Are the Stars Out Tonight?

Last night it was stars of the celestial kind watching the Perseid meteor shower out in the country.

Tonight it was a star of the culinary kind, celebrating what would have been Julia Child's 101st birthday.

Things were hopping when I arrived and slid into the only available bar stool at Secco, in between a poet I've heard read to my left and a large, tattooed man wearing a tooled leather wrist cuff to my right.

I like to think that Julia would have appreciated the diversity.

A special menu culled from Julia's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" seemed like the only way to go so I did.

Starting with a glass of Domaine de Noire Chinon and a bowl of chilled garlic soup, I felt appropriately provided for.

The soup delivered the best kind of garlic breath and was adorned with hard-boiled egg yolk and whites with a center of pickled garlic.

As a bonus, I got one perfect escargot in a pate a choux cup with parsley/garlic butter.

I wasn't getting kissed any time soon, so there was no such thing as too much garlic tonight.

The tattooed man and his date soon left and a new guest sat down one stool away from me.

Without missing a beat, my server greeted him and gestured to me. "This is Karen," he said, probably anticipating that we'd end up talking.

A transplant from New Orleans, this guy had recently moved from Chester to the Fan and was systematically trying to get to know his neighborhood.

He'd tried to get in the Daily but there had been no seats so he decided to try Secco.

I assured him he'd made a far better choice.

When he asked for a dessert recommendation, I didn't hesitate to steer him toward that luscious hazelnut gelato with cocoa nibs.

He thanked me later.

The two of us were soon joined by another single, this one a guy who just moved a mere two blocks away and was out walking his dog when he decided to stop for some wine.

Pooch was tied up out front while we chatted.

We got on the subject of walking and he told us he walked from Carytown to Rockett's Landing for brunch.

And back.

The Fan newcomer was aghast at the distance, but as a daily walker, I could see the appeal of an all-day walk with brunch and drinks sandwiched in between.

And, yes, I do realize that C-town guy and I are in the minority for thinking that.

My new friends wanted to know why I was out having dinner by myself, so I brought them up to speed on whose birthday it was.

I told them that I was a fan of Julia's not just for her passion for cooking, but because I thought she'd had one of the greatest relationships I'd ever read about.

I'd picked up her autobiography, "My Life in France," to learn more about her development as a cook and been blown away by the terribly romantic story of her relationship with her husband, Paul.

They were two people utterly devoted to each other.

A couple who were passionate about eating, drinking, conversing and traveling together.

"That's it!" said the Carytown dweller. "I just bought a new house with this beautiful kitchen so I'm going to look for a woman who can cook or at least teach me to cook! That's my new requirement for dating."

I wished him good luck in his endeavor, admitting that I'm partial to men who cook.

After two glasses of Nebbiolo Rose, he felt like he'd better get on with walking the dog and said goodnight.

Fan man lingered a while and we chatted about how I manage to live without a cell phone and how challenging it's been for him to live without TV the past two weeks.

In other words, we didn't have a lot in common except a shared appreciation for gelato.

When he left, I took the opportunity to finally eat my Julia Child-inspired dinner.

Hanger steak au poivre came with sauteed potatoes and watercress in a cognac sauce, the richness of the sauce a beautiful foil for the peppery crust of the meat.

As I sat there savoring each bite, suddenly the music stopped me mid-chew.

Of all the unlikely songs to come on, between the Shins and the XX, it was the Spinners' "I'll Be Around."

Much as I prefer new music, I found it absolutely charming.

Whenever you call me, I'll be there
Whenever you want me, I'll be there
Whenever you need me, I'll be there
I'll be around

It was such an unlikely-sounding song to hear that I asked the staff who'd put it on the Secco iPod.

Not a soul would admit to it.

Actually, it sounded like exactly the sort of romantic lyrics Paul would have sung to Julia.

Ghost selection, so to speak.

My meal finished with a miniature orange spongecake with white chocolate buttercream, one perfect bite to represent Julia's birthday cake.

Happy 101st, old girl. I only hope I do as well in love as you did.

Until then, I'll be around.