Bouchon: Seeking Talk. Finding Brains.

The beauty of Bouchon is that every time I go there, I meet a bumper crop of entertaining people.

The clientele draws from people in the neighborhood (Vistas on the James, Riverside on the James, Monroe Ward) as well as travelers (Boston, Cincinnati, Williamsburg) and tonight was no different, so I had no shortage of engrossing conversational partners.

And that wasn't even counting Chef Francis and wife Wendy, who wanted my opinion on a dozen different rva restaurants.

Maybe Antonia was right about my restaurant referral service, although I always qualify these conversations by reminding people that all I can offer is my opinion and that I'm not any sort of expert.

The discussion got off to a synergistic start, though, when we discovered that we shared the same opinion of the holy grail of RVA dining and rolled on from there.

I debated over the menu while sipping a Loire Muscadet and had just about decided when I heard the specials, changing everything.

"Calf brain with capers, croutons, lemon and brown butter," my server said. Done.

I turned to Francis and asked why I would order off the regular menu and pass up such an infrequently-seen delicacy, to which he answered, "Only if you have no brains do you pass up brains."

That's me, always providing the humorous set-up. Then he excused himself to prepare my brains.

Just as I was chatting up a nearby bar-sitter about music (there are few people with whom I can discus Nick Zinner and he was one) and he was sharing his wine geekiness (telling me about a can't- miss upcoming tasting), a plate arrived from the kitchen bearing Caillettes, a specialty from Provence, made of veal, pork and Swiss chard.

These fat little sausage-like bundles were incredibly rich, so the accompanying frisse helped offset the indulgence.

Well, that and the wine. The meal was off to a superb start.

Then came my brains and they were a sensory delight. I was inhaling the heady scent of the butter-sauteed brains, I was looking at a plate of brown butter with tiny little croutons and capers and the texture could only be described as creamy.

Good god, they were wonderful and I ate every bite. I told Francis he was ruining my figure and he just laughed. Apparently he's okay with that.

I enjoyed conversation and Rose with a Petersburg-born local with a bowtie and an affinity for history and the symphony; he seemed to be as big a Richmond booster as I am.

It's always fun to talk to someone who doesn't blanch when they learn I don't have a TV, although he did have to explain a Sex and the City reference to me as a result.

When the subject of the Virginia State Capital came up, I shared that I was undoubtedly one of the few people who has ever stood on its roof and marveled at the magnificent 360-degree view of the city.

We talked about touring the renovated Capital together since I haven't been since it reopened and he had nothing but raves for its new look. History geeks unite!

The local next to me started to chat up the visitor from Cincinnati about restaurants, offering recommendations.

I mostly stayed out of it (although I didn't always agree with his picks) until he started raving about the Tobacco Company. I prefer to show our best rather than our most cliched side to out-of-towners, so I interjected. I had to.

If a person is only in town for three nights, I prefer not to underwhelm them, especially with all we have to offer now. The visitor thanked me for my input with a wink and a smile.

From an empty bar on my arrival through all kinds of conversational tangents with a full bar, I left a half-filled bar to carry on without me.

I have no doubt that my next trip to Bouchon will again yield an array of good talkers and an excellent meal.

It always does.