BLT Steak

As I told you all in my last post, my husband is great at the "romantic surprise." A friend recently said that L "sets the bar" for husbands everywhere. Well, it's true, but let's keep that our little secret. We don't want it to go to his head.

I was cursed with being born on New Year's Eve. As a child, my birthday was never celebrated on the actual date. My parents wanted to go out that night. As an adult, it masquerades as a fun birthday, what with the whole world celebrating and all, but truthfully it's always a letdown. For everyone else, you screw up New Year's Eve, and you still have your birthday to redeem yourself and salvage your year. Not for me. It's all or nothing on that one day. And then I made the mistake of marrying someone who works in the restaurant business. Now for the rest of my life, every year on my birthday, my husband will have to work.

But L manages to make it special nonetheless. For example, this year. First, he totally faked me out by telling me for weeks in advance that our plans were to celebrate on Saturday January 2; and then at 5:30 pm on Friday January 1, he announced, that I better get dressed and "pack a bag!"

The surprise was cool. But what was in store was even cooler. He took me to BLT Steak, a New York transplant located in the ultra-swank W downtown. I had heard it was good, but it really exceeded my expectations. Certainly, this was partly due to the company. Our closest friends (the always entertaining Brad and the incomparable Arthur & Zhenya) joined us and we had a blast.

The room was beautiful, the service: excellent, and the food was amazing. Before we ordered anything, they brought us pate which was velvet-y deliciousness smeared on bread, pickled vegetables and charcuterie. And we hadn't even ordered anything. It was all amazing. Then we ordered appetizers, including roasted beets, a new favorite of mine, and snow crab. We were all panting for more. The server advised us to "save room for the bread." And I thought "I'm not going to eat the bread!" But then they brought it out. A giant platter of just-out-of-the-oven popovers. I couldn't resist. And I'm glad I didn't. These were truly amazing. Delicious, light, airy, warm, with melted cheese on top and melting butter inside. If the meal had ended there, I still would have given it 5 stars. The bread was awesome.

For the sake of all of our waistlines, it probably should have ended there. But alas, still up: our entrees. We ordered more food than we could possibly eat. I had Dover Sole, which was exquisite. There were lamb chops, filet mignon, Alaskan cod, creamed spinach, tomatoes provencal, broccolini. It was an orgy of food, accompanied by champagne (Billicart-Salmon Rose) and red wine. Finally, there was dessert. It was a marathon of eating, drinking, laughing, and celebrating.

We ended the night in a corner suite on the 11th floor overlooking downtown Atlanta. Floor to ceiling windows surrounded us. It was a spectacular night. Thank you, L. All my love.

The Eiffel Tower

In February 2005, before L & I were married, we took a weekend trip to Las Vegas. I have to admit, I'm not a huge Vegas fan. I don't particularly care for gambling (and I suck at it!) But we had never been to Vegas together and we thought it would be fun. Well, it was more than fun. It was one of the most memorable trips of our lives.

We stayed at the Paris Hotel, which, if you're not familiar with it, has a giant replica of the Eiffel Tower as its calling card on the famous Strip. The hotel is charming, with various homage to the true City of Lights. Amidst the casino, there was a little creperie serving crepes with nutella, and several French-themed restaurants including Mon Ami Gabi, a most excellent and authentic French bistro. But the best restaurant in the place was The Eiffel Tower restaurant. It was located in the middle of the faux Eiffel Tower, above the riff raff in the casino. We decided to have dinner there on Saturday night.

I remember that whole day, L was acting, well, busy. I took a long nap while he went to the gym. When I woke up, no L. He came back an hour after I woke from my 2 hour nap. I asked him where the hell he went and he made some vague excuse about working out "really hard" and then getting a steam. Then we got a strange phone call and he told me it was his boss who wanted to tell him to enjoy his weekend off. That really seemed strange. Why the hell would his (now ex) boss call and say that? Something seemed amiss, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

As we were getting ready to go out to dinner, I called an old friend from college, who lived in Vegas, and invited her to meet us for a drink at the bar at the restaurant. L nervously asked if she was going to join us for dinner. I told him I had not invited her to do so, but we should play it by ear. Somehow that made L seem agitated. The dilemma was resolved when she told me she couldn't make it. Still, it was unlike L to not to be social.

We arrived at the restaurnnt. The maitre'd knew my name and told us our table wasn't quite ready. "How did he know my name?" I wondered. Just a couple minutes later, the same man returned to tell us that our table was ready and to follow him. So we did.

He led us to the best, the very best, table in the restaurant. I mean, this table was one of the best tables I've ever sat at in my life (and so remains to this day.) Let me explain, the restaurant which was several, no many, stories in the air, has floor to ceiling windows that overlook the Vegas Strip. The Paris is across the street from the Bellagio, so the focal point of the panoramic view is the Bellagio fountain. We were seated in the corner so we had an 180 degree view and were directly facing the Bellagio fountain. It was magnificient. I said to L "how did we get this table??" He was equally impressed, but not responsive.

