Tonight after class the better-half and I went to Cafe Rustica which is between 4th and 5th on Main. It was really outstanding. We sat at the bar and when the woman behind the bar saw us she asked us if we’d been in before. We hadn’t but we told her she looked familiar. We placed our order for the cheese plate with flights of complementing beverages and then I stared at her as she worked. I turned to the better-half and said I know where we know her. He and I said at the same time, “Bamboo”.
When she got back to us we told her it was Bamboo and she nodded her head in remembrance. It’s been awhile since we hung out there but evidently we were there enough to make an impression. I love the Bamboo.
Thanks to her excellent memory of all bars and restaurants in the Fan, she helped us remember the name of the Paradise bar. We’ve been trying to come up with that name for over a year. She also reminded us of Not Betty’s. A long dead but much beloved bar. Truth be told we only went there a few times–it’s prime was when I was either not allowed out of the house or was in college out of town.
Anyway, the cheese plate was outstanding. There was a goat cheese, a blue cheese and an irish porter. We sipped wine, beer and port with the cheeses. Excellent.
For dinner I ordered the polenta with fresh, chef-grown vegetables. Oh my gawd. I died and went to heaven. The better-half ordered the keftas and really enjoyed. We’ve decided we have to grind our own beef at least once. Those patties were outstanding.
We were too full to order dessert but before we left we exchanged names with the woman behind the bar and told her we’d see her soon. That’s a fact, Jack.