came a basket of assorted breads, followed by our first course which was orange braised beets resting on baby arugula, topped with a goat cheese mousse, a sprinkling of hazelnuts, and finished off with an orange-white balsamic vinaigrette that was plainly and simply out of this world. My taste buds were now doing the macarena in anticipation of the rack of lamb that was coming out once this course had been completed.
While waiting for our entrees, the room had filled up nicely. If there had been a dress code in place, either nobody bothered to adhere to it, or it had been abandoned for the sake of entertaining paying customers. The three men seated across from us were dressed for a round of golf. One guy was in orange plaid pants that would have served him well as a crossing guard, and the other two wore shorts and Polo shirts. All three were wearing ball caps, which remained in place throughout their entire meal. My grandmother would have rolled over in her grave at that one. In her house, you removed your hat at the doorway. Certainly, you didn’t have it on your head while dinner was being served, or you would have been politely handed it and shown your way back out the way you came in before you got to insert a bite in your mouth.
I’m a bit of a people watcher, as you may have picked up if you’ve read my previous blogs. While observing the goings on around me, I found a family interesting that came in around 7:00. There were five in the party, consisting of what I assumed to be mom, dad, plus three little ones, the youngest most likely around a year and change. I found myself thinking it an odd choice of eateries for ankle biters. My guess was there wasn’t anything vaguely resembling a kid’s menu lurking at the front desk. It wasn’t the sort of place like Chucky Cheese, for example, with games and characters popping out of the walls, or other kid friendly restaurants where they have a basket of toys or crayons to entertain little ones. Also, with the prices they were asking, I got to thinking it would be an expensive meal. The food really wasn’t geared toward children’s palletes either. Not too many children would be delighted to find foie gras placed before them (I wouldn’t either to be honest), nor have any interest in cioppino. I didn’t notice a grilled cheese or a PB&J under the entree selections. I actually thought the parents very brave. My kids went to fast food joints, coffee shops, perhaps even a dinner house or two in their formative years, but nothing on this level. As long as we were there, I have to say, other than a couple of bursts of rather adorable giggling squelched quickly by their parents, they weren’t disruptive in any way whatsoever.
There were two other couples who also dressed up, so we weren’t standing on the edge of the plank by ourselves. Personally, it doesn’t matter to me what anyone wears or what anyone thinks about what I wear, these are just observations. I got to wondering if anyone got dressed up at all anymore. I suppose in Hollywood, or possibly New York or Washington D.C., there were still very dressy occasions where cocktail dresses were still expected, but I sure don’t see them anywhere up here anymore. Casual is the rule of the day, and super casual in some places. I know it has become commonplace to see people grocery shopping in their PJ’s and fuzzy slippers in my neighborhood. Nothing much actually surprises me anymore.
The lamb was simply mouth watering, sweet and tender, cooked to a perfect pink in the middle. They served it on a bed of excellently prepared garlic mashed potatoes with a swirl of mint sauce I could happily have bathed in. All in all, as touted, a fine dining experience.
Just when I was starting to feel larger pants were in my future, the waiter arrived with the Grand Marnier souffle. Puffy and light, it sat before us like a poufy chef’s cap in it’s ramekin. Custard was then poured in the center, followed by raspberry sauce. Man oh man, I’m not a sweet eater but that, even for old non-sweet me, was too much to resist.
Most of us in the 99% bracket can’t afford to indulge in such a meal very often, I know we can’t. Truth be known, if you ate like that every day, most likely it would become routine and you’d find yourself standing at a take-out window at a greasy spoon somewhere ordering a burger and fries for a change of pace. All things, as they say, in moderation.
As we walked back to the car down the nearly deserted streets of Old Town, there were a lot of homeless people lingering in the shadows. I was struck by an overwhelming feeling of sadness for these lost souls mixed in liberally with a huge sense of gratefulness. With all the turmoil in the world these days, it is sometimes hard to break out the joy and find a smile firmly set in place. There are a lot of people struggling to survive, and here I was overly full from a decadent meal. In that situation, all you can do is be sure to be thankful for all you have and hope and pray, if that is your practice, that people going through stressful times right now will find lighter days waiting for them not too far down the road. I vowed to myself I will look for a way to help contribute to the solution, but for now hold the hope the world will mend it wounds and find it’s footing once again.
So, sitting here looking out my window at the beautiful colors of fall, I am full of grateful joy I am here again today to enjoy the world around me.
Happy Saturday!!