I have a friend from college who considers me the perfect woman. And by that, I mean, he provided me with a list of all the reasons he considers me the perfect woman (and let me make it perfectly clear that he has been happily married for ages). And as the man who's known me since I was 19, he probably knows me better than any man on earth. So it's probably not surprising that, despite him living in Maryland, we meet for lunch or dinner every single month, usually in Fredericksburg, sometimes in DC.
Out usual F-burg destination is Bistro Bethem on William Street; it's a great place with a vaulted ceiling, a 300-year old heart pine bar and a wood-burning pizza oven. The food is always fresh and seasonal (and they have amazing house-made charcuterie) and did I mention they have an excellent wine list? It's more than worth the scenic drive up 301 for a meal. At this point, my friend and I are such regulars that the staff knows us and considers a certain table "our usual." Today we did lunch and ate our way through avocado stuffed with crab meat over mesclun, barbecue sliders with homemade potato chips and an 8" slice of coconut cake.
I'd be the first to acknowledge that I'm not the perfect woman. Actually, everything about me on his list is true, but what he considers the qualifications for perfection would not necessarily be everyone's. Do I care? Would you?
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