Food, glorious food!

The landscapers are here, digging up the hedge that wouldn’t be and the two flowerbeds which have reverted to their feral state over time and with my tacit neglect. I am not pleased about this, but my husband insisted. I would rather he clean up his mess in the dining room than create a new mess in the front yard, but he’s bigger than I am.

However, I can forgive him much right now as I had the most incredible meal of my life yesterday evening at our favourite Italian restaurant, the place we usually go for birthdays and other special occasions. In fact, as we entered, Patrick the waiter/bartender greeted us (his birthday is the same as mine, coincidentally) and asked what the occasion was. When we announced it was our 25th wedding anniversary, everyone got very excited.

Buddy Boy ordered a steak, Little Princess manicotti, Hubby the chêvre florentine on fettucine, and I went the whole hog and got the table d’hôte. It started off with a mesclun salad smothered in fresh blueberries served in a fried cheese shell, was followed by curried leek soup, and then crowned with a pavé de thon rouge which was amazing. Every time the waitress came by to ask how things were, I was gushing with superlatives. The outside was crusted in something delicious, and the tuna itself was done to perfection: not rare but definitely not overcooked. It was served on an array of cooked vegetables and halved new potatoes (which could have been hotter, but that was the only flaw), and garnished with kalamata olives and some sauce which I more or less ignored.

Because there was no way I could possibly eat that much food at one sitting, I gave Little Princess half of my salad, both she and her brother helped me with the soup (although I got the lion’s share), and everyone sampled my tuna. The dessert was a slice of chocolate mousse bombe wallowing in chocolate sauce (it was orgasmically good), and the house presented us with a slice of gelato cake, both festooned with lit sparklers. The four of us made short work of the two desserts. Hubby got my coffee. We also polished off a bottle of red wine (I had a half glass as the designated driver) and Buddy Boy took advantage of his “of age” status to order two rum & cokes. He’ll be sorry about living in Ontario next week, where the drinking age is 19. Sigh.

Anyway, this morning I thought I wouldn’t need to eat again until at least mid-afternoon, but I’m feeling the tell-tale pangs of hunger as I write.

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