demonstrate a chef’s imagination and potential.
We all studied the menu, and from the long pause in the conversation, I suspected that they were having as much difficulty sorting through the options as I was.
“I can’t figure out what kind of food this is. The appetizers definitely sounded Japanese, but the entréesare sort of trying to be everything for everyone,” said Ray. “I’ll taste whatever you order. Since you’re the expert. You know I am not a fan of tofu.” He grinned. “But if you say it’s good, I’ll eat it.”
“Man, what a sport,” said Wally. “If you’re going to eat tofu, I guess I will man up and eat it, too.”
“You guys rock.” I turned to face Palamina, who still had her head buried in the large menu. “Anything in particular you want to be sure to try?”
She grimaced. “So many choices. If it was me writing, that’s where I’d start the review,” she said. “What does it say about a restaurant when the menu is two feet long?” She handed her copy to me. “I went on a business trip to Tokyo and Kyoto about five years ago. I remember loving the shabu-shabu. And of course any kind of sashimi or sushi works for me. Except for that puffer thing.”
The waiter approached the table again and I smiled up at him. “If you don’t mind, I’ll order for my friends.”
He folded into a formal bow that didn’t quite mesh with his sun-bleached hair and tan face. “So you are the Japanese expert.”
“Not exactly,” I said, “but apparently I’m in charge for tonight. We would like to try your specialty, the cold bento box. And then we’ll have several small plates, the chicken yakitori, the vegetable tempura, the beginners’ introduction to sashimi and sushi, the buckwheat soba noodles with bonito flakes and mountain vegetables. And the shabu-shabu sampler. Anything I left out that might be a specialty of the chef?”
“Grouper fish flambé, of course,” he said. “The owners caught the grouper themselves last night. And wewent out with Chef early this morning and gathered the seaweed from Smathers Beach.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from snickering: hard to picture the restaurant staff moving among the early spring break revelers, scooping up seaweed.
“Okay, we’ll try that, too.”
“That’s a lot of food,” Palamina said. “Are you sure?”
I nodded and continued to focus on the waiter. “And for our landlubbers, how about a hamburger all the way with truffled fries and the Maryland chicken. And the vegetarian pad thai and an order of Vietnamese spring rolls.” I settled back into my chair, realizing how ordering in front of Palamina made me feel tense—as tight as one of the Cat Man’s felines on a high wire. Almost as if I was auditioning for my job all over again. “I know it seems like more than we can eat, but I take leftovers home or give them to my homeless buddies,” I explained to her while attempting to uncrick my stiff neck. “The main thing is to try a fair sample of the menu. The budget doesn’t allow for multiple visits. Or at least it didn’t under Ava.”
“I see your point,” she said. Though she didn’t sound convinced. “I’m glad to hear you’re thinking about the budget.”
After selecting complimentary beer and sake to go with the dinner, Wally and Palamina began to talk shop about future financial planning for the e-zine. Ray and I wandered out to the deck to admire the night again. Across the harbor, the lights of the restaurants winked, reflecting a swash of stars in the sky. The air smelled like salt and fresh fish, with a dash of diesel fumes to keep us moored in reality. I suspected we were boththinking of the last time I was here with him—I’d been shot and in serious shock. I plucked at the rubber band on my wrist, which Eric had suggested might distract me from unpleasant recurrent memories.
“Your new boss is a little intimidating,” said Ray, his eyebrows drawing together in
We all studied the menu, and from the long pause in the conversation, I suspected that they were having as much difficulty sorting through the options as I was.
“I can’t figure out what kind of food this is. The appetizers definitely sounded Japanese, but the entréesare sort of trying to be everything for everyone,” said Ray. “I’ll taste whatever you order. Since you’re the expert. You know I am not a fan of tofu.” He grinned. “But if you say it’s good, I’ll eat it.”
“Man, what a sport,” said Wally. “If you’re going to eat tofu, I guess I will man up and eat it, too.”
“You guys rock.” I turned to face Palamina, who still had her head buried in the large menu. “Anything in particular you want to be sure to try?”
She grimaced. “So many choices. If it was me writing, that’s where I’d start the review,” she said. “What does it say about a restaurant when the menu is two feet long?” She handed her copy to me. “I went on a business trip to Tokyo and Kyoto about five years ago. I remember loving the shabu-shabu. And of course any kind of sashimi or sushi works for me. Except for that puffer thing.”
The waiter approached the table again and I smiled up at him. “If you don’t mind, I’ll order for my friends.”
He folded into a formal bow that didn’t quite mesh with his sun-bleached hair and tan face. “So you are the Japanese expert.”
“Not exactly,” I said, “but apparently I’m in charge for tonight. We would like to try your specialty, the cold bento box. And then we’ll have several small plates, the chicken yakitori, the vegetable tempura, the beginners’ introduction to sashimi and sushi, the buckwheat soba noodles with bonito flakes and mountain vegetables. And the shabu-shabu sampler. Anything I left out that might be a specialty of the chef?”
“Grouper fish flambé, of course,” he said. “The owners caught the grouper themselves last night. And wewent out with Chef early this morning and gathered the seaweed from Smathers Beach.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from snickering: hard to picture the restaurant staff moving among the early spring break revelers, scooping up seaweed.
“Okay, we’ll try that, too.”
“That’s a lot of food,” Palamina said. “Are you sure?”
I nodded and continued to focus on the waiter. “And for our landlubbers, how about a hamburger all the way with truffled fries and the Maryland chicken. And the vegetarian pad thai and an order of Vietnamese spring rolls.” I settled back into my chair, realizing how ordering in front of Palamina made me feel tense—as tight as one of the Cat Man’s felines on a high wire. Almost as if I was auditioning for my job all over again. “I know it seems like more than we can eat, but I take leftovers home or give them to my homeless buddies,” I explained to her while attempting to uncrick my stiff neck. “The main thing is to try a fair sample of the menu. The budget doesn’t allow for multiple visits. Or at least it didn’t under Ava.”
“I see your point,” she said. Though she didn’t sound convinced. “I’m glad to hear you’re thinking about the budget.”
After selecting complimentary beer and sake to go with the dinner, Wally and Palamina began to talk shop about future financial planning for the e-zine. Ray and I wandered out to the deck to admire the night again. Across the harbor, the lights of the restaurants winked, reflecting a swash of stars in the sky. The air smelled like salt and fresh fish, with a dash of diesel fumes to keep us moored in reality. I suspected we were boththinking of the last time I was here with him—I’d been shot and in serious shock. I plucked at the rubber band on my wrist, which Eric had suggested might distract me from unpleasant recurrent memories.
“Your new boss is a little intimidating,” said Ray, his eyebrows drawing together in
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