Pilgrim's Progress

Do I think our forefathers took seven hours to eat a meal?

No, but I don't think their meal began with a Kir Royale, either.

Amour was doing a dinner of Thanksgiving flavors from Virginia and pairing a French wine and a Virginia wine with each course.

One long table, beautifully set, a group of mostly strangers who ended up being friendly enough to make it a party by the end, and a congenial host who made a game of which wine was which.

I had a blast.

The first course was scallop and chestnut-wrapped  in bacon with a flat leaf parsley vinaigrette, paired with Jefferson Vineyards Pinot Gris and Fritsch Pinot Gris.

Almost everyone was surprised that the sweeter wine was the Alsatian.

For the endive salad with walnuts, duck cracklings and beet vinaigrette, we savored Boxwood Estate Topiary Rose, a personal favorite, and Perle de Roseline Rose, which was even lovelier.

The most creative course was the next, a Pilgrim's Purse, Amour's take on a beggar's purse.

The filling had lobster and cream and although we were told to just bite into it, most of us used a utensil to prevent cream from running down our chins.

Our main course surely beat anything the Pilgrims (or those at Berkeley Plantation, the real first Thanksgiving) enjoyed all those years ago.

Roast breast of pheasant and duck with balsamic cranberry and rosemary glaze was served with spoon bread and roasted root veggies.

Spoon bread was a staple of my childhood thanks to my Richmond grandmother, but I rarely get it anymore, so that was a real treat.

Domaine de Rothschild and Boxwood Estate "Boxwood" fought it out with this course and both were excellent.

I'd probably give the edge to the Boxwood, a blend of Cab Sauvignion, Merlot and Petit Verdot, just to represent.

By this course, there were no longer any strangers at the table and meat was moving from the plates of people who were full to those who still had room (read: guys).

Next came Virginia cheeses with autumn fruit compote and I'd go with the Grayson as my favorite; its sheer beefy stinkiness reminds me of a version of our very own Virginia Taleggio.

With the cheeses we had Domaine Ricard Le Vilain p'tit Rouge and White Hall Vineyards Monticello.

By this time, we were toasting our new acquaintance, the birthday girl.

We finished up our gluttony with a seasonal trio of desserts: spiced pumpkin mousse, apple sorbet with sage-honey drizzle and a chocolate pecan barquette.

Perhaps in a nod to our host's Alsatian roots, we got our bubbles on with Lucien Albrecht Blanc de Blanc and from the Old Dominion, what else but Thibault Janisson Virginia Fizz?

By that point, one girl was shooting video of the merriment at the table.

John the magician had set up shop outside and the females among the group went out there to be entertained with tricks while the male contingent stayed put.

In another time, I suppose they would have been smoking cigars while we retired to the drawing room.

When we came back in one by one, someone looked at the time only to discover that we were now at the seven-hour point for this meal.

In the interest of blood circulation and allowing owner Paul to finally close his restaurant on a day he's not even typically open, we began to leave.

And with the misguided logic of people replete with terrific food and wine, we went directly to Secco for more good wine.

Our group was small enough by that point to take over the couches and lounge (I'm not sure we were capable of much more) whilst enjoying Pierre Paillard Brut (chosen by the wine geek among us) and the Marrugat Cava Brut because the birthday girl wanted it.

When the remaining lot of us headed out on to Cary Street, it was way past midnight but the temperate air made for nice strolling weather.

One by one, we peeled off to our cars, cabs and the walker to his neighborhood.

I have no doubt that every one of us was thankful for so much good food and wine, and unlike our forefathers, enjoyed with no threat of hostile native interference.

Ha! Only because Sweet Frogs was closed by then.