Hello!
Hope you're enjoying The Food Section.
I realized while reading my gushing blog entry about Harney & Sons's Paris tea that I might endorse a little too heavily in this blog while criticizing too lightly. In fact, I'm afraid that I might read like an advertisement!
I certainly wouldn't turn down advertising money, if someone who produces a product I like might want to pay me for liking it openly. I would also gratefully accept free samples of products to review! But I'll be up-front about it, should that sort of opportunity present itself. So far it hasn't.
But still.
I need to come up with a food that I dislike so that I can provide my readership (myself?) with a negative review. It's only proper, isn't it?
In the meanwhile, to whet your whistle, I do want to point out that while Harney & Sons's Paris tea is lovely when steeped properly, it can become bitter and unpleasant when significantly oversteeped.
I have friends who like oversteeped tea, and that's fine. But I'm only one to happily oversteep mint tisane or other things that don't actually have tea leaves in them. That's just who I am. I don't like oversteeped tea leaves.
There. How's that for a description of an unpleasant food experience? I can show pickiness, just like any writer can!
More reviews are on their way, just you wait.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Harney & Sons "Paris" Tea
My favorite tea!
Being the goof that I am, I like Harney & Sons with the squealing, girlish, socially awkward overenthusiasm normally reserved for my favorite books, music, movies, actors, video games, television programs and the like. I am an actual geek for this tea company.
The tea that I hands-down consume more than any other is their Paris tea. It is my go-to tea.
I have a monumental sweet-tooth. I have a medically dangerous sweet tooth! Part of my mission in life is to try to find calorie-innocuous, sweet things that I can consume for hours on end.
Harney & Sons Paris is a small miracle in this way because it's a nice, hearty, energy-boosting black tea that's also light and sweet enough for me to drink happily without adding cream or sugar. (For everyday eating, I prefer to save my cream and sugar consumption for dessert.)
This is not to say that I love this tea exclusively, of course. Just intensely.
Being the goof that I am, I like Harney & Sons with the squealing, girlish, socially awkward overenthusiasm normally reserved for my favorite books, music, movies, actors, video games, television programs and the like. I am an actual geek for this tea company.
The tea that I hands-down consume more than any other is their Paris tea. It is my go-to tea.
I have a monumental sweet-tooth. I have a medically dangerous sweet tooth! Part of my mission in life is to try to find calorie-innocuous, sweet things that I can consume for hours on end.
Harney & Sons Paris is a small miracle in this way because it's a nice, hearty, energy-boosting black tea that's also light and sweet enough for me to drink happily without adding cream or sugar. (For everyday eating, I prefer to save my cream and sugar consumption for dessert.)
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| I favor sachets so I can bring them to work. They're also convenient for traveling with! |
This is not to say that I love this tea exclusively, of course. Just intensely.
Trader Joe's Peppermint Tea
Inexpensive, hydrating, essentially zero-calorie and tasty. There's something to be said for herbal teas/tisanes.
As peculiar as this is, Trader Joe's store-brand peppermint tea is the first mint tea that I've been able to drink regularly without tiring of the flavor.
Other mint teas that I have tried have had a peculiar, dusty chamomile flavor hiding under the mint that completely throws off the whole experience for me. I'll still drink them and occasionally enjoy them, but I'm not inclined to spend money on them.
This welcome exception--a peppermint tea with a satisfactory, unaccompanied peppermint leaf flavor--is bafflingly under $2/box.
As peculiar as this is, Trader Joe's store-brand peppermint tea is the first mint tea that I've been able to drink regularly without tiring of the flavor.
Other mint teas that I have tried have had a peculiar, dusty chamomile flavor hiding under the mint that completely throws off the whole experience for me. I'll still drink them and occasionally enjoy them, but I'm not inclined to spend money on them.
This welcome exception--a peppermint tea with a satisfactory, unaccompanied peppermint leaf flavor--is bafflingly under $2/box.
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| Extremely Convenient! |
NOT FOOD: Tom's of Maine Fennel Toothpaste
Oh Tom's of Maine, how I love you.
Your aluminum-free deodorants, though not a beverage (I cannot stress this enough), make me feel a little bit safer from the increased risk of Alzheimer's Disease that current