Swagger and Figs

Go out Monday nights and avoid the crowds, but run into industry people everywhere.

Today's beautiful weather landed me at Lamplighter for some outside conversation with a couple of restaurant types and where I ran into a couple of the Balliceaux crew.

There's nothing like running into a trendy bartender and hearing that he's on his way home to spend the evening reading Harry Potter #4 to reassure me that all is right with the world.

Honestly, I mean that.

Next up was Secco because Mondays are a great night to go and enjoy a lively bar when most places are closed.

Greeting me on arrival was a Bistro 27 staffer enjoying his day off. We chatted on the sidewalk for a bit before he left and I went in.

As always at Secco, the hard part is picking a pink.

With a notation that it tasted like Capri Sun (in a good way) and was made with love, how could I resist Grange Tiphaine Rimage Tournant Touraine Rose with its deep pink color and fruity taste?

I couldn't.

I was lonely for company at the bar when I arrived, but that quickly changed with the arrival of a swaggering man (his words) and the steady company of talkative staff.

One of tonight's specials was a salad of arugula, figs, goat cheese and fried almonds in a 20-year old sherry vinaigrette.

Since I'm fig-obsessed lately, I found this combination to be a delightful one, with the peppery arugula balancing the sweetness of the figs.

I ended up talking to the swaggerer who boasted of wearing salmon colored shirts (the bartender had on lavender and that had been the starting point) as a way of making statements about himself.

It turns out that people questioned him for wearing such colors to work, but he told them that he was "working it," so he was entitled to wear whatever he wanted to.

He said it's all about the swagger, an attitude with which I have some familiarity in men.

He was also enthusiastically eating cheese, so I decided to follow suit with the Cabecou, described as "goaty, gooey and gorgeous."

It boggles the mind how many things besides cheese those adjectives could apply to.

Two of the servers described it as their current favorite, and after tasting its buttery creaminess, I could see why they'd praised it.

I couldn't decide whether it was better with the plum chutney or the onion jam, so I ate both with it.

But it wasn't just about cheese; I was meeting up with a friend who got the evening off to a great start by loaning me a book she highly recommended.

Yes it's a love story which I probably have no business reading, but it's hard to resist a book recommended for its beautiful language.

As another friend and I recently discussed, when it comes to love and potential mates, not knowing the difference between "your" and "you're" is a deal breaker.

And let's not even talk about "should of."

Language matters, at least to a certain nerdy set.

Meanwhile, a big-name chef came in with his lawyer; they were in the neighborhood checking out potential locations.

His bluster may have sucked  a bit of air out of the room, but we managed to carry on with our girl talk in spite of him.

Nerds have always had a way of tuning out the popular people.

It used to be about self-preservation. Now it's just choice.