Long before I realized what tonight was, a friend had suggested getting together this evening, which worked out really well for me when I got invited to a Superbowl party. Love to; sorry, busy.
Her original suggestion had been to go to Cafe Caturra and sit by the fire, but by the time I got to her house, she was craving a steak and rethinking that plan.
I was willing to go someplace else, but held fast to my only requirement: no TVs. She desperately called Buckhead's (private event), Fleming's (TVs at the bar), Azurro and Bacchus (closed) and Morton's before giving up. Cafe Caturra it was after all.
It turned out to be just what we could have hoped for. Our perky server immediately informed us of the Superbowl specials, probably the last thing we expected at a wine bar.
All wines by the glass were $5, all appetizers $4 and if we both bought a glass of wine (duh; what do you think we're here for?), we also got a free appetizer. Most importantly, as our server said, "I love coming to work here tonight cause there's no TVs!" Amen, sister.
I decided on the Morgadio "Legado del Conde" Albarino now that it no longer had its $9.75 a glass price tag. The wingback chairs in front of the fireplace were being vacated just as our wine was being poured, so we appropriated them.
It wasn't long before a staff member came over to rebuild the fire for us. Then the braised short ribs, caramelized onion and Gorgonzola cheese crostini arrived. Wine, check. Fire, check, Food, check. Super what?
The crostini were difficult to eat because the short ribs were piled so high that there was no ladylike way to bite them and shoving the whole thing in our mouths resulted in chipmunk cheeks. We managed for the sake of that trio of flavors, though.
We followed with the least Superbowl-like thing we could possibly order: salads. Mine was a mixture of chopped Romaine with dried cranberries, toasted walnuts, and Gorgonzola in a raspberry-walnut vinaigrette (which left the oddest color tinge on the greens, but tasted great).
Not knowing whom to expect, we were pleased that we weren't the only football refugees. There were a half dozen couples, several female duos, two guys deep in business talk and working on a computer the entire evening (at least they were imbibing) and a family with a toddler and baby.
The music was pure baby boomer, with a strong emphasis on 60s and 70s rhythm and blues: Al Green, Jackson Five, Bill Withers, Temptations, O'Jays. We had to laugh when the baby got to squalling because the music's volume was immediately raised in an attempt to drown him out.
Since we hadn't seen each other in a few weeks, we did the girl talk thing, me with my recent forays into meeting guys and she with her tales of her new relationship.
Even with some of my more amusing anecdotes and filling her in on some of the most interesting people I've met (she wants to call them PMs, for practice men), neither of us could compete with the story she'd recently heard from a friend in California about her love life adventures.
Let's just say I'd never heard of making love while you're on a conference call, even if the mute button was on. I'd even say I was a tad envious, except that I don't want to be on a conference call, with or without the extracurricular activity.
Our server seemed surprised at our staying power because we'd arrived before kickoff, but with the roaring fire and the deal on wine, it made no sense to go anywhere. Hell, after a while, the fire stoker knew us by name and we him; he seemed to enjoy the audience.
Periodically our server would come by and ask if we wanted more wine, her tone clearly anticipating that we'd decline, except that we always accepted. No doubt she was regretting ever telling us about the Superbowl specials.
As opposed to my friend and I, who didn't have a single regret between us about how we'd spent the big game night. Go, team.
Showing posts with label short ribs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short ribs. Show all posts
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Rx: Stronghill Dining Co.and Theater
When I was discharged from the hospital last night, it was with prescriptions for steroids, breathing treatments and antibiotics.
But what I really needed was a fattening dinner out and some culture to make up for missing that reading at VMFA last night.
Treating the physical is required, but treating the spirit is just as essential.
The evening began at Stronghill where I enjoyed the Wedge Salad with blue cheese and bacon, followed by coffee-braised short ribs over foccacia with apple-smoked Gouda sauce.
Particularly worthy of mention is that the foccacia was fried, so it was a thin, crispy crust around a soft almost potato-like interior about two inches thick.
While it was like no foccacia I've ever had (btw, one of my absolute favorite breads), it was divine.
During their 5:30-7:30 happy hour, all wines under $9 a glass are a flat $5, so I went Sicilian with the Villa Pozzi Nero d'Avola and later, the chocolate mousse.
I told the bartender I had theater plans and she presumed I meant the Bowtie Cinema, so I explained that I was on my way to Pine Camp to see Henley Street Theater Company do A Servant of Two Masters (and for preview night, so it was only ten bucks!), which led to discussion of how she loves theater and never makes the time for it.
Her best friend is a director and playwright; she had all kinds of theater friends who nag her about not attending and still she doesn't go. But she misses seeing live theater.
