The Delano

I have never been a fan of the state of Florida. Sure, it has some beautiful beachs, but to get anywhere you have to drive at least 30 minutes on an eight-lane super highway, past a billion strip malls and gaudy chain restaurants. To me, Florida is largely a cultural wasteland.

And then I went to Miami. South Beach is like the anti-Florida. Cool, hip, happening spots, one after the other. It's pedestrian-friendly, too, which I think is the mark of a good city. And, oh, the pedestrians! My God, is there some good looking eye-candy strolling the streets of South Beach.

The jewel in the South Beach crown has got to be the Delano.

A few years ago, my husband and I were in Miami for New Year's Eve, which happens to be my birthday. When I began looking into New Year's Eve parties, I quickly discovered that we really couldn't afford any. For example, the Delano's New Year's Eve party was $900 per person and it was cash bar! (Nobu was $1200 a person.)

We decided to have lunch at the Delano instead. It was fabulous. Everything was all white and marble. Our adorable gay waiter treated us like celebrities even thou there were actual celebrities in the restaurant at the same time. And, he brought me a complimentary birthday dessert. How sweet!!!

The best thing, the very best thing, the thing that makes me want to go back was the mojitos. Sure, the food was good. But this was lunch and I had a cobb salad. But the mojitos! They were magic deliciousness. I don't know what they do to make them so good. Maybe it's the combination of the awesome sun-drenched, sleek surroundings, the beautiful clientele and the perfect mint leaves. I don't know but if someone knows the exact ingredients, please share!

That $900 party we missed: I read later that George Clooney was there. If I had known that, I would have sold my husband to go.

Dining With Child

Yes, we are those people; the type who take their infant/toddler to fine dining restaurants. I always hear people talking about "kid friendly" restaurants and I wonder "what restaurant isn't?" In my opinion, it's not about whether the restaurant is kid-friendly. It's about picking a kid friendly time to go to the restaurant.

We've been taking our now-two year old son out to eat since we could carry him around in a car seat. For the most part, our experiences have been all good. This is largely due to the fact that we go out to eat at 6:00 pm. No respectable diner is having dinner at that ungodly hour, unless they, too, have kids or they're very old. Either wya, other patrons at that hour are more sympathetic. We get alot of smiles and laughs. No one minds if we suddenly burst into "the wheels on the bus go round and round" for no apparent reason. If they do have a problem with it, screw 'em. They should not be out eating such an uncivilized hour if they don't want to run into kids.


But it doesn't always go smoothly. On beautiful Friday night, when my son was just 8 months old, I suggested to L that we go somewhere outside. I suggested a mexican restaurant (clearly kid-friendly) in an outdoor shopping area. Well, L had another idea. He thought we should go to Dolce.

Now, I know I previously stated that most restaurants are kid friendly, but I would put Dolce in a category of restaurants that really aren't. It's a very sexy room, with dark wall-to-wall carpeting, white leather booths, and sleek lighting. It caters to the hip, party crowd. In fact, the servers are encouraged to do shots with the guests. But we knew the chef and it was 6:00 pm, so we thought it would be ok.

We rolled A's stroller up to our table and I kept him occupied by feeding him mashed avocados and bananas while we sipped cocktails and ordered excellent Italian food.

Then I gave him a bottle.

And maybe some cheerios. I keepd feeding him to keep him quiet.

Perhaps, this was a mistake.

Suddenly, I looked down and my child had turned into Linda Blair. A thick, glow-in-the -dark green vomit erupted from his little mouth, pouring all over him, down his stroller and onto the sleek dark carpeting.

I was horrified.

I carried my puke covered baby towards the restroom which was all black with black toilet paper but no baby changer. My server recognized my predicament and led me to a private lounge area and I was able to change my baby, who in addition to being covered in puke, had a very messy diaper, on a plush black couch. We then returned to our table and finished our meal. Except for the puke, we had a really nice time.

Our son has dined with us all over the city. He has a little fanclub of servers who know and have watched him grow. Recently, we were having brunch at Parish when a server approached me and asked my baby's name. I told her and she said "oh, I met you before. I use to work at another restaurant and I served you there." I said "oh, what restaurant?" She said "Dolce." I walked away in shame.