Through an evening of the most intoxicating and engrossing of conversations we are occasionally and tactfully interrupted by our gracious server. Soup first, a pepper pot again. I think Chicken Lavish’s conch soup is a little better but not a lot better. I think I could probably survive on conch soup and pepper pot. I think Conch Gods soup was a pepper pot also but I’m working from a hazy memory there. A pineapple salad follows. It’s really more of a sweet, fruity slaw on a bed of wild greens but we like it a lot and Sweetie Pie is ecstatic to have a nice plate of raw veggies, a rarity this week. An appetizer plate comes out next, a combination of jerk shrimp, crab cakes and bamboo chicken. The verdict, in order, is amazing, great but ain’t no Bentleys and “How the hell did they make the chicken so tender?” The pace of the service is perfectly languid and meshes with our vibe exactly. Our entrees arrive and we chuckle to each other. They are huge. “Doggie bags,” I smile to Sweetie Pie. “Lucky dog tomorrow,” says Sweetie Pie. “Lucky dog tonight,” I woof.
The night swirls around us as we create another chapter in our own mythology. This night is mystical and magical. A night where no others may tread, ours and ours alone. We have dessert and coffee, Sweetie Pie orders the bananas flambé and we have fun watching the sauce caramelize under the dancing flames. I enjoy my dessert, it is delicious, but I have a giant “DOH!” moment when I realize bananas flambé is bananas foster with rum instead of bourbon. My favorite dessert. Sweetie Pie feeds me enough to leave me just short of satisfied. She’s such a tease. We follow with coffee and aperitifs. We linger, not wanting this night to end.
Sweetie Pie goes to make a visit and when she returns she’s smiling a little. “Bohemian couple is here,” she says and points out their table. When I take my turn we trade pleasantries, they are really enjoying themselves. The parallel coincidence strikes me deeply on this day I’ve put so much preparation toward. I wonder if they planned this day or simply stumbled on perfection. It reminds me of another favorite phrase of mine, though not really in this context – We are all on different paths to the same destination.
With no small effort we decide to head out. We have spent close to five hours winding our way through cocktails, a five course meal, coffee and aperitifs. We snap a picture of the candlelit terrace in the dark and say our goodbyes to Karen.
