Tues. 14 June: Dinner explained, with the assistance of a thesaurus.
Last night, as Emily, Courtney, and I were all snuggly-warm, finishing dinner and watching "Sleepless in Seattle," (LOVE that movie!) a friend came stumbling up the dark stairs to find me. "Dinner with friends!" came the invite, and I knew I couldn't turn it down.
There we sat and enjoyed some hilarious conversation at the same fun Japanese restaurant that Anj, Claire and I had visited a few weeks ago. We were a jovial heptet: two Germans, a Fijian-Indian, and two Americans. After dinner we walked to Tull, a tiny joint in a dodgy-looking area with raved-about desserts. "This place has reached cult status," the Fijian-Indian said, as we were informed of our luck at being seated, despite our lack of reservation.
Our server was a man of corpulent physique, with a long greyish beard and hair to match, pulled back and tamed by a bandanna that wrapped around his head. "Interesting," thought I, "that such a place as this would be so popular." It was gathered that this man not only was our server, but also the preparer of our dessert. The menu named unrestrained dishes such as "Chocolate Massacre," and offered for each a description of lavish and flowery proportions...not unlike those ridiculous ones found on bottles of wine.
The entire experience was yet another that made me realise how special life can be. Taking time out to talk to each other and have fun... to be dorky and run through an airport singing "San Francisco, open your golden gates."
Um, except they kind of stare at you when you actually do it in San Francisco. Thanks to my darling sister, Sarah, who did it two years ago. Oh the memories!
Hmm, in continuation of my randomness, I meant to mention that "Tull" is, indeed, in honour of Jethro. There was a large cardboard cut-out on the wall of The Tull, and I suppose that offers an explanation of our server/chef...
Also, I cut my hair again :o)
There we sat and enjoyed some hilarious conversation at the same fun Japanese restaurant that Anj, Claire and I had visited a few weeks ago. We were a jovial heptet: two Germans, a Fijian-Indian, and two Americans. After dinner we walked to Tull, a tiny joint in a dodgy-looking area with raved-about desserts. "This place has reached cult status," the Fijian-Indian said, as we were informed of our luck at being seated, despite our lack of reservation.
Our server was a man of corpulent physique, with a long greyish beard and hair to match, pulled back and tamed by a bandanna that wrapped around his head. "Interesting," thought I, "that such a place as this would be so popular." It was gathered that this man not only was our server, but also the preparer of our dessert. The menu named unrestrained dishes such as "Chocolate Massacre," and offered for each a description of lavish and flowery proportions...not unlike those ridiculous ones found on bottles of wine.
The entire experience was yet another that made me realise how special life can be. Taking time out to talk to each other and have fun... to be dorky and run through an airport singing "San Francisco, open your golden gates."
Um, except they kind of stare at you when you actually do it in San Francisco. Thanks to my darling sister, Sarah, who did it two years ago. Oh the memories!
Hmm, in continuation of my randomness, I meant to mention that "Tull" is, indeed, in honour of Jethro. There was a large cardboard cut-out on the wall of The Tull, and I suppose that offers an explanation of our server/chef...
Also, I cut my hair again :o)
posted by liz at
6/14/2005 08:51:00 PM
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