Some Enchanted Evening

Tonight was one of those nights where the company was so good that we could have been anywhere and had a rollicking good time.

It was the inaugural outing for my bialy-pushing friend Gregg, the girlfriend I would marry if she were a man and Mac the Magnificent, one of my absolute favorite chefs in RVA.

We were a foursome to be reckoned with.

For reasons I won't go into, we decided to meet at Bellytimber.

We ordered a lot of food: romaine salad, sweet potato tots, torta (this one was my choice: Logan's hot chorizo, queso blanca, black beans, avocado, pico de gallo and lettuce on a house made roll), red curry shrimp pizza with cilantro and mint, duck confit pizza with red onions, cheddar, cilantro and hoison sauce and one of tonight's specials, chicken tamales with corn salsa.

Everyone tasted everything just to have an opinion for discussion's sake.

We were a bit limited in our drinking because they were out of good tequila (to my amazement and disappointment) and the white wine list consisted of two chardonnays, a sauvignon blanc and a pinot grigio.

Sadly, the music was so low as to be inaudible.

But the company was outstanding, with talk of a recent wine outing (look at me! I'm bottling wine!), an out-of-this world meal at the Ashby Inn in Paris, VA (the hot and cold cucumber shot alone was worth hearing about twice) and more food talk than most people would consider normal...or care to subject themselves to.
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From there we walked the two blocks to Six Burner where we were enthusiastically greeted and all was made right with the world.

We were immediately treated to two enormous bowls of chocolate mousse to make up for the recent past and happily found that the featured white wine was a Portuguese Vino Verdhe.

Martinis were bruised, Meyer's Rum made drinks brown (ah, youth, mine at least) and the Portuguese ruled.

Life was good again.

We got into a foodie discussion with a nearby couple because the woman said she ate absolutely everything...except beets.

The men in our party did their best to make serving suggestions, but she wasn't budging on her beet hate.

As her mate said, "In all these years, I've never seen a beet cross her lips."

Clearly our cooking-savvy men were not going to change her mind about beets tasting like gasoline. End of beet discussion.

When we finally broke camp, it was only because we were the only non-staff members in the bar.

This get-together had been months in the making but once in progress, we all agreed that it must become a regular event.

Our senses of humor mesh beautifully and our interest in food/restaurant talk could not be tolerated by most others, so we ended up being the perfect quartet.

And not to be underestimated are the pleasures of a boy, girl, boy girl evening.

No matter which way I turned, there was always someone offering me great conversation or a witty bon mot.

Even the insincere compliments, and there were many, were worth hearing. My blue dress and I can take what you dish out.

I think I may have just joined my first mutual admiration society.