Day 10--and Internet Gremlins

The damn internet gremlins have been feasting on the cable signal here at Chez Evil. All day the kidlets and I have been trying to connect, and then, yes, at 10:00 p.m. C.S.T it went and fixed itself. So I'm going to make the deadline for today!

Mr. Sweetie and I are availing ourselves of the freedom of older children: we went out to dinner. Just the two of us. Like a real date! We went to this little bistro in an old historic building towndown, and Oh. My. God. Why have we never gone there before? Why have strangers not accosted us on the street, grabbed our labels and shaken us, shouting "You have to go eat there! You don't know what you are missing! Go there immediately! The end is near! Repent! Go eat at A Rebours!"

(We will now break for a little food porn. Please keep the vulnerable away.)

We started out with a marvellous Pinot Grigio/Chardonnay mix: it had the mineral sharpness of a viognier, a bright taste with a long finish, and was served perfectly icy cold. It had a complex taste, soft then sharp, sweet then spicy...it danced across your tastebuds like the Nicholas Brothers. (And if you don't know who the Nicholas Brothers were, go Google them immediately.)(On edit: or look just above this post. I got a clip from You Tube, but I can't get Blogger to let me post it with a title or anything. *Sigh*)

I wasn't terribly hungry, and didn't want an appetizer, but Mr. Sweetie ordered the mussels. I don't eat mussels. They smell like sea water to me, and if you don't drink sea water I don't see why you'd eat it. But, they came to the table and smelled divine. They were cooked with a wonderful warm broth--like a lamb broth I'd had once, though I don't know what this was, and so I let Mr. Sweetie talk me into tasting one.

Remember when you were a kid, and you'd go out with all the kids in the neighborhood and you'd go sledding and you'd sled and sled and the sun would start to go down, and there was snow packed into the tops of your boots and your wrists were red and chapped because your mittens didn't reach up to your sleeves, and by the time you got home your eyes were all watery and you couldn't even feel your nose any more, and you'd come inside and there'd be a fire in the fireplace and you'd put your feet into cozy slippers and your mom gave you some hot cocoa with as many marshmallows as you wanted? The mussels tasted like that. Warm and cozy and sanctuary against the cold winter--which was represented by the icy cold wine. It was marvelous. But I only had one, because I was saving myself for...

The steak au poivre, which came to the table on a tiny mound of creamed mustard greens. It was a rich dark brown, covered in a rich brown sauce, and yielded to the steak knife so easily, revealing a moist pink interior. I put it in my mouth and had a conversion experience, right there at the banquette. My soul hath been uplifted and I have glimpsed heaven.

I might feel guilty about it, except that Mr. Sweetie was having the very same sort of experience with his wild salmon. That meal was better than anything I've eaten in years. Years, I tell you! It was delicious, and warm and the waitstaff was attentive and personable and the room was charming and funky in an understated way, and my dinner companion was the best one possible...

And then we had dessert. Our waiter recommended the banana profiteroles, and they were fabulous. Rum infused chocolate sauce over delicate and tiny cream puffs, perfectly smooth vanilla ice cream, and cooked bananas lightly fried with coconut. But when the espresso came, I though Mr. Sweetie's eyes were going to roll into the back of his head and stay there. Oh my god it was delicious.

So, we will go back, but I think we'll have to wait a while. You wouldn't want to get too used to that kind of fabulousness, because where would you go after that?