Enjoying a Moorish Rub

I hadn't been in Lemaire in easily three months and when I walked in tonight, the bartender made  a beeline for me and said, "I'm going to Arcade Fire. Are you?"

Well of course I am, but it struck me as funny that that was how he greeted me. As he told me later, "I'd been dying to share that with someone and as soon as I saw you, I knew you'd be the one."

I'm always  glad to be somebody's "the one." We'd barely finished our talk of the challenges of ticket ordering and show expectations before my friends arrived to celebrate my birthday with me.

It was a couple date, with two of them and one of me, not that there's anything wrong with that.

I ran into wine god Bob Talcott, finishing up a glass and asking after our plans. He'd not yet formulated his, so we wished him luck while ordering a bottle of the Four Bears Sauvignon Blanc, which rewarded us with a lovely citrus nose and a long finish.

Although I'd seen my friends recently, I had several good stories to share as we scanned the menu trying to decide how best to sample it.

We settled on an array that included the Georgia sweet Vidalia onion bisque (with local lump crabmeat and bacon, oh my), the butter-basted jumbo sea scallops (I'd give butter-basted shoe leather a try in all likelihood), the Virginia microbrew beer-battered Hawaiian blue prawns, the crispy fried mac and cheese with cheese truffle fondue and one of the evening's specials (and my choice), a Moorish-rubbed pork skewer over arugula.

The bisque was the best kind of heart-attack-in-a -bowl, the butter-basted scallops obscenely rich, the prawns came with heads and tails on (to the consternation of the male), the mac and cheese a bit of overkill to my taste and the pork a standout.

The spicy Mediterranean flavors dominated the outside while the medium-rare insides were soft and succulent with the peppery arugula the perfect complement. Meat, seafood, veggies, pasta; we had it all.

After sharing my recent pheromone-fueled adventures, I was told of the wisdom of not dancing on sidewalks after midnight (her) and the idiocy of not joining someone when invited to sit in the front row (him).

In a relevant note, I was given a lesson on the history of the UR campus (which I consider a devil's triangle when trying to navigate) by my friend the alum, which helped me understand it much better.

I'd still prefer an urban campus any day, but I know I can't avoid the UR campus entirely because sometimes their events require my presence (and additional lead time to allow for my poor navigation skills).

The dessert menu led to my second discussion in as many days of white chocolate not being chocolate; I never bring it up, but I always agree. We decided on the "tasting of chocolate" selection, a trio of milk chocolate banana pot de creme, a Grand Marnier truffle torte and dark chocolate sorbet.

Each of us had a different favorite on the plate (pot de creme being mine) so we made short work of the sampler.

Lemaire attracts such an eclectic crowd; there was the businessman with his napkin tucked into his shirt collar, the very young couple canoodling on the banquette, the very old couple sipping their (what else?) old fashioneds. No one is ever out of place at not-your-mother's Lemaire and it's a fine place to celebrate an upcoming birthday.

When my couple date was busy making goo-goo eyes at each other, I discussed watching Coachella being streamed live with our bartender.

There's always something good to discuss with a person who considers me "the one" when it comes to music.

As for someone who considers me "the one" in all respects, there's just no telling when or if that conversation would ever end.

Totally willing to find out.