Decadence in Liver
Last week, one of my clients expressed his excitement at having only a single bottle left of one of his favorite wines, and mentioned that he needed to open it soon before it passed its peak.
"You're just waiting for us to come in again, aren't you?" I said, half teasing. (The last time my Favorite Foodie Friend and I had paid him a visit resulted in a virtual orgy of cheese and wine, and the evening ended with the three of us drinking Champagne in his restaurant until about two in the morning.)
His eyes perked up. "Yes, that's perfect! You girls get yourself in here again and I'll open this sucker up."
No need to tell me twice. Five minutes later I was out in my car texting my FFF, and we were making plans to descend on the bar of the fancy French restaurant once again.
So around 8:30 last night, after a light snack of sushi and Sauvignon Blanc, we pulled open the doors and crept into the quiet dining room. The bartender, who we had only met once before, greeted us like old friends and poured us each a glass of Chateauneuf-du-Pape. We knew that the owner would still be cooking, and parked ourselves down to enjoy the wine and a delicious cheese plate while we waited for him to be done with the shift and come out into the bar to gossip and drink with us.
After we lingered over and savored our cheese plate for about an hour, it was cleared away and new silverware was set down. We looked at each other with curious excitement - we knew we hadn't ordered anything else, but it looked like someone had plans for our palates.
A few minutes later, a heaping plate of buttery fois gras was set down in front of us, and our eyes practically teared as the realization of our treasure sunk in. The bartender poured two generous glasses of Sauternes, and we dug in.
It was perfectly cooked, seared on the outside and medium-rare inside, with dark macerated cherries and figs on the plate. The Sauternes danced on my tongue - the racy acidity and sweetness slicing through the rich fois gras beautifully.
When the chef was done cooking, he opened his treasured bottle of Cabernet and shared it not only with us, but with the two servers who were still there. We continued to sit at the bar and shared food stories, gossiped about other restaurants, and in general had a great time.
We couldn't believe how lucky we were. What a perfect way to end the hectic week. Totally worth the small headache the next morning.
"You're just waiting for us to come in again, aren't you?" I said, half teasing. (The last time my Favorite Foodie Friend and I had paid him a visit resulted in a virtual orgy of cheese and wine, and the evening ended with the three of us drinking Champagne in his restaurant until about two in the morning.)
His eyes perked up. "Yes, that's perfect! You girls get yourself in here again and I'll open this sucker up."
No need to tell me twice. Five minutes later I was out in my car texting my FFF, and we were making plans to descend on the bar of the fancy French restaurant once again.
So around 8:30 last night, after a light snack of sushi and Sauvignon Blanc, we pulled open the doors and crept into the quiet dining room. The bartender, who we had only met once before, greeted us like old friends and poured us each a glass of Chateauneuf-du-Pape. We knew that the owner would still be cooking, and parked ourselves down to enjoy the wine and a delicious cheese plate while we waited for him to be done with the shift and come out into the bar to gossip and drink with us.
After we lingered over and savored our cheese plate for about an hour, it was cleared away and new silverware was set down. We looked at each other with curious excitement - we knew we hadn't ordered anything else, but it looked like someone had plans for our palates.
A few minutes later, a heaping plate of buttery fois gras was set down in front of us, and our eyes practically teared as the realization of our treasure sunk in. The bartender poured two generous glasses of Sauternes, and we dug in.
It was perfectly cooked, seared on the outside and medium-rare inside, with dark macerated cherries and figs on the plate. The Sauternes danced on my tongue - the racy acidity and sweetness slicing through the rich fois gras beautifully.
When the chef was done cooking, he opened his treasured bottle of Cabernet and shared it not only with us, but with the two servers who were still there. We continued to sit at the bar and shared food stories, gossiped about other restaurants, and in general had a great time.
We couldn't believe how lucky we were. What a perfect way to end the hectic week. Totally worth the small headache the next morning.
posted by Erin at
2:58 PM
2 Comments:
...and totally worth the slight clogging of the arteries such insane decadence tends to do. — FFF
Yukie x2! I am jealous of the wine. But liver???? BLUHHHH!!
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