Monday, Monday, Can't Trust That Day

We could call this chapter "Tales of a Misspent Monday" and leave it at that.

In my defense, I worked way more of the weekend than usual and from the moment I got up until early afternoon today.

So when my lunch date e-mailed me sounding desperate ("Come now...! FAST!"), what could I do but change into a lunch dress and go fetch him?

Fast!

So we set out for Arcadia, found it closed and settled on M Bistro, a place I hadn't been in a couple of years.

We arrived toward the end of lunch, but the cool, masculine-looking interior and eager-beaver young server welcomed us in.

If I could have, I would have carded him.

Our first choice for wine was a 2011 Louis Jadot Macon Villages chardonnay, but they were out of it and our tender server suggested that the Kendall Jackson Vintners' Reserve chardonnay was "just the same."

Well, except that both friend and I knew that the French wine is unoaked while the Californian definitely finishes with oak.

We got it anyway. It's just afternoon wine.

Last time I'd been in, I'd been quite happy with my lobster roll, so I ordered it again (despite the change to it being billed as lobster and crab salad on a "rustic roll," whatever that might be) while Friend tried a crabacake over tomato salad.

What arrived looked nothing like the lobster roll of M's early days...or anything seen in New England.

The roll was round and dusted with flour and the filling was mostly crab with only incidental pieces of lobster claw meat.

Harrumph.

Pushing the flour-dusted roll aside, I begrudgingly ate the crab/lobster salad while my friend noted, "You don't like it, do you?"

It just wasn't anything like a true New England lobster roll anymore.

On the plus side, Friend said his crabcake salad was excellent and he plowed through it while telling me about his recent vacation in Philly.

Now, I've only been in Philly four times in the past eight years, so I'm no expert, but I do know I've enjoyed eating, walking and seeing all the art when I have been there, so I was eager to hear his stories.

$24 drinks, nine hour stints in the art museum, and 100 miles of walking told me everything I needed to know about their sojourn.

All he wanted in return was an update on my personal life (while giving running commentary, natch) so I obliged.

Needless to say, we ended up being the last lunch customers of the day, although Friend did take the time to teach the newbie server how to properly open a bottle of wine.

Somebody's got to teach the youth of today tomorrow's wine-pourers.

While debating the finer points of my life, we got a slice of lemon/coconut pie with strawberry coulis to help pass the time.

Now here's where the afternoon took a turn for the indulgent.

Coming back into town from Rockett's Landing, Friend suggested a stop at the Jefferson for an afternoon cap(?).

If there isn't such a thing, we were open to creating it.

We landed at TJ's, which was empty of any human life except a server, and here we finally got glasses of the un-oaked Macon Villages we'd been denied earlier.

In my never-ending quest to derail the best intentions of my friends, I suggested getting the Chesapeake dip (ham, crab, artichoke hearts in a creamy Gouda dip), knowing  my companion doesn't eat pork.

He waved off my concerns, assuring me if he can't see the ham, he's fine with it.

Now there's a man with religious convictions.

Promptly at 4, our server informed us that TJ's was closing, necessitating a trip upstairs to Lemaire if we wanted to continue our conversation.

We did.

I wanted to hear about his business plans, he wanted to hear about my gallivanting, so we climbed the grand staircase to finish our talking.

Midway through our conversation and his Cosmo (some of us were opting out by that point), his boss called and I took the phone to provide the alibi for why he'd been "detained."

I didn't even try to make up a story, opting instead for the bald-faced truth.

And while I don't know that I convinced the boss of the worthiness of our afternoon's endeavor, he at least accepted that Friend had needed some away time.

Sometimes you just gotta stand up to the big guy.

After dropping him off, I came home to find that no one desperately needed me and none of my hoped-for responses had arrived, so I was free and clear to continue my debauched Monday.

After a respite to gather my forces, I headed up the big hill to the Roosevelt to take advantage of their new Monday hours.

I'd heard they'd been slammed last Monday, but by the late hour I arrived, things were positively civilized.

I sat down next to two guys at the bar who were gracious enough to welcome me into the fold.

When the bartender brought my water, I requested a straw and he returned with one, the kind that bends to make straw-sipping so much more ergonomic.

"Wow, bendy straws and Cheerwine, that's the Roosevelt for you," one of the guys drolly observed with a smile.

I feel like that's a left-handed compliment of the highest order since there are many ways I could summarize the Roosevelt, but none so charmingly succinct.

I started with the oyster, corn and bacon stew, a gut-filling bowl of the richest stew full of sweet corn, salty bacon and buttery oysters.

Given the afternoon I'd had, it was clear my Richmond grandmother had been right with her predictions and I was going straight to hell in a hand basket.

Honestly, it's probably the first time in my life I ate an entire bowl of oyster stew by myself.

Just to ensure that my arteries close up entirely tonight, I followed that with one of tonight's specials, pulled pork under cole slaw and over house baked beans.

It was like a picnic on a plate but a picnic for two and I was, alas, just one.

