What kind of friend brings you funky tights from every interesting country he visits? A very thoughtful friend, that's who. Tonight I met up with that old friend, whom I've only seen twice in the past two years. He's the considerate one who supplied me with the unusual Berlin tights that everyone's been raving about lately. Tonight, it was gifts of Salzburg and Barcelona tights, very different and both befitting the cities of their origin.
We began at Davis and Main for a glass of wine and to decide the course of the evening. We had lots of catching up to do and we did, right up until he offered to make dinner, and what idiot would turn down an invitation to have dinner cooked for her? Surely not me, so we headed to his house for fun and feasting.
After a stinky cheese and Italian salami start to the evening, he began meal preparation in earnest. There was a wedge salad with blue cheese, bacon and ranch dressing, followed by a wonderful meal of rare lamb chops, roasted asparagus and crusty rolls, accompanied by a Lirac wine from the Rhone Valley; it was all incredibly well done and I didn't leave a bite. Conversation ranged from the civil rights movement to book series to Richard Thompson. We even discussed my lack of interest and effort in dating, although he couldn't offer much advice to help my situation, in spite of our fifteen years of friendship. Ah, well, even old friends can't solve all my problems.
It was enough that we enjoyed a terrific meal together. I am grateful for his stellar cooking skills and the pleasure of unusually smart conversation. The smoking hot tights are just icing on the cake.