When American Women Talk

Saturday nights are alright for belated birthday celebrations, not fighting.

The Leo being feted is a long-time friend, something like almost 20 years, and one with whom I have much in common and with the rest, we complement one another magnificently

When she picked me up, she made sure I knew she'd gotten as far as her car before going back in the house to put on lipstick "because I was meeting Karen," according to her.

It's satisfying to know I can inspire friends to the heights of lipstick wearing for our dates.

Properly made up, we wiped the lipstick off our teeth and drove straight to Bistro Bobette where we found the door stuck closed, swollen the way doors do in the summertime.

Bartender Olivier was kind enough to push it open from the inside, revealing reservation signs on most of the tables but not a person in the restaurant other than staff.

We settled into a corner of the bar to catch up after a month and a half apart ("Never more than three weeks again!") with glasses of intensely pink and aromatic Chateau de Campuget Rose and more stories than we could possibly share in one evening.

Happily, we had the bar to ourselves so we could laugh hysterically and shriek over high points in the narrative without disturbing anyone else.

Back and forth we went - my beach week, her Massachusetts vacation, my hurricane story, her hoarder tale, my writing life, her dead car on the side of the road.

Breaking to eat something obscenely rich, we chose tonight's featured appetizer, a big, fat slab of pate en croute, a decadent combination of veal, rabbit, pistachios and foie gras in puff pastry with cornichons, apricot puree and gelee.

Bobette's pates are always out of this world and this one was no different, earthy and addictive, especially when paired with a vinegar or sweet complement.

My friend is a master storyteller (having graced Secretly Y'All, Tell Me a Story on several occasions) and tonight she had a couple of beauts, including one revolving around her health of late.

"So it's been kind of a tough summer what with having the plague and going blind," she deadpanned and we both laughed uproariously.

And while it's certainly one way to put it, the shame of it is that it's more or less true.

Meanwhile, three women arrived and took seats at the bar and I soon learned that the two younger ones were actresses in Meg Ryan's upcoming film "Ithaca" and the middle-aged one was the set director.

If there's anywhere I know I will reliably see/meet actors, directors and movie people, whetehr I want to or not, it's Bistro Bobette.

For that matter, a handsome young man appeared out of nowhere and threw his arms around my friend and he turned out to be a costume and wig designer from NYC down for the weekend.

On the way to the loo, Olivier asked where my usual beautiful tights were and I had to remind him it was bare leg season. Silly bartender, tights are for cold weather.

As part of the birthday business, I presented my friend, a fabulous cook and hostess, with a card and book - the tantalizing "When French Women Cook: A Gastronomic Memoir" - as a present, a nod to her having gifted m with "The Goldfinch" for my birthday.

That also turned out to be a jumping off point since she'd read "The Goldfinch" first and we'd both recently read some juicy criticism of the book.

You have no idea how much I enjoy dissecting a book with a friend, even more so when that friend was the one gave me the book with the caveat, "I know you don't usually read fiction, but I think you're going to love this."

The bottom line is this: is there any difference between a good read and literature?

History has proven that so many books we now consider classics were originally panned by critics as frivolous and with little redeeming value, only to become essential to subsequent generations.

Will the Pulitzer prize- winning "The Goldfinch" still be a must-read in 100 years? Hard to say and I guess I'll never know.

For dessert we chose chocolate mousse, deeply flavorful and with a mouthfeel that spoke to the quality ingredients used to make it, a fitting close to our belated birthday soiree.

Fully aware that we hadn't begun to cover all the ground we needed to, we spent the last of our evening together plotting a road trip for next week so we can be guaranteed a whole day to talk until we run out of stories and opinions.

Yea, like that'll ever happen.