Midway through dinner, we realize this is the nicest place we've been out since our honeymoon. It was his idea: dinner before a show. He picked the place too, a downtown steakhouse a few blocks from the symphony hall.
We are the first patrons in the door, a few minutes before our reservation. Perhaps it's because we so rarely do this that everything feels so luxurious: a stand at the front desk for the umbrellas needed in this winter downpour, specialty whipped butter to go with the bread, steak tartare and oysters on the menu, a jazz trio cordoned off by the bar, a glass room filled with wine bottles that glow like garnets. The hostess tucks us into a cozy booth, where our waiter greets us moments later and shares his dinner recommendations.
It seems silly to attempt to preserve the ephemeral experience of a good meal by writing about it. A sentence in my mouth will never melt like short ribs or goat cheese; it cannot taste as rich as chocolate cake. But oh, how good it was, every bite.
With time to kill and stomachs to settle, we order tea (which, of course, we chose from a wooden chest that was brought to our table, then brewed with hot water from individual-sized ceramic pots). Every so often we comment to one another how nice it all is.
Of course, it's always nice to have dinner together, whether it's chicken nuggets in the car or cheese and crackers on the couch or my latest experiment at our dining table over a game of cribbage. But this is especially nice, a fond glimpse backward at the indulgence of years ago. They tell you when you get married that the honeymoon phase doesn't last, and I suppose they're not wrong. Eventually, you trade in the giddy just-married joy for a quiet equilibrium just as surely as you replace the castoff furniture that provisions your first place together. What they don't tell you quite so clearly is that those everyday moments of connection lay a foundation for the special ones like this.
I look across the table at him, smiling. We will have to do this more often, we agree.
Here's what I read, cooked, and created in the month of January.
What I Read
Being Elisabeth Elliot, Ellen Vaughn (★★★★)
The One and Only Bob, Katherine Applegate (★★★)
Man and Wife, Andrew Klavan (★★★)
Jo & Laurie, Margaret Stohl and Melissa de la Cruz (★★★)
Verity, Colleen Hoover (★)
If you want to hear the rationale behind my rating, head to my Goodreads for full reviews.
What I Cooked
Difficulty: ★★
Flavor: ★★★★
Keeper: Yes
Comments: I definitely had to add more liquid than called for, and I don't think the goat cheese was necessary. Otherwise, though, this was the best Modern Proper recipe I've tried to date.
What I Created
Half of a poem
May your days be filled with beauty, and may your heart be filled with the willingness to see and give thanks for it.