As I worked my pig down, I overheard the guys next to me and gleaned that they were about to open a new business.

Never shy about my eavesdropping, I listened as they talked with a couple who'd joined them about the "wild, wild west days of Oregon Hill" and living in Jackson Ward back when fathers who were cops told their daughters not to.

That was before I moved here seven years ago, not that my father (who was not a cop) didn't approve of me moving to the neighborhood where his father worked his entire life (the Richmond Dairy, three blocks away).

Eventually, I insinuated myself into their conversation with the couple and soon learned that congratulations were in order.

After three and a half years of plugging away in Church Hill, the two guys are opening a brewery in Scott's Addition and they'd gotten the approval today.

That was something to celebrate and we toasted their success with my Gabriele Rausse Vin de Gris and whatever beer they were drinking (not their own).

Now that's a couple of guys who are going places.

No doubt they spend their afternoons more gainfully occupied than some of us.

Bravo, gents. To each his own.

No Suit Required

My first choice would have been an al fresco lunch, but my lawyer friend wanted a proper sit down affair.

So we ended up at a very full TJ's at a window table with a view of Main Street with business types and serious-looking women in suits.

We were neither in our summery clothes.

We'd planned to start with the grilled SausageCraft lamb sausage, but the kitchen hit a snag and to make it up to us, sent out two cups of today's soup, a potato leek with crispy leeks and thick-cut bacon.

It not only coated the spoon, but no doubt our arteries, too, with its decadent richness.

Just as we were sitting back in our wingback chairs to digest that, the lamb arrived.

It was my friend's first SausageCraft so I got to enjoy his reaction to tasting its spiced meatiness along with a parsnip pear puree, sauteed spinach and veal demi-glace.

I think I saw his eyes glaze over in pleasure. Not that I didn't enjoy it just as much, but I at least knew what to expect.

For lunch, I had the jumbo lump crabcake sandwich, mainly to see how good a crabcake it was.

My Maryland childhood makes me a crabcake snob of the highest order and this one was good. Not backfin good, but decent.

Probably good enough to impress an out-of-town hotel guest. Unless he was from Maryland.

Friend had the hearts of romaine salad and was so impressed with the generous serving of Italian white anchovies that he vowed to get a side order of them alone next time, completely bypassing the salad portion of the dish.

As he likes to point out, they're one of the very few things actually better from a can.


Over a leisurely lunch, we chatted about the alienation of Republican women, the way the cost of a dim sum meal escalates quickly and how live-in partners have different refrigerator standards.

Some people, he pointed out, save every little bit of leftovers while some of us only keep them when there's enough for another meal. To each his own.


Since we'd forsaken the beautiful day to eat inside, it seemed only fitting to finish with that most summer-like of desserts, ice cream.

A house made butter pecan (no doubt  Southern enough to charm even the most Northern of guests) came in a bowl deep enough to hold far more ice cream than any two people needed.

Like the soup, it was spoon-coatingly creamy and so chock full of pecans that they showed up in every bite, which is a very good thing.

Had we been eating at home, there wouldn't have been even the tiniest bit of leftovers to put in the refrigerator. no matter what a person's standards were.

Anyway, it's all negotiable when you're lunching with a lawyer.

Stealth Bartering at Lemaire

Having seen Lewis Ginter's mausoleum this afternoon, it seemed only appropriate that I wile away the evening at the hotel he built here.

A friend messaged me this afternoon suggesting we have cocktails at Lemaire and discuss some bartering.

What kind of unemployed fool says no to that?

I've been hanging out intermittently at the Jefferson since 1992, when the radio station I worked for started doing a weekly promotion there.

I know the place and I feel comfortable there. And still, some things never change.

Like knowing that there will always be a wicker basket full of tastefully-arranged female products in the ladies' rooms.

That every member of the staff who lays eyes on me will greet me.

What I didn't expect was being taken for a local while I was there.

An elderly trio coming down the grand staircase stopped me and asked where TJ's was.

I pointed to it and they asked for more specific directions, which I provided, all the while wondering why they hadn't taken me for just another hotel guest.

Am I starting to look like a Richmonder or what?

I met my friend upstairs, where I got a simple iced 1800 and she got the Garden Gibson (all I know about it was what I could see: thyme, cucumber and a salt rim).

Our handsome bartender said that although it's not currently on the cocktail menu, it will be for summer; no doubt it will be a hit with its bracing gin coolness.

Her response upon tasting it was, "I like herbaceous!"

Although the purported purpose of our get-together was business-related, we had to initially cover a lot of other bases.

It's tough to focus on work without first discussing relationships, smart women and restaurant goings-on.

She told me about all the changes for the good going on at the Boathouse; it'll be interesting to see what Jimmy Sneed and his hand-picked crew can do to whip that place into a worthy destination instead of a chain clone.

Let's face it, any menu with the word "colossal" on it needs to be revamped.

We gabbed so long that eventually lights went off in adjoining rooms and the gate to Lemaire was closed.

