Before we're about to leave a place, Steve and I have a totally irresponsible, no-holds-barred tradition of getting all dolled up and going to a last-hurrah dinner at some extravagant place. In San Francisco we went to Chez Panisse on this occasion. In Phoenix, Binkley's. In Anchorage, Marx Brothers'--
I should stop, I'm drooling.
Tonight was Cyrus. I sat there and watched my husband, who never ceases to amaze me, eat the following scrumptions which in the past he's claimed to dislike:
poached salmon
chanterelles
black truffles
and I continued to watch, grinning, as he took bits of bread and sopped up the ragout--facendo la scarpetta--because he loved it so.
We got treats, too, (salted caramels, brownies, sables) for the ride home, which I'm carefully coveting until...tomorrow? Maybe. What fun.
image by !Just In Time!
No comments:
Post a Comment