Then Joe and I split a glass of excellent red wine. In very fine glassware. "This is even as good as 2-buck Chuck!" I exclaimed. Laura wanted to taste a sip too but we all yelled "Fetal Alcohol Syndrome!" at her and rolled our eyes. Again. Major eye rolls are a Stillwater family tradition.
"But I only wanted a sip," said Laura who is actually a totally conscientious pregnant person. Oh okay. The wine was good and the salad had a good after-taste and the bread was good and the butter was better.
"Do you want still water or sparkling water with your dinner," asked the waitress.
Meanwhile Ashley was eye-ing the steak knife. "This is a really good knife." But we persuaded her not to steal the silverware. Then they brought us the main course.
"The green beans are perfect and the corn custard is to die for but the chicken is not all that good," I said.
"Ma, you have been expecting too much from that chicken," replied Joe philosophically. "That's just the nature of chicken. It's hard to mess it up but its also hard to make it really good either. It's the dynamic, Ma. Chicken can only be taken so far." Chicken dynamics? Okay. But the sage leaves under the skin gave it lots of flavor and the sauce was good. Chicken dynamics?
In the meantime, Ashley was DETERMINED to try to eat her drumstick with her new friend the knife. But not me. I wanted easy access to every bite of that chicken. This was a fifty-dollar chicken! To hell with the knife.
"Would you like coffee or sherry with your dessert?" asked our waitress. Do you have to pay extra for it? "Yes." Sigh. I bet they make really good coffee but we were already over the budget on the wine. And Ashley then informed us that 10% of everything we drink gets backwashed. Eeuuww.
Ah! The dessert. With a candle in mine to celebrate my birthday. I made my usual wish, the old Buddhist favorite, "May all beings attain the Pure Land in this lifetime." Apricot tart. Handmade ice cream. Yes yes yes. Then, for a thoughtful final touch, the waitress brought us a small plate of wild strawberries and pistachios rolled in cocoa paste. We almost ate them all up before we remembered to get a photo of them. The bill came to $263 but we had saved up. You only turn 65 once.
"So. Guys. Which was your favorite part of the meal?" I asked. "I truly loved the salad and thought it was the highlight -- with the possible exception of the aphid."
"Why you all the time hatin' on the aphid!" said Ashley. Her favorite part was the salad too. Everyone agreed that the salad was primo.
"And I liked the tart," added Joe. "It had a good aftertaste." And just as we were walking down the steps to the garden in front of Chez Panisse, our waitress came running after us and gave us all a hug. "Happy birthday!" It was the perfect ending to a perfect birthday dinner. And as we left, a fire truck and ambulance came roaring out of the night and parked next to the restaurant. "Do you think they are going to Chez Panisse?" I asked.
"If they are", someone replied, "that would be giving a whole new meaning to the term 'food to die for'!" We all laughed. The food had certainly been heavenly. Except for the chicken. But Shhh! Don't tell Joe.
PS: Ashley accidentally deleted all the cell phone photos she had taken of the dinner so I'll try to get Joe to put his video of our gourmet celebration on YouTube -- especially the part with the aphid race.
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