Dinner with a Kiwi

Few subject lines make my blood run cold like "I know how you felt 2 years ago," which showed up in my inbox today. I wouldn't want my worst enemy to know how I felt two years ago, much less a close friend.

Fortunately, that subject line referred only to my friend getting laid off and while that's plenty to deal with, it's only a fraction of what I was dealt back then, here.

But it's still enough to process that I offered to meet up with him and be an ear and that's how we found ourselves the only customers at Secco late this afternoon.

And Secco was a lovely place to be with that winter weather-threatening sky all around us and our lit candle for ambiance and pseudo-warmth. It was downright cozy.

He told me how it went down and we compared that to my experience. We discussed his future possibilities and how bad events eventually deliver good things (I'm proof of that). He insisted that he was not devastated by it and seemed to be sincere.

On the plus side, he'd already observed that being laid off meant people wanted to buy him drinks, and he was liking that part of all this. I reminded him that now he could stay up as late as he wanted, also a good thing.

Before we knew it, a couple of hours had passed and we both had plans to move on to.

Mine involved a friend who'd invited me to a Clos du Bois wine dinner for four at the Berkeley Hotel with the wine rep and the winemaker, a charming New Zealander who now lives and works in the Alexander Valley.

We began with a couple of social hours with the dining room's manger, sipping Clos du Bois' Reserve Merlot and Marlstone, two outstanding reds that kept the conversation focused on wine and winemaking...except when we were discussing rugby, soccer and Legend brown ale (a brewing mistake, I learned tonight).

The bacon-wrapped housemade country pate and crostini that arrived during our conversation was stellar and the fact that it was served warm noted. The warmth brought out the earthy flavors in the best possible way, causing my friend and I to wonder why pate isn't served warm more often.

We had the pleasure of being joined by Hall of Famer Willy Lanier, who sat down and stole the spotlight while sharing some wine with us.

We had a particularly interesting discussion with him of Bill and Hillary's relationship dynamic and considered at what point it became acceptable to flash one's thong in the Oval Office. Did we just have to wait for the thong to be invented or was it a generational thing?

When our football great of a guest departed, the four of us made our way to the table for dinner, sitting boy/girl/boy/girl for mixing purposes. Our server was a neighbor of mine ("Hey, I know you!"), making for excellent Jackson Ward representation in the room.

After the intense satisfaction of all those bottles of Clos du Bois, we came back to earth with a bottle of Wild Hog Zinfandel to enjoy with our meal. We kicked things off with an amuse bouche of shrimp fritters, then I had the wedge salad. It was followed by the rabbit stew with a spiced pear sorbet arriving in between it and the wedge.

The rabbit stew had a cheese-topped biscuit floating on its sea of veggies and tender, braised rabbit. I couldn't have imagined a better meal for a damp, cold night like the one just outside the windows of the dining room. Sorry, Thumper.

Considering our unlikely group, we had a fascinating night of conversation, ranging from the difference between a state and a Commonwealth (quick, do you know?), how corking decisions are made and the particulars of our local delicacy, Brunswick Stew. No surprise that squirrel talk followed.

Naturally, I had to talk music with the winemaker (causing my friend to say, "I stay out of it when she starts talking music"). The only New Zealanders I could think of were the Finn brothers (whom he'd seen with Eddie Vedder) but he schooled me in some less well-known NZ bands to check out.

I stayed out of the marmite versus Vegemite discussion, but took his recommendation that it's a taste best acquired in childhood. Looks like I missed my chance.

For me it was fortunate that I hadn't missed my chance to spend the evening with my first New Zealand native, a guy who actually said, "When I got out of university I had three career choices: beer, wine or cheese." Luckily for the wine world, the hophead chose the grape.

When our marathon wine party ended, my friend suggested a stop at Comfort for a nightcap. But the gentlemen had to be up and on the road to DC at 7:30 a.m., so we soldiered on without them.

Walking into Comfort, bartender Greg looked at us suspiciously and asked, "What have you been up to?"

Tonight there were a lot of interesting answers to that question. I settled for "Drinking good wine" but that didn't begin to cover what a satisfying night it had been.

A Comfort Lunch with the Employed

Today was laid-off lunch at Comfort, which meant my friend and I got together to commiserate about the pleasures and perils of being unemployed and unattached. She had been surprised by the Inverse Automotive Repair rule, with which I was well familiar. Your car can be reliable and trouble free for years, but once you lose your job, it will slowly start to reveal its growing problems. My car has been in the shop a half a dozen times in the year I have been laid off, more than the five years beforehand combined. Hers just recently started showing its weaknesses for which she was completely unprepared. I tried to be reassuring, but apparently cars just know the worst time to require service.

On the other hand, my friend was all aglow about the quantum leap her love life has taken during the same period. Seems that an old friend who for years had been inordinately fond of her finally got around to making his move, resulting in a fast-forward start to an extremely promising relationship. Only about six weeks in and they were already marveling at their compatibility and comfort level with each other. She even guiltily admitted to having hopes of something long-term with this guy and judging by the perpetual grin on her face, he seems to be making her incredibly happy already. I could relate.

We did a mock day-after-Thanksgiving sort of leftover lunch, she with the roasted turkey sandwich and me with the ham sandwich (hot, with Swiss and spicy Bourbon orange spread). She went with mashed potatoes for her side, which I completely understand, but my leftover- day sandwiches require chips and Comfort's homemade chips are terrific.

It was definitely a Friday lunch crowd, with our fellow bar sitters enjoying mixed drinks, mimosas and beer, possibly to kick off the weekend, possibly to get through the afternoon at work. No doubt you can guess which it was for us.

