Taste with the Heart

Tonight was all about birthdays and hearts.

And that doesn't even begin to cover it.

Bistro 27 had put its regulars on notice: chicken hearts were to be had for one night only.

Had I had chicken hearts before? No.

Did I want chicken hearts tonight? But of course.

So I found a willing heart-eater and we made our way to my favorite neighborhood joint, finding the place hopping at 5:30.

"The Producers" has a 7:00 curtain across the street, so eager theatergoers were getting their feedbag on beforehand.

As I tried to make a left toward my favorite bar stool, I saw Chef Carlos' wife and twin baby girls.

Turns out it was the girls' first birthday, too, having conveniently been born on their father's birthday.

So it was to be a three-way celebration with hearts. And cheese rolls.

Apparently in Brazil (Carlos' birthplace), cheese rolls are so popular that even McDonald's has them on the menu.

Tonight, they were part of the birthday celebration.

And what an array of celebrants there were!

Armed with only a glass of Sangiovese, I did my meeting and greeting from the comfort of my bar stool.

Soon, food arrived in the form of chicken hearts on a skewer, along with chicken hearts braised with potatoes.

If eating hearts has the ability to make me bigger hearted, I am most certainly a better person after the dozen hearts I wolfed down.

I got handed one of the twin babies, complete with cheese roll in her tiny hand, and soon discovered how much she liked being laid on my outstretched legs and lowered upside down.

No doubt I was introducing her to the gateway drug to more thrilling pastimes and her father will probably not thank me for it.

Plates of the cheese rolls arrived, airy and quickly consumed.

We did a group birthday sing for Carlos, with the baby in my lap applauding along with everyone else after the song.

A portabella mushroom "napoleon" followed and I found that babies born of a Brazilian father will eat pieces of vinaigrette-soaked Mozzarella like it was as bland as a Saltine.

It was pretty cute.

Lobster ravioli in shrimp bisque was next and one swipe of the bisque delivered the flavor of many shrimp long-cooked.

As is usual with Carlos' ravioli of the day, the filling was abundant and the pasta perfectly cooked.

Because of so many other guests, the conversation was all over the place.

The pleasures of sleeping in versus the paycheck of a 9 to 5 job. Women who lose their fathers and take years to recover. The new arthouse theater at Movieland. Starting a new restaurant job on a busy night.

Eventually the babies left, sent home with freshly cooked pasta courtesy of their talented Dad, and the party went back to being about birthdays and hearts.

Over another glass of Sangiovese, the Brazilian shared his thoughts on planning a trip to Spain and Portugal, based more on what he'd heard than what he'd experienced, since he hadn't been. Yet.

But the eating wasn't over and the next course was head cheese, a personal favorite, and the first time I'd had Carlos' version.

He said he'd been so tempted by a $17 pig's head that he bought it and began the process of turning it into what could be called high-end Scrapple.

With a good mustard and a swirl of a balsamic reduction, it was just beautiful.

By this time, I'd missed the Classical Revolution show at the Camel (musicians sight-reading classical music while getting drunk), so the only logical thing seemed to be to order dessert and more wine.

A chocolate hazelnut torte rounded out an evening of many distinctive flavors as the restaurant gradually emptied out and only the good people were left.

Or maybe that's just how I saw things given all the heart I'd taken in.