Last night was the second time in less than a month that Jeff and I had a date night. I know. We‘re liable to get spoiled by that sort of thing. Our first date of the month was during our trip to Washington DC over Spring break. My dear of a sister-in-law, Ashley, kindly stepped up and offered babysitting services to give hubby and I a chance to enjoy a night out in the city. We ate at this cool restaurant that was like right across the street from the White House. If you‘ve only seen pictures of it on TV, you‘re sort of led to believe that the President‘s house is all stately and set apart from everything. Not so. Like I said, it was right across the street from a restaurant. And since it was, we couldn‘t resist stopping by on our way home to snap a photo or two.
Last night’s date took place much closer to home.
Awhile ago I saw an ad in a local newsletter for a ‘Kids Nite Out’ sponsored by a local church. Five bucks bought us five hours of mommy and daddy time to spend as we saw fit. And boy did we live it up people, let me tell you. We started the evening at a fancy shmancy local restaurant. How did it merit my fancy shmancy rating you ask? Well for starters there were only five tables in the whole place. That alone qualifies it for fancy at the very least. Then, because each and every item on the menu contained at least one ingredient that I‘d never heard of before, I felt the shmancy rating was in order.
The food was good, not great though. I had glorified chicken with mashed potatoes and asparagus. It was nicely presented, but the flavor didn‘t live up for me. Jeff was far more adventurous and ordered some fish (Pike) that the waiter described as a mix between mahi-mahi and swordfish on the meatiness and texture scale. Hmm. And I didn‘t even know there was a meatiness and texture scale. Just goes to show you learn something new every day. Oh, but get this. His fish was ‘painted‘ (waiter’s description, not mine) with squid ink. Now, if you‘ve seen Disney‘s Finding Nemo you remember well the scene when the squid gets frightened and to her friends says, ‘Awww, you guys made me ink.‘ Well, I could only think of two things as Jeff was enjoying his squid ink-painted fish.
1. How does one go about collecting squid ink for later use as paint on Pike?
2. Did the first person who tasted squid ink do so on a drunken dare after watching Finding Nemo with his best friend who happened to be a culinary genius?
These are just things I consider during dates at fancy shmancy restaurants with my husband. Moving right along though.
As a testament to just how fancy shmancy the restaurant really was, let me tell you that we nearly skipped on dessert if for no other reason than we couldn’t decipher the item descriptions and we didn‘t want to embarrass ourselves by asking. Not that a repeat of one time at a different fancy shmancy restaurant when Jeff asked the waiter what ‘foy grass’ was would be an embarrassment or anything. Oh, and in case you haven‘t heard, foie gras is fattened duck liver. Yum.
In the end, Jeff couldn‘t resist and asked what ‘capirotada’ was. Turns out capirotada is a Mexican bread pudding. This one was covered in cranberry apple chutney and caramel sauce. Yeah. DE-lish. The dessert made the meal for me. And since you all visited my blog today for a food review, there ya go.
After dinner we had some mommy and daddy time left before the babysitting jig was up so we did what any hot-blooded American couple would do. That’s right people: we went to Target. Date clothes and all. We really needed a new trashcan. Our handy one with the step-up lid broke last week and with a toddler in the house who happens to be just tall enough to see over the rim, a lidless trashcan just won‘t do. Lidless trashcans and toddlers don’t mix. That’s how you end up with spaghetti remnants in the storage drawer of your leather ottoman.
And it was another exciting date night for us. I guess it says a lot about the kind of peeps we are that we didn’t use mommy and daddy time to go to the rock climbing gym or to a concert. Nope. It was shopping for a trashcan at Target. Oh, but we did it in peace my friends. We perused the aisles of Target stopping to look at whatever caught our eye and not once did we have to run to the front of the store in search of paper towels to clean up spilled Icee. Not once.
I can handle date nights like this more often.