They left just enough staff for the two of us (unbelievably, that would be three people) so we kept going and finally moved on to her business at hand.

She told me what she needed done, I got an idea of the scale of the project and how she envisions it turning out; happily, taking care of business took only fifteen minutes of the three hours we chatted.

Then it was on to the job site for a midnight visit to consider light levels (too dim? too glaring?), marvel at window heights, admire materials and praise the ReStore. 

I even got to peruse the menus-in-progress and saw all kinds of things I'll want to try.

Let's just say she had me at caramel and sea salt.

I think I'm really going to like this barter business.

Eating on the Cheap at TJ's

One of my favorite friends suggested grabbing a bite at TJ's tonight and, really, what could be a better way to spend the last night of the long Christmas weekend than with a fellow food and wine lover I hadn't seen in a couple of weeks?

We got an early start, arriving at the Jefferson around 6 ready to talk and eat.

Neither of us had anticipated the large number of people lounging around the lobby and eating and drinking at Lemaire and TJ's tonight.

We began upstairs at Lemaire, sharing a quartino of Dolcetto d'Alba DOC Ada Nada from Piedmont while noshing on a tray of excellent olives and peanuts.

Heading downstairs, we discovered that TJ's had not a single open table in its dining room, but we were happy to eat in the bar area just off the rotunda.

We settled into a two-top and eagerly opened our menus.

The menu was a revelation; everything listed under appetizers and salads was priced at either $6 or $7, making TJ's one of the most affordable places to eat well that I know of.

I began with the seasonal soup, a cannellini bean with ham and Parmesan pureed into a thick and creamy consistency; it was a large bowl and extremely filling.

I followed that with Cornbread and Surry Sausage-Stuffed Quail with Granny Smith apples, Swiss chard and Herbed Gnocchi in Balsamic Jus.

If you think this sounds like a full meal for $13, you'd be correct.

The stuffing and quail were perfectly delicious and an ample serving to boot.

My friend had the Frisee and Granny Smith apple salad with Duck Confit after the Garlic-Roasted Burgundy Escargots over Parmesan Risotto, mushrooms, shallots and parsley.

The risotto was perfectly cooked and seasoned (and somebody else did all that stirring).

She upped the ante with a soul-satisfying side of the Swiss Chard with poached Bing Cherries.

Her meal topped out at a whopping $17 and she found it to be more than enough.

We continued to share quartinos, first a Pinot Noir, followed by a Temperanillo.

We're both big fans of the quartino, allowing as it does a generous enough pour to share.

We like to enjoy a variety of wines during a meal and the quartino allows moving from grape to grape economically throughout a meal.

What could be better?

Service was friendly and attentive and we were not rushed as we meandered through course after course and lingered over wine afterwards.

 TJ's was clearly the destination of choice for a whole lot of people tonight and it was clear by the end of our meal why.

An inexpensive meal in a grand setting is an appealing way to finish a holiday weekend, whether it has been a joyous or bittersweet one.

I'm hoping next year's will be more the former than the latter.

Delightful Dinner at T.J.'s

I was a Restaurant Week virgin and damn proud of it. I lost that virginity tonight at the request of a friend who made a convincing argument to give it a try. So we ended up at TJ's to see what $25.09 would get us at the recently reopened restaurant...besides. of course, a $2.09 donation to the Central Virginia Food Bank.

There was no shortage of choices: three first course options, three second course and two dessert. I started with the loaded potato soup (bacon, blue cheese, scallions over creamy potato soup) and my friend had the P.E.I. mussels in tomato, garlic and coconut broth. I liked mine better, but hers was very good, too.

To our surprise, the server then arrived with a gift from the kitchen: a radicchio and frisee salad with duck confit, dressed in a lovely, nutty olive oil as the base of the vinaigrette. It would have been quite nice had we paid for it; as a bonus course, it was downright delicious.

For my entree, I chose the grass-fed beef meatloaf wrapped with bacon, over mashed sweet potatoes, with Brussels sprouts, bacon and port wine. Are you noticing how I managed to incorporate bacon into absolutely everything I ordered tonight? I'm no fool. The bacon infused the ground beef with a delicious flavor, and the portion was enormous. My friend had the herb-roasted pork rib eye with country grits, cider-braised cabbage and natural jus with golden raisins. The two pieces of pig were huge, thick cut and cooked perfectly.

To finish, I got the Nutella creme brulee and she got the roasted pumpkin bread pudding with ice cream. Neither of us had enough room left to make a dent in either one, but not because they weren't appealing. For the record, we did try; we'd just had so much food by then. And wine: my choice was the 2008 Crios de Susan Balbo Malbec from Argentina.

Perhaps because TJ's has only lately reopened, the place was barely half full when we arrived around 8:30. Our server said they are very much anticipating the rest of Restaurant Week as an opportunity to introduce their new menu to the public.

And, with the exception of the Loud Talker and her friends at the back table, my Restaurant Week experience wasn't nearly as dreadful as I had expected. As they say, bacon makes everything better.