Recession Dinner at Bin 22

There are many things one can do to assuage loss; eating and drinking have got to be two of the most common. That may explain how my recently laid-off friend and I found ourselves at Bin 22 this evening for their cheap date night. We even held hands while we placed our order to convince our waitress we were in the mood for a romantic dinner for two; okay, we cracked up all the while, but we made the attempt.

I'm sure you know the deal; for $40 you get a bottle of wine (Entrada Cabernet Sauvignon), a choice of soup or salad (we took the mixed green salad), pasta (we had the penne with chunky house made tomato sauce, basil , Pecorino and thick-sliced Belmont Butchery pork sausage. Oh, my god, such amazing pig!) and, for dessert, the ice cream sandwich made with brownies. The meal was truly lovely from start to finish, but that sausage was to die for and we found our Argentinian wine to be exactly what our red wine-starved hearts were calling for.

As a veteran of laid off longevity, it was my mission to convince my recently unemployed friend that life will go on despite her current feelings to the contrary. She's still working through anger and fear of the future, two obstacles I worked through months ago. She's got plenty of marketable skills, so I have high hopes for her re-employment, but she's understandably a bit less confident.

On top of all that, there are, of course, male issues so I offered my take on that side of her life, as she did mine. I'm a great example of "come on, how much worse can things get?" so reminding her to keep a stiff upper lip was second nature. On the plus side, discussing the mess that our lives are provided the evening's entertainment and there's a lot to be said for laughing in the face of adversity while Elvis Costello plays in the background.

Not to mention, a great deal of a meal for those of us on laid-off budgets. Bin 22 provided a hearty dinner we could afford without feeling like we were settling for the sake of saving. I would think even the employed could get into that.

Mekong Soothes the Unemployed Soul

I heard from yet another friend that she'd been laid off, joining the ever-growing group of us among the unemployed masses. She's the first of my friends in the restaurant business to bite the dust, though, so it was a bit more surprising. She's got an outstanding skill set, though, so I expect she'll have faster luck getting rehired than me. She's understandably nervous at the moment; I guess only time will tell.

We met up last night at Mekong to commiserate about the unfairness of life, the coldness of our former employers and other borderline whiny topics. But the complaining quickly gave way to appreciation for excellent beer and food; I won't bore you with all we ordered (there were six of us) but we had a great selection of beef, pork, chicken and tofu dishes and way too much food to finish. The beer, however, was a different story.

Because so many of the women in the group worked in restaurants, there was loads of gossip and storytelling, some new to me (Enoteca Sogno closing, for example), some confirming previously-held assumptions. Every single person at the table has a mate or close friend who has lost hours or even their job altogether. We all agreed that the absolute worst may be over, but it will take a while to climb out of this very deep recessionary hole we seem to be in.

Until then, luckily there's places like Mekong with big tables, plenty of libations and really good food to distract us from the problems of the real world. And then there's my fortune cookie prediction: If you have a job without aggravations, you don't have a job.

You could substitute a number of other words for "job" and the sentiment would be just as true.

The Layoff Killed Him

"Matt's dead," the e-mail said.

Matt used to be my brother-in-law, but he was my friend before he ever met or married my sister. Back in the '70s, I lived in a group house with him and two other guys and we threw parties, bantered endlessly and left each other scribblings on a white board.

I hadn't seen him in forever.

The last I had heard of him was about a year ago when he got laid off from a company he'd worked for since he was in his 20s. A company where all his close friends worked. After being laid off, he wouldn't return his friends' calls.

The only person he'd talk to was his sister in New England and when he stopped answering her calls last week, she got worried.

Sure enough, when they entered his house, he was dead on the couch.

Now, Matt had his vices: he always drank too much, smoked way too many cigarettes and had two completely different-sized wardrobes to accommodate his eating compulsions and major weight shifts. In time, any of these habits could have been fatal.

But realistically, we all know that it was being laid off that sent Matt over the edge. He was a victim of the recession, sure as if he'd jumped out a window. It's enough to make your heart hurt..

I Used My Best Phone Voice, Too

What better use of my unemployed time could I make than volunteering?

With that in mind, I spent 3 hours today at WRIR (93.1) as a phone volunteer for their fund drive. I'm pleased to say I took three pledges, 2 messages for the staff and l long-winded call from a woman wanting to know why her radio couldn't hold the signal for 105 point something.

I guess she thought all the radio stations are in cahoots and know what's up with each other...or something.

There were a couple other volunteers there when I arrived and, lo and behold, they were both unemployed too. One guy had just been laid off after 34 years with the same company. 34 years! He started that job part-time in high school! It's the only thing he's ever done and now he's got to find another job at 53. He wasn't optimistic but at least he had 6 months of severance pay to tide him over while he looks.

The other guy was 28 and desperately seeking work. Just while I was there, he filled out online applications for 3 different jobs. He said he always followed up submitting applications with calling the company. Daily. Finally one woman told him that she was tired of hearing his voice and not to call anymore.

Employment etiquette aside, I don't think he helped his job chances any.

While I was there, a former neighbor came in to make a pledge; turns out he's unemployed also. I was beginning to feel like I was in the Laid Off Twilight Zone, so it was particularly gratifying when a girl came in with her laptop to do some work for her part-time job. Finally! Someone in the room with gainful employment...maybe I should touch her for good luck?

What I learned today: Even in the tough times, people are still giving of their time and limited funds for the worthwhile causes.

And WRIR, you know, "radio for the rest of us," is surely that.