We talked about the upcoming run of Wicked, which I'd seen three years ago in Baltimore and she'd never seen, how she's never been to Agecroft for Richmond Shakespeare Company, how the last thing she saw was at Theater VCU, so at least there was that.
We discussed Tom Stoppard, for goodness' sake!
I might have given her a bit of crap about her laziness in not doing something she clearly loves, resulting in her finally saying, "When I get home I'm, going to call my girlfriend and insist we see a play soon. And then she's going to give me shit for listening to a convincing stranger and not her all these years."
A server interjected with, "Sometimes you need to hear it from the outside to actually pay attention."
But she did thank me for the theater pep talk.
I also got into an enthusiastic discussion of Honeybells with another server, but unless you've had one, there's no describing them, so we'll just end that there.
Let's just say we shared the same opinion.
A Servant of Two Masters was written in the eighteenth century by Italian Carlo Goldoni, but the themes of a character evolving, hunger for love (and food) and the differences in generations are timeless.
It's a commedia dell' arte, partly scripted and partly improvised and has lots of physical humor, including breaking wind, breast-ogling, spanking and good old slapstick.
Despite being 300+ years old, the play's language has been adapted and should not put off those uncomfortable with the likes of Shakespearean verse. It's nothing like that. Don't believe me?
Love is our sickness and men the only medicine.
The patient is ready to be given her medicine.
Love makes one do remarkable things.
Everyone else is getting a happy ending. (followed by the servant's saddest face).
Not too tough, huh?
So much of the dialogue is laugh-out-loud funny and the clearly defined characters in their magnificent costumes are each delightful in their own way.
The main character, the servant Truffaldino (played by Richard Koch), with his malleable face, quick quips and physical agility, is hard to take your eyes off of.
A night of hilarity was just what the doctor ordered, my internal doctor that is.
The theme of hunger for food and love didn't hurt its appeal any, either.
I'd have to say that it was ten dollars well spent, so, if like the bartender at Stronghill, you're overdue for some theater, you could do a lot worse and spend a lot more than this rollicking good time.
And it's so satisfying to see everyone end up with their true love.
But what I really needed was a fattening dinner out and some culture to make up for missing that reading at VMFA last night.
Treating the physical is required, but treating the spirit is just as essential.
The evening began at Stronghill where I enjoyed the Wedge Salad with blue cheese and bacon, followed by coffee-braised short ribs over foccacia with apple-smoked Gouda sauce.
Particularly worthy of mention is that the foccacia was fried, so it was a thin, crispy crust around a soft almost potato-like interior about two inches thick.
While it was like no foccacia I've ever had (btw, one of my absolute favorite breads), it was divine.
During their 5:30-7:30 happy hour, all wines under $9 a glass are a flat $5, so I went Sicilian with the Villa Pozzi Nero d'Avola and later, the chocolate mousse.
I told the bartender I had theater plans and she presumed I meant the Bowtie Cinema, so I explained that I was on my way to Pine Camp to see Henley Street Theater Company do A Servant of Two Masters (and for preview night, so it was only ten bucks!), which led to discussion of how she loves theater and never makes the time for it.
Her best friend is a director and playwright; she had all kinds of theater friends who nag her about not attending and still she doesn't go. But she misses seeing live theater.
We talked about the upcoming run of Wicked, which I'd seen three years ago in Baltimore and she'd never seen, how she's never been to Agecroft for Richmond Shakespeare Company, how the last thing she saw was at Theater VCU, so at least there was that.
We discussed Tom Stoppard, for goodness' sake!
I might have given her a bit of crap about her laziness in not doing something she clearly loves, resulting in her finally saying, "When I get home I'm, going to call my girlfriend and insist we see a play soon. And then she's going to give me shit for listening to a convincing stranger and not her all these years."
A server interjected with, "Sometimes you need to hear it from the outside to actually pay attention."
But she did thank me for the theater pep talk.
I also got into an enthusiastic discussion of Honeybells with another server, but unless you've had one, there's no describing them, so we'll just end that there.
Let's just say we shared the same opinion.
A Servant of Two Masters was written in the eighteenth century by Italian Carlo Goldoni, but the themes of a character evolving, hunger for love (and food) and the differences in generations are timeless.
It's a commedia dell' arte, partly scripted and partly improvised and has lots of physical humor, including breaking wind, breast-ogling, spanking and good old slapstick.
Despite being 300+ years old, the play's language has been adapted and should not put off those uncomfortable with the likes of Shakespearean verse. It's nothing like that. Don't believe me?
Love is our sickness and men the only medicine.
The patient is ready to be given her medicine.
Love makes one do remarkable things.
Everyone else is getting a happy ending. (followed by the servant's saddest face).
Not too tough, huh?
So much of the dialogue is laugh-out-loud funny and the clearly defined characters in their magnificent costumes are each delightful in their own way.