Soon the waiter brought our menus. I picked mine up, glanced at it, perused it, but continued yapping away about nothing and sipping my cocktail. L said "what are you going to have?" I told him I really didn't know yet. He urged me to look at the menu. I didn't know why he was rushing me to make a decision. I wanted to enjoy the scenery and take my time. But I began to read the menu.

It all looked fabulous. Hmmm, what should I get. Wait...what was that? Did I see the words "diamonds and sapphires" used to describe one of the entrees? That's weird. Let me read that again. What is a "Princess Special?" What kind of meat is that? What kind of cut of meat is an "emerald cut diamond?" And it's got 2 sapphires..is that a side I've never heard of? I'll have to ask L...but wait..what does that say on the next line say..."will you marry me, D?" WAIT.....THAT'S ME!!!!

I looked up from my menu, in complete shock. L saw the shock on my face, knew I had (finally!) seen the proposal and jumped down on one knee with a diamond and sapphire engagement ring in his hand. I said yes. The servers applauded.

I think that was the most romantic moment of my life. (The food was good, too!)

There's No Place Like Ecco

Recently, on a local radio show, Ian Sommerholder (formerly of Lost, now Vampire Diaries and an new Atlanta resident), told the morning DJs that Ecco was his favorite spot in Atlanta. Gee, Ian, tell me something I don't already know.

Ecco opened in midtown in 2006. Even tho the building that now houses Ecco was a crack den until a few weeks before Ecco opened, the place has been an instant classic since the day it opened. It's a beautiful restaurant. You know how some restaurants you go to look so ultra-modern and ultra-hip that you know in two years time, they will look completely dated? Not Ecco. Ecco is timeless. I've previously mentioned my love for French bistros. Well, Ecco is the french bistro's Italian cousin. And it's a restaurant that improves with time. Everything on the menu is good, but if you can only order one thing, get a charcuterie plate(and if they have the house-made Meyer lemon ricotta cheese, pick that for one of the cheeses!)

Needless to say, L and I love Ecco. And when we're there, we're treated like family. That's what makes Ecco so special to us. It's just like home. We've been taking A there since he was in still in a baby carrier. In fact, Ecco was the first restaurant we took A out to dinner. We sat the car seat on the bar and had a lovely dinner at the bar. A slept through most of it, when he wasn't smiling at all the staff. It helps, too, that our old friend Brent now works at Ecco and whenever we come in, Brent is there to take care of us.

So now they know us. And they've watched A grow. They seem genuinely delighted when we come with A. Once they even sat is in the very center of the restaurant. Had the highchair waiting for us when we arrived.

At our most recent visit, we violated my "no dining with child later than 6:00 pm" rule and showed up after 7:00. I felt bad. There were adult diners there. People who really didn't deserve to be subjected to my 2 year old. Thank God for Brent. He tirelessly entertained A while his parents were too tired or too distracted to do so. (We just wanted to enjoy an awesome dinner at Ecco without too much interference from A.) Brent was my hero that night. He not only kept my child entertained; he made sure our food and drinks arrived promptly AND he waited on several other tables at the same time!

Recently, I saw that Ecco added skate wing to the menu. Mmmmm. That and the fact that Ian Sommerholder apparently hangs out there has got me itching to go back. (Oh, and I miss Brent, too!)

Key West

Before my recent trip to Key West, I asked a friend, who had been there, his impressions. My friend, who grew up in New Orleans, replied "It's a low rent Bourbon Street." I certainly get the comparison. But you can't discount all the party spots in American simply because they are not New Orleans. Certainly, it's true that other spots pale in comparison to the Cajun Queen, but they have their own merit nonetheless.

Such is the case with Key West. L, our son A and I just returned from 5 days in Key West. I have to say, the food was a bit of a disappointment. Mostly beach food, nothing truly outstanding. The best dinner we had was at Maison de Pepe, a fun, touristy cuban joint located right in the heart of Mallory Square (where the nightly sunset celebration occurs). When eating in Key West, focus on fish and cuban food and you should do fine. (Don't, as my husband did, order a pasta dish at a seafood restuarant. That's just dumb.)

What's fun about Key West is the whole surreal-ness of it all. I think most islands develop a certain surreal quality to them. It takes a certain personality to choose the island lifestyle. Key West embodies that attitude. The history of Key West is marked by a fierce sense of independence. I think, at one point, Key West tried to secede from the US and named itself the Conch Republic.

