The Middle of all the Karens

The best thing about European movies is not knowing what's next.

They mock us.

"You sound like an American. That's a bad sign."

They admire us.

"It's as if Liechtenstein were walking with the U.S."


They cook differently.

"I brought ratatouille. I cooked each vegetable separately."

They woo differently.

"I love your hair. I could go on holiday in your hair."

They end their movies differently.

"I am happy to sit in the middle of all the Nathalies and just hide."

The movie in question was French and at the Westhampton.

"Delicacy" was the story of how a man wooed a woman named Nathalie who didn't even realize she wanted to be wooed.

In simplest terms, anyway.

Oh sure, her husband died and she grieved and her boss hit on her and her friends worried about her.

All with great panache because she was French.

And eventually she initiates a kiss with a coworker and begins the slow descent out of her cocoon of the past.

The pleasure was in being treated like an intelligent audience, so we weren't shown everything.

Some things went unexplained and we put two and two together ourselves.

It wasn't difficult; it was an early show and we were a small but smart bunch.

Hell, when a character's Swedish parents visited, we didn't even get subtitles. What they were saying was irrelevant but we got the point of the scene.

How do you go back to your prior life once you've met that someone who changes everything?

Bonuses to seeing a movie full of nuances of behavior and thoughtful dialog?

Lots of things to discuss when you get to Beauregard's Thai Room and my favorite outdoor eating space in Richmond.

Case in point: a pot of purple Canterbury Bells next to our secluded table near the fountain.

Two colors of calla lilies behind us -mauve and white- and a night sky low overhead.

It wasn't France, but it didn't feel like Richmond, either.

Squid over salad with lime, red onions, coriander and chilies was followed by shrimp with baby corn, straw mushrooms and scallions.

Meanwhile our first server got distracted and forgot all about us, our second server did research for us on the date of the building, and the Thai dance music got suddenly loud enough to dance to.

Reason number two that Beauregard's gets points?

Their housemade ice creams. Trying to choose a flavor, humor won us over.

Banana walnut was described as "mainly banana; the walnuts impede gulping."

Who wouldn't have to taste that?

Just for good measure, we got a scoop of black walnut on top of the banana walnut and washed it down with a glass of Prosecco.

Sitting in the emptying garden was like being hidden away from the rest of the city on a warm night.

Gulp. It almost felt like the ending of a French movie.

But with only one Karen.

Quickie is in the Eye of the Beholder

It says something about what an oppressively hot summer it's been when an 80 degree day feels like autumn to me. So when a friend wanted to do a quickie lunch and told me to choose where, I tried to imagine what outdoor spot would be best suited for taking in this cloudy beautiful day. And in my opinion, there is no lovelier outdoor space than the walled garden at Beauregard's Thai Room.

It's a combination of things: those very old brick walls, the row of green shuttered windows above, the abundance of flowering plants and the koi pond burbling in the background. With the canopy of trees overhead, it is old-fashioned, and charming in the most southern way possible. What better place to eat spicy Thai food?

My friend was having a tough time making his decision, so I asked if he wanted to see today's specials menu since we'd only gotten one. Taking it from me, he remarked, "Can't be too special if the menu is laminated." An obvious enough observation, but I laughed out loud, causing the man dining alone nearby to smile at me.

It didn't stop me from ordering off of it, either. I got the Lan-Na Lad-Na because it was said to be the national dish of Thailand. A combination of sticky Thai-style wide noodles, stir-fried chicken, broccoli and onions in a thin brown gravy, it was served in an oblong bowl-like dish that could have held an ear of corn perfectly.

My friend, a Thai food lover who has been known to occasionally order the half pound burger there, got the shrimp soup and fried calamari with salsa forte; he loved the clear spicy dipping sauce and ate every piece of that traditional Thai dish, fried calamari (yes, I'm making fun of him).

He'd also raved to me about the house made black walnut ice cream so we decided to finish with that. But when the waitress came with the dessert menu, she warned us that their ice cream maker was in Thailand, so they only had two flavors left today. "But he promised me," I told her. Fortunately one of them was black walnut and we each ate most of a dish before giving up.

As the garden gradually emptied out, we sat there enjoying our surroundings and having anything but a quickie lunch. He wanted to hear about my recent adventures; he's one of the friends I have who refuses to read my blog because he likes hearing my adventures out loud.

Honestly, I think he just likes having the immediate satisfaction of being able to tease me about the random stuff that happens to me, which he does mercilessly. But if I can go on and on when I write, I'm even worse when I do my storytelling out loud.

Ergo, a quickie is not to be expected if you're going to get me talking. But he knows that; quickie just means we have to come in under two hours and we did (by five minutes).

And that was with him giving me a hard time about just the past six days.