Last night was Athena's (my Sister-In-Law's) birthday. Five adults and two babies went to Rosemary's Restaurant for dinner. I had heard for years that Rosemary's was a good restaurant, but I didn't know it was hoity-toity food. I instantly felt out of place in my milk-stained khakis and my 20-hour hair.
But hey, at least Dim was wearing jeans, and Bean wasn't even wearing socks. If we were going to re-enact The Clampetts Go To A Fancy Restaurant, then at least I was the best dressed among us.
The food was excellent. The starter course was an asparagus bread pudding with crème fraiche and micro greens served on remoulade sauce. We also had prosciutto-wrapped figs stuffed with goat cheese and served with pesto and a basil aioli. For the main course, I had the grilled mahi mahi served on vegetables julienne (funny, tasted like CABBAGE to me) and plated with a Riesling gastrique and citrus supremes (thickened orange juice to Cletus and me).
The food was wonderful. The babies were relatively well behaved, although I did have to step out of the restaurant twice so the other diners did not have to hear Sophie's "Ode to English and Cantonese Vowels" she so often favors in the early evening.
The only exception to the wonderful dining experience came from Bean's cousin Earen. During a very brief lull in conversation not only at our table, but also at the other tables near us, Earen filled the silence with a rather loud, rather wet, and rather enthusiastic shit. The waiter came over and immediately offered directions to the restroom. I stifled my laughter as well as I could.
No matter how many airs of sophistication (big) Sophie tries to put on, she just can't escape being seen publicly with the Clampett's and Shit Boy.