Roll Up Your French Cuffs and Pour

Since nobody was seeking the pleasure of my company this evening, I went to Secco, knowing I'd have a comfortable place for dinner and wine.

It turned out to be so much more because owner Julia and friends were ensconced on the front couches and beckoned me welcome when I entered.

Before long, the four of us were knee-deep in discussions of women's rights, Buckroe Beach (my grandmother would be so proud) and one-legged men with knives and chocolates (oh, I saw him).

I was given mega-points for my pronouncement, "Until you legislate your members, keep your laws off my ovaries."

Only a certain  kind of man would be so impressed with such a line.

Such sustained discussion required sustenance and I began with the Domaine Bagnot Cassis Rose and the smoked farro salad.

I've said it before but that farro salad is an amazing combination of flavors and textures and totally unlike anything else in town.

One of my favorite mixologists came in for a bite to eat and joined us on the couch for some gossip and updating.

I was sorry to hear that he's no longer making cocktails at Acacia: I had certainly noticed his absence when I'd been there last week.

From there I shifted to the Commanderie de Peyrassol Rose, and the prociutto-encrusted arancini with sweet pea/marjoram sauce.

The giant risotto balls filled with creamy peas and sauce were crispy outside and creamy inside and set on a bed of pea shoots.

It was a lovely springtime dish.

When we lost the couple, Julia and I moved on to more important topics like our parents' relationships (mine having been more successful than hers),what we learned from our own past relationships (be nice) and why phone communication is highly overrated.

It's satisfying to talk to another person who avoids the phone as assiduously as I do.

As we were admiring her 1966 copy of  "The Galloping Gourmet," I couldn't help but note the recipes it included for suet, sweetbreads and oxtail tongue, things likely to be absent from all but the trendiest cookbooks today.

Best of all, the photographs showed Kerr dredging poultry and sauteing livers in French cuffs and cuff links.

As Julia pointed out, we see so few French cuffs these days, unless it's on the arms of Barboursville's Jason Tessauro, author of "The Modern Gentleman."

In one of those bizarre coincidences that seem to dot my life, twenty minutes later he was in the  bar with a visiting winemaker from Portugal and we were tasting Crasto wines from across the pond.

Well, hello, Portugal.

Wine importer Bartholomew Broadbent had brought him here as part of a multi-city tour and so it is that we were enjoying a selection of whites, reds and ports from Douro while discussing Richmond's dining scene and, once the young sous chef joined us, music (311, really? How old are you again?).

With plates of roasted, spice almonds and marinated olives, we were all soon enmeshed in drinking very good reds, including old vine beauties that dazzled and ports that could make a convert out of anyone.

For something completely different, we ended with the utterly wonderful Coenobium Rusticum, a wine with lovely acidity followed by a long finish.

Likewise the conversation, which segued from all kinds of double entendres to intellect being the primary vehicle for foreplay.

 I do so enjoy the lead-up to my birthday celebration.

The most wonderfully unexpected experiences always seem to drop into my lap...and glass.

Fortunately, my multiple Gemini personalities can handle them all.