The secret code I use to wash away my lonely blues
We could not, as in previous years, spend the day of our seventh anniversary at a museum or the harbor or even our traditional restaurant, so we arranged for dinner from Sarma on the grounds that in four years on this street we had walked past its tile-blue doors innumerable times and never actually eaten there together. Retrieving the dinner was not complicated but it was cold, since the afternoon's snow had given way to the falling slush known euphemistically in this country as wintry mix, and neither of us appreciated the passing car that funneled up a vast wave of icy sludge onto us out of the street, but for our troubles we received an assortment of delicious-smelling containers nicely labeled and even still warm by the time we got them home, thanks to the four reusable grocery bags we had used to insulate them. We dressed nicely. We put a runner and new placemats on the dining room table. We set out the pomegranate and the mead from my parents. We gently sequestered the cats.
And we had no traditions with this restaurant, so we experimented. The closest thing we had to a strikeout was the sweet potato spanakopita skins, but only because I would have pared the sweet potato even closer to its skin in favor of the spinach whose tart creaminess was bracingly cut with a sting of jalapeño and lime. We had no such quibbles about the harissa-red lamb meatballs which came over a bed of tomato-and-onion pilaf, or the octopus puttanesca where the tender tentacles curled up out of a near-stew of white beans and kale and long-stemmed caulilini all soaking savorily into fluffy polenta, or the smoked trout taramasalata garnished seasonally but not overpoweringly with feathery strands of dill. The Lebanese grilled chicken wings fall into the family of stupidly classy fast food, addictively tongue-lighting with tahini and dukkah and crushed peanuts which I picked off and scallions which![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch ignored. We forgot to order the falafel crackers that had piqued our attention on the menu, so Rob carefully divided the last of last night's biscuits (we had made them to accompany a pork chop with helljam) to give us something to mop up assorted sauces with. As far as we could tell there is sweet-salt roe in their tzatziki and I approve of it so much. Both of us thought the Meyer lemon bar would be a sort of shortbread, not a torched-meringue cousin of key lime pie; we ran out of room before the pumpkin cinnamon roll, but it was drizzled with pomegranate seeds. We have some very fancy leftovers in our refrigerator right now. I think we can put the zhoug on everything.
I gave Rob his anniversary book, Lillian Ross' Picture (1952); he gave me my anniversary IOU on account of the slowness of the mail. We dequestered the cats and watched Stephan Elliott's Easy Virtue (2008), whose soundtrack has been on regular rotation in our household since 2012; it may bear only the most technical relationship to its source play by Noël Coward, but on its own merits it is a delightful and satisfying comedy of manners constantly nudging its toe across the line of farce, with a soundtrack of joyous anachronism and brilliantly reflective cinematography by Martin Kenzie.
We did not have the undersea neon of Waypoint, but we had ourselves to celebrate, and that's what counts.
And we had no traditions with this restaurant, so we experimented. The closest thing we had to a strikeout was the sweet potato spanakopita skins, but only because I would have pared the sweet potato even closer to its skin in favor of the spinach whose tart creaminess was bracingly cut with a sting of jalapeño and lime. We had no such quibbles about the harissa-red lamb meatballs which came over a bed of tomato-and-onion pilaf, or the octopus puttanesca where the tender tentacles curled up out of a near-stew of white beans and kale and long-stemmed caulilini all soaking savorily into fluffy polenta, or the smoked trout taramasalata garnished seasonally but not overpoweringly with feathery strands of dill. The Lebanese grilled chicken wings fall into the family of stupidly classy fast food, addictively tongue-lighting with tahini and dukkah and crushed peanuts which I picked off and scallions which
spatch ignored. We forgot to order the falafel crackers that had piqued our attention on the menu, so Rob carefully divided the last of last night's biscuits (we had made them to accompany a pork chop with helljam) to give us something to mop up assorted sauces with. As far as we could tell there is sweet-salt roe in their tzatziki and I approve of it so much. Both of us thought the Meyer lemon bar would be a sort of shortbread, not a torched-meringue cousin of key lime pie; we ran out of room before the pumpkin cinnamon roll, but it was drizzled with pomegranate seeds. We have some very fancy leftovers in our refrigerator right now. I think we can put the zhoug on everything.I gave Rob his anniversary book, Lillian Ross' Picture (1952); he gave me my anniversary IOU on account of the slowness of the mail. We dequestered the cats and watched Stephan Elliott's Easy Virtue (2008), whose soundtrack has been on regular rotation in our household since 2012; it may bear only the most technical relationship to its source play by Noël Coward, but on its own merits it is a delightful and satisfying comedy of manners constantly nudging its toe across the line of farce, with a soundtrack of joyous anachronism and brilliantly reflective cinematography by Martin Kenzie.
We did not have the undersea neon of Waypoint, but we had ourselves to celebrate, and that's what counts.
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Nine
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It was lovely. We were so glad it worked out to find a place of appropriate fanciness that, even though it didn't deliver, was still close enough to feed us. Plus that outdoor octopus.
Next year, may we all be dining out.
Amen!
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Thank you!
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These are lovely pics! :o)
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Thank you! What in the hell are you doing awake?
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It was very important to do something.
These are lovely pics!
Thank you!
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Oh, for a muse of standard business hours.
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I regret the hour but am otherwise delight.
*offers candied citron*
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I have that same sweater Spatch is wearing. It used to belong to Little Springtime, but I adopted it when she left it behind.
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Happy anniversary; it sounds lovely. And delicious.
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I hope the IOU doesn't need to last as long as my IOU to spouse last Christmas - finally redeemed in October....
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Sound planning ;)
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Thank you! (It does!)
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I wish I could teleport it to you. I think it will be very nice when it is possible to visit restaurants and friends safely again.
I have that same sweater Spatch is wearing. It used to belong to Little Springtime, but I adopted it when she left it behind.
I am so glad you were able to give it a good home!
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Thank you! It was both.
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Thank you! They are marvelous.
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Thank you! We liked what we were looking at.
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It was spectacular. And we have not eaten out much during this plague, so it felt extra special.
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Thank you!
I hope the IOU doesn't need to last as long as my IOU to spouse last Christmas - finally redeemed in October....
At least it got redeemed!
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Thank you! It was, in fact, epic.
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One of my father's friends used to make us tzatziki from scratch and it was the best. This was a most acceptable substitute, though.
Sound planning
We love them dearly, but they still don't get to eat the human food.
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Thank you! It felt important.
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Also, thank you for reminding me of Sarma's existence! I've eaten there a couple of times and very much enjoyed it, but it was never habitual, so it hadn't occurred to me as a takeout option to investigate. But everything you described sounds amazing.
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Thank you!
Also, thank you for reminding me of Sarma's existence!
You're welcome! Their takeout menu seems to change slightly from day to day and it is better to order early because they do run out of things (we placed an order for dinner around two in the afternoon and they were already out of all of the drinks and most of the desserts), but they were safe, efficient, and stupidly delicious, all of which we appreciated in a time of COVID. Also you have a car, which means you don't have to trudge through slush to get there.
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Oh my goodness that meal sounds fabulous. No decent taramasalata on offer here (God knows I've tried) and adding roe to the tzatziki is a brilliant variation. I deeply appreciate the blank checks sartorial theme.
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I hope you can make it at home! (It was delicious.)
I deeply appreciate the blank checks sartorial theme.
Thank you!
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Thank you! I highly recommend them! (It is the pendant by