Out to dinner tonight for our sixth anniversary at Dovetail. Happy senate term. Dovetail: spiraling downwards or a bird's ass?
Drunk off of the chef's tasting menu, plus the accompanying wines. It can't be my fault; I just drank what was given to me.
As we sat through the courses we saw generations of diners come and go. Over three hours for seven courses, plus special bonus dishes. Many waiters in different social castes: full servers in complete suits, sommeliers, vested Latino men delivering our plates, suited adolescents refilling our water. Everyone intensely professional.
Felt like we ate pornography: foie gras and frogs legs. Tragically, both were delicious. But I knew they were wrong.
The most expensive dinner we've ever had. The thoughtless wealth in the room was staggering.
After numerous amuse bouches, our dinner ended in ignominy: dessert and a hastily produced check. Maybe because the restaurant was emptying. The total bill was galling. We sat and waited for another possible morsel, another bite, and none came.
Conversation this year was better than last. Honesty, children, professional fulfillment. She still makes me laugh and makes me proud. We talked love languages, words of affirmation, acts of service, physical touch in a dining room. Six years down and a lifetime to go. Love you my blabe.