The main attraction in Key West is Old Town, or more specifically Duval Street which consists of a mile and half of endless bars, restaurants, offensive tee shirt stores, art galleries, and other opportunities to buy crap that says "Key West" on it. But it's fun. People are REALLY enjoying themselves. Certainly, I was raised not to have a cocktail before 12:00 pm, but in Key West, I was in the minority. Every morning when I walked by a bar and saw someone sitting there drinking a beer, I'd have to check my watch. What time is it??

It's not so much the bar scene that made it surreal. It was a series of other things: it was the friendliness of the homeless alcoholics. If you're going be a homeless alcoholic, Key West is the place to do that. Since everyone there is in some state of intoxication, the homeless alcoholics feel a little more like part of the team. In normal society, they are ostracized. Not so much in Key West. So they join your conversation as you walk by, or they start random conversations with you. They loved my son and wanted to know all about him. They were not at all afraid to ask personal questions about his background.

We also loved the drag queens, who really rule the town. To say this town is "gay friendly" is an understatement. (But all good party towns are!)

One night, L & I got a sitter so we could do some partying on Duval Street sans two year old. We heard about a "clothing optional" rooftop bar so we decided we had to check it out. Upon entering the bar, we were greeted by a group of fully dressed patrons all watching a smaller group of naked couples dancing. Naked drunk couples in their 60s. Who had been in Key West for a LONG time. Now I doubt these people had just randomly come up to the bar and took their clothes off and started dancing. I'm pretty sure that the bar paid these people (probably in alcohol) to dance naked every night. Regardless, I felt like I was in a Stanely Kubrick movie.

Another surreal incident occurred one afternoon when the three of us were walking downtown to catch the sunset celebration (surreal in itself). As we were walking, we heard a loud crash, followed by loud moans and the sound of glass breaking. We looked to our right, and saw a guy riding a bike had just smashed into a car parked on the street. We asked him if he was ok. He didn't even look at us (and we were 3 feet away). He grunted "yeah" and got back on his bike and sped away. It was 5:30 in the afternoon! Man, that was a surreal incident that scared the crap out of me!

I think the most surreal event was watching the Catman's show. As I mentioned before, every night at sunset, a celebration ensues in Mallory Square (located at on the pier on the tip of Old Town.) Street performers amass and shows go on all over the square. But the best show, the only one to see is the Catman.

The Catman has been performing in Key West for quite a number of years. He looks just like Mr. Burns on the Simpons, only with long, shaggy gray hair. He has a thick accent (French, I think) which makes him somewhat indecipherable. Well, it could be that he's talking nonsense and that's why it seemed indecipherable. He was a certifiable mad man. His show involved his cats jumping through hoops, and catching treats in their paws, and culminated with the cats jumping through rings of fire. (How the hell do you teach a cat to do this??) Both my son and my husband were entranced with the Catman. I thought my child was going to have seizures of delight watching the Catman's bizarre antics.

Go to Key West, the carribean New Orleans. You'll sure to be entertained!

Holy Moly, Guacamole!

I have a confession. I am a whore for mexican food. I mean, if I could smear guacamole all of myself and then dive into a giant bath of margaritas...well, let's just say, that would be bliss. My husband shares my passion. So much we do love Mexican food, that we actually got married in Mexico. For weeks before the wedding, we talked about the food we would be eating while in Mexico. And the guacamole. Mmmmmmm, the guacamole.

And this is why we love Rosa Mexicano. Yes, it is a chain and comes from New York, not Mexico, but still, they know what they're doing over at Rosa Mexicano. And they have the best, the very best, (even better than in Mexico) guacamole on earth. I could literally eat the whole bowl myself, but my husband insists on sharing it with me. (Why doesn't he get his own???)

While we crave Mexican food generally, and guacamole more specifically, let's face it: no matter what you eat, Mexican food is never not fattening. So we're quite judicious about frequenting our favorite mexican restaurant in the city. We wait til we can stand it no more. Til we're dreaming about guacamole. Til our stomachs ache for it. Til I find myself caressing avocados in the grocery store in a trance...with visions of Sunday brunch at Rosa Mexicano dancing in my head.

It's not just the guacamole that's good (although we can't get past that). Everything is good. The queso fundido...cheesy and chorizo deliciousness. The chile aquiles..more cheese/ham deliciousness, only with eggs. The shredded pork tacos....ohhhhhh, to die for.

Oh, I can't take it any longer. I'm off to rendevous with Rosa....

Nightclub Dining

Back in the day, I spent most of my weekends hanging out in nightclubs til the wee hours of the morning, and sleeping all day. Way, way back in the day, I spent my weekends hanging out at in the rock clubs sustaining hearing loss while listening to loud rock bands.

