Correct on All Counts

After being all kinds of busy in the best possible ways this weekend, I was very much looking forward to sharing all that in a long lunch with a good friend today.

I suggested Bistro 27 for its terrific $9 lunch and when he registered doubt, it necessitated me proving my point. Besides, it kept us in the neighborhood and I hadn't lunched there in eons.

He had never had lunch there so the enticing menu quickly overwhelmed him, delaying the meal I so desperately craved. He wanted the burger, but it was too much meat, he was tempted by the sausage salad, but couldn't commit and all the while my stomach was growling.

I put an end to his indecision by suggesting we split a Cesar salad and then share the half pound grilled ground Montana Wagyu Kobe with Cheddar and bacon burger. Mercifully, he acquiesced easily and finally.

Chef Carlos came over to tell me about his Restaurant Week menu (lamb shanks! Chorizo!) and talk about how he loves to over-deliver that week and impress people. No doubt a second Restaurant Week will make even more converts to the Church of 27.

Our salads arrived along with the food for the trio at the bar sipping Rose next to us. We were amazed to see the tiny, white-haired woman was the one who'd ordered the enormous burger, which she promptly tore into and finished (I aspire to be that 90-year old eating a half pound of meat for lunch with my Rose).

I have a friend who considers Bistro 27's burger to be the best in town and, frankly, given the tastiness of that beef, that's not a difficult case to make. We'd gotten a mixture of white and sweet potato fries, thus satisfying every salty need we could have to complement our burger.

We talked about my weekend and the surprising number of interesting guys I'd met while in DC, perhaps an indication that I needed a change of scenery.

As a matter of fact, the same friend who had rated 27's burger #1 had also told me that I would have much better luck finding a partner in a bigger city where I might find more guys with my array of interests who would see me as a catch.

Could he be right about two things, the burger and me? I can't bear to tell him because he's right about so much so often (just ask his girlfriend). But now another friend was saying almost the same thing.

And he'd been so busy offering love life advice that he'd begun his lunch assault by filling up on fries, making him unable to eat the last bite of his burger. So sad for him, but fortunate for me.

Bartender Ron handed me the dessert menu as soon as our plates were cleared. "Are you presuming I want dessert?" I asked in mock-indignation.

"I know you at least want to browse," he said knowingly. But with my lunch partner too stuffed to finish his burger, I had no dessert partner in crime and declined.

"Maybe you're finally opening yourself up," my friend said, wrapping up his analysis as we approached his house. "Maybe your luck is finally starting to gather its forces."

Gather away. Ready when you are, Luck.