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.
Well, I'm proud to be a Clampett (mostly because I can't pronounce half the names of the food you ate but can still appreciate the culinary treat to the palate) and proud to be (sort of but not really) related to Shit Boy. This coming from the mom who aided and abetted certain children who shall--- ahem -- remain nameless, in their participatation in farting contests, napkin fights and straw bridge building contests across long tables at public restaurants. Said children thrived nontheless, did not grow tails as they reached adulthood and still learned to cavort among the hoi poloi when needs be.
You didn't mention that the Bean well survived her babysitting adventure with Dad and I on Saturday. Next time we'll have to begin teaching her the finer points of "Clampett-hood". :o)
Posted by: mom at July 31, 2006 2:21 PMWow, impressive. We haven't tried a fancy place yet!
We have taken our mame (japanese for "bean", though that will be the last time I usurp your pet name) to the following places:
I love sushi
Tre Luca (patio italian dining)
California Pizza Kitchen
mmmmm Rosemary's. My favorite LV restaurant.
Posted by: susan at July 31, 2006 5:08 PMThat makes sense Brian. What does "eda" mean in "edamame?"
Posted by: Jen Rodis at July 31, 2006 6:15 PMCome on, that's WAY too easy. It's waht the Japanese Clampett person says when they have just consumed a bean. "I edamame"
Posted by: John at July 31, 2006 7:02 PMYeah, I left myself WAY open for that, John.
Posted by: Jen Rodis at July 31, 2006 8:29 PMeda = branch
:+)
Posted by: Brian at August 4, 2006 8:58 PM