The main character, the servant Truffaldino (played by Richard Koch), with his malleable face, quick quips and physical agility, is hard to take your eyes off of.
A night of hilarity was just what the doctor ordered, my internal doctor that is.
The theme of hunger for food and love didn't hurt its appeal any, either.
I'd have to say that it was ten dollars well spent, so, if like the bartender at Stronghill, you're overdue for some theater, you could do a lot worse and spend a lot more than this rollicking good time.
And it's so satisfying to see everyone end up with their true love.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Deluxe Delivers Braised Irony
A good part of the town has already headed out over the river and through the woods to whomever's house they are going.
That much was clear as the streets became emptier and emptier of cars today.
Andrew and I made plans to meet up for drinks and dining and I wanted to choose someplace off our beaten track, so I suggested Deluxe.
Upon arriving, his first comment was, "We're here for ironic reasons, right?"
Of course we were; what other possible reason could there be given the crowd there?
We had no idea who these people were or where they came from (although we had our suspicions), but both bars were full, so there was much fodder for discussion and that was good enough.
And there was one item on their menu I wanted to try.
It was the Braised Short Rib Grilled Cheese (pulled short ribs, Swiss cheese and caramelized onions on Texas Toast), which turned out to be exceedingly tasty.
The sandwich was thick with slow-cooked meat and the sturdy toast held it together well, except for the occasional onion oozing out.
I ordered a side of braised greens which were far better than I anticipated, perfectly cooked, garlicky and just the right tartness.
I wasn't expecting them to be so delicious.
We didn't stay too much longer after eating. Even with a couple glasses of wine, it was just too much like shooting fish in a barrel.
By the time we left, it was raining again, so Andrew set off for the gym to stay buff and I set off in search of dessert, a quest that often leads me to Garnett's these days.
They really do have a superb array of sweets and they're priced better than almost everyone else ($4 pie, $5 cake), so it's practically an engraved invitation for someone like me.
Forgetting all about chocolate, I got the Hummingbird Cake, that southern classic and loaded with my favorite coconut and with a creamy sweet frosting I'd have licked off a beater.
Tonight was the first night that Garnett's has had wine, as good an excuse as any to try Pasion Malbec and San Vito Chianti whilst chatting up F.R.O. about dating and the challenges of meshing lives.
Once we realized there were no solutions there, we moved on to food field trips and making plans for excursions to further our food knowledge.
It's all a learning experience, as someone once told me.
Dessert lovers would be wise to put Garnett's on their radar when they need a final stop for something sweet that won't break the bank and isn't available on most of the dessert menus in town.
And now that there's wine, those lovely desserts have the perfect accompaniment.
For those of the other persuasion, beer should be in house by Monday.
That much was clear as the streets became emptier and emptier of cars today.
Andrew and I made plans to meet up for drinks and dining and I wanted to choose someplace off our beaten track, so I suggested Deluxe.
Upon arriving, his first comment was, "We're here for ironic reasons, right?"
Of course we were; what other possible reason could there be given the crowd there?
We had no idea who these people were or where they came from (although we had our suspicions), but both bars were full, so there was much fodder for discussion and that was good enough.
And there was one item on their menu I wanted to try.
It was the Braised Short Rib Grilled Cheese (pulled short ribs, Swiss cheese and caramelized onions on Texas Toast), which turned out to be exceedingly tasty.
The sandwich was thick with slow-cooked meat and the sturdy toast held it together well, except for the occasional onion oozing out.
I ordered a side of braised greens which were far better than I anticipated, perfectly cooked, garlicky and just the right tartness.
I wasn't expecting them to be so delicious.
We didn't stay too much longer after eating. Even with a couple glasses of wine, it was just too much like shooting fish in a barrel.
By the time we left, it was raining again, so Andrew set off for the gym to stay buff and I set off in search of dessert, a quest that often leads me to Garnett's these days.
They really do have a superb array of sweets and they're priced better than almost everyone else ($4 pie, $5 cake), so it's practically an engraved invitation for someone like me.
Forgetting all about chocolate, I got the Hummingbird Cake, that southern classic and loaded with my favorite coconut and with a creamy sweet frosting I'd have licked off a beater.
Tonight was the first night that Garnett's has had wine, as good an excuse as any to try Pasion Malbec and San Vito Chianti whilst chatting up F.R.O. about dating and the challenges of meshing lives.
Once we realized there were no solutions there, we moved on to food field trips and making plans for excursions to further our food knowledge.
It's all a learning experience, as someone once told me.
Dessert lovers would be wise to put Garnett's on their radar when they need a final stop for something sweet that won't break the bank and isn't available on most of the dessert menus in town.
And now that there's wine, those lovely desserts have the perfect accompaniment.
For those of the other persuasion, beer should be in house by Monday.
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