All About the Mayo

When you send a friend an e-mail with the subject line "ARGHHHHH!" and she responds by suggesting lunch the next day, she is a very good friend.

We met at Mint, a place I hadn't been in ages, and she was already happily ensconced at a front window table when I arrived.

We were a study in contrasting mornings, since she'd been up since 6 a.m. and already had all kinds of colorful spreadsheets and accomplishments under her belt, while all I'd managed in the hour I'd been up was fruit and a walk.

But I'd run into three familiar faces on that walk, one Listening Room regular in his work clothes (although I recognized the ponytail from behind), a delivery guy who shook his head, laughing, and said, "Still walking the streets, huh?" and a loose-limbed artist who said, "Yo!" and is the source of one of the pieces that hangs on my wall.

Perhaps that accounted for our different takes on bevvies.

"I think I might want a wee glass of wine," she said. "What day is it? Tuesday? That's a good reason."

Explaining to our server that she'd already had three cups of coffee, he quipped, "So you need to come down now."

Wisely, I matched her Pinot Grigio with a Coke.

I was eager to see the menu since I'd heard that Julep's executive chef, Randy, had taken up residence at Mint for a while to re-tool the menu.

That was all the encouragement I needed when I saw a shrimp salad sandwich listed.

Nobody much does shrimp salad anymore, so I was curious.

My cute friend was craving meat, so she ordered a bleu brie kobe beef burger with port wine reduction and our gracious (and funny) server allowed us to get side salads instead of the usual side choices, pickle chips, french fries or truffle potato salad.

While waiting for our food to arrive, we discussed her introversion.

As I already knew, she's happiest at home in pajamas with her Kindle while I require outside stimulation.

Turns out she's getting plenty of stimulation at home because she's currently reading "Sex Tips for Straight Women from a Gay Man."

Besides lots of laughs, she said it's the kind of read where she's thinking, "Uh-huh, uh-huh, ooh, I didn't know that," a learning experience, so to speak.

Our eats arrived, looking perfectly scrumptious and we tucked into them immediately.

The sex reader is a mayo-phobe, and while I'm no fan of it either (I can tolerate it in small amounts as a binding agent), she was sure she'd hate my shrimp salad.

Wrong. Not only was it not a gloppy mayo mess, but the smoked tomato aioli that bound it together was stellar, subtle yet flavorful enough to let the shrimp shine through.

Even better, it was made with fresh corn, always a welcome addition to any kind of salad in my opinion.

As I always do, I managed to tear up the roof of my mouth on the sourdough toast of the sandwich, but that's a personal failing.

Meanwhile, she shared a bite of her juicy bleu brie burger, notable for its moistness even though cooked to her requested well-done temperature.

I was doing alright for someone who hadn't even been up two hours yet.

We'd decided to forsake appetizers in hopes of dessert (I do admire a place that has a beignet of the day), but I almost didn't get what I wanted.

When our server mentioned Duke's chocolate cake, I knew that he was talking about that vintage recipe that uses Duke's mayo instead of eggs.

My friend, however, had to ask and when she understood the Duke's part, made a face.

I gently explained that no mayo would appear to be present when the cake arrived.

"It's not like it has mayo icing or anything," our affable server inserted.

Trusting us both, she agreed and the enormous piece of iced chocolate cake with real whipped cream and berries assuaged any concerns she had about the dreaded mayo.

Apparently it tasted really good with her fourth cup of coffee, too.

I had to thank her for her rescue efforts, turning my "arghhhh" into a much better frame of mind after unloading and hearing affirmation that nothing beats intense intellectual conversation for some people.

This extrovert is one of those people and so is the friend who saved my day.

What day is it? Tuesday? That's a good day to lunch with an introvert.