But that's all changed. Frankly, I'm too old for either of those scenes. Plus, as a mom to a two-year-old, I can hardly stay out all night and sleep all day. Truthfully, it wasn't the child that changed my lifestyle. It was the relationship that preceded the child. When you're in a relationship, hanging out in the clubs til dawn loses its allure. The man in question, my husband L, is passionate about food and works in the restaurant biz. Hence, our foodie lifestyle.

I wasn't on board immediately with the whole parade of endless restaurants. What made it click for me is, at the same time that my lifestyle was changing, so was the dining scene. Suddenly, restaurants became the new hot spots; the "it" places, the places to see and be seen, where all the cool kids went. I dubbed this new scene "nightclub dining." My dear friend Brad was more candid in his observation. After having dinner at a new Atlanta restaurant, he said "it's for people who are too old for the clubs, but don't realize it yet." I remember when he said that, I blushed. I felt...exposed.

On a recent Saturday night, I had dinner at RA Sushi, a new sushi restaurant here in town. Sadly, I think was too old for the scene. Alas!

RA Sushi takes nightclub dining to a whole new level. My friend and I walked into the restaurant and were greeted with loud, thumping music courtesy of a DJ in the corner mixing the beats. The cocktail menu included a section of shots. Seriously. Shots. The bar area was packed with hot women and guys on the hunt. There was even a bachelorette party at the bar. Here, the emphasis was definitely on the "nightclub" and not so much on the dining.

Except that, the food was good. And plentiful. We ordered lobster egg rolls and the appetizer came out with 4 eggrolls. Have you ever seen that? Usually, you get two, sometimes only one that you have to split in half. The sushi rolls, although a little odd in their descriptions, were quite good. So, while I probably won't go back for dinner. I'll definitely go back for lunch.

Boulevard of Beyond Our Dreams

As L finished his last forkful of food at Boulevard the other night, he looked at me and said "that was one of our top 5 meals. Ever." High praise indeed. Particularly, for a restaurant that I dismissed not once, but twice, in my quest to find the best San Francisco dining experience.

Let me back up: In preparing for our recent vacation to San Fran and Napa, I did what I usually do: I scoured the internet searching for all the best restaurants. Who cares about the "sites?" Where will we eat? Will it be fabulous? How can I be sure? The stakes are higher now that we have child. We simply can't go to all the fabulous restaurants we want to. For this trip, we planned on getting a sitter one night in Napa and one night in San Fran. So we had one shot in San Fran to have the perfect dining experience. Obviously, finding the right restaurant is no easy task.

Based on an article on epicurious.com, I narrowed my search to two restaurants. Then L nixed one of those choices and added a pick of his own. I noticed some high praise for Boulevard in Zagat, but I didn't put it on my "A" list, instead I put it on my "B" list. Finally, L & I agreed on Spruce (mainly because I liked the cocktail menu.) Alas, although I called 2 weeks in advance, the only reservation I could get was at 5:30 or 10:30 (I thought I had misdialed and somehow reached Nobu!) Feeling dejected, I was back at aquare one.

A couple days later, I sat in my office and noticed the word "Boulevard" written on a scrap of paper and I remembered I had to make a reservation somewhere fast. L's pick was Restaurant Gary Danko. I just wasn't excited about that pick. Later, I noticed that Wine Spectator had given Restuanant Gary Danko really high marks. So, I started to get excited about the prospect of dining there. Called the restuarant, tried to make a reservation, and they essentially laughed at me. "Wow. This was going to be tough," I thought.

I went back to the Wine Spectator article. And there it was. Boulevard. It kept coming back to me. Calling me. So I went back to there website and looked at the menu. I had looked before, but it didn't grab me. The second time, however, it did. I called and they were happy, pleasant, accommodating! I asked for an 8:00 reservation on a Saturday night and she gave me 8:15!!

Later that day, I ran into a friend who spends alot of time in San Fran, and told her that I had made reservations at Boulevard. She said "oh, that's the place I was going to recommend! You'll love it!" Later still, L's cousin came over and told us he had eaten there and loved it.

So it seemed destined.

And it did not disappoint. Boulevard is a lovely restaurant with warm lighting and lush, homey (perhaps, a little dated) decor. We were thrilled to discover that they serve our favorite champagne (Billicart-Salmon Brut Rose) by the glass! Dinner was fabulous and dessert was even better. (And I have to say, the people watching rocked, too. Across from us, was a 50-something guy with a 20-something hottie, and while it was definitely not their first date, I'm pretty sure it was their first "sex" date. Behind me, was 60-something guy with a date who looked like he plucked her right out of high school. Based on her ridiculous attire, I was pretty sure she was a working girl, and a low rent one, at that.)

Was it a Top 5 meal for me? Probably not (and that list is a post for another day!) But it was excellent and memorable and a wonderful San Franscico dining experience, which is what we were after.