A Dinner Worth Blogging About

I'm writing from Lousiville, Kentucky. On St. Patrick's Day. Instead of going to the parade and watching Davis march with the BC Cadets, I spent my whole day in a meeting learning how to be a program reviewer for NCATE Accreditation. No green beer. No beads. No jumping on floats and waving at the crowd. Just handouts and NCTE standards.


So when I finally got out of said meeting, I was in a little bit of a funk, to the extent that when I spoke to Stephen on the phone, he asked, "Do you feel okay?" I did. I was just wishing I was somewhere else, like Savannah.


So to get out of my funk, I decided to go downstairs to the hotel bar and have a drink as I decided where to eat my dinner.


Now, I am staying at the Seelbach Hilton on 4th Street in downtown Louisville. It's an historic hotel with marble staircases, crystal chandeliers and grandfather clocks. The bar, with its cherry wood paneling, upholstered furniture and arched windows, lifted my spirits a bit. Might as well order a Bourbon drink, I thought as I sat down at the bar. I ordered an Old Fashioned. Cole, the informative and well-educated bar-tender, fixed me right up, explaining the history of the Old Fashioned as he did so. He made mine with raw sugar, a ginger-peppercorn simple syrup, and Knob Creek Bourbon. It was delightful. He let me taste blood orange bitters as well as the simple syrup flavoried with lavender and hybiscus. We spent almost an hour discussing bar-tending, No Child Left Behind and the flaws in the latest health care reform policy, lamenting all the while that the world's problems would all be solved had anybody bothered to ask us.


One problem Cole could help me solve was where to eat dinner. "That's easy," he said, and he pointed to Larry, the maitre d' of the adjacent Oak Room restaurant.


"Oh, I can't have dinner in there," I protested, looking at my clothes (I'm wearing my brother in-law's hand-me-down Ralph Lauren men's winter-white jeans and a sweater from Coldwater Creek). "I'm not dressed appropriately."


"No worries," Larry said. "You don't have to dress up to eat here."


So I took their advice, and I'm so glad I did. Having finished my Old Fashioned, I asked Cole to make me a Manhattan, and while he did so, I went to my table. I sat next to an arched window and admired the cherry paneling in the restaurant as well. The manager showed me the Al Capone room, then explained that the main dining room used to be the men's billiard's club, all the while pointing to the original pool cue racks on the wall. When Cole arrived with my cocktail, he showed me how to flame orange oils, a neat little trick involving a match and a squeezed orange rind, which, as soon as I show my children, will have them begging me to purchase citrus by the bushel.


Besides one other woman a few tables down, I was the only customer in the restaurant, so the waitress (Jennifer? Well, that's her name now.) and a waiter named Chris were all too pleased to cater to my every whim. And that they did. Chris started me off with an amuse bouche of pork belly and red hot apple sauce, which reminded me of the fancy restaurant food descriptions I experienced in Athens back in January. I'd heard of amuse bouche, but I'd never had one. It was quite tasty.


Then Jennifer recommended I try the pecan pie salad, which featured mixed greens, sliced onions and chopped pecans, served with--get this--blue cheese ice cream! I was a little skeptical about the ice cream thing. Creamy, cold dessert doesn't seem to go with the tart cheese I usually associate with salad dressing. Still, I love trying new food and my curiosity got the best of me. So I ordered it.


After one bite, I was ready for a blue cheese milk shake. Really. It was that good. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.


So for my entree, I also took Jennifer's advice: Celebration of Duck, which consisted of a duck comfit (I don't even know what a comfit is. Or is it confit? Who cares? It's splendid!) topped with a soft-boiled duck egg (or was it poached?) and served with turnip greens in a delicous broth. I ate a duck egg! I've got to figure out how to make it because the next time Davis shoots a duck, I want it to celebrate! The turnips were the perfect complement to the dark poultry, and the broth was so good I wanted to put my face in it and lick it up like the dogs who live in my dad's back yard.


I was eyeing the stirrer in my Manhattan, considering sucking up the broth through it, when a group of businessmen entered, followed by two couples on a double date. So I maintained my table manners, all the while protesting tacitly, Who said you folks could come in? This is my restaurant!


Because Larry had given me a large peanut butter cookie before I walked in (which I look forward to eating on the plane tomorrow), I declined the dessert menu, but Chris maintained his status as my favorite waiter of all time (Jennifer being my favorite waitress), by serving me two petits fours at the end of the meal.


I wish I had photos, but I'm writing from the hotel's business center and don't have my card reader with me. Still, run, don't walk (okay, you can drive) to Louisville. And when you get there, go to the Seelbach Hilton for dinner. Ask Cole to make you an Old Fashioned, and then sit back for a delicious meal. If you'd like, take a walk on the wild side and have blue cheese ice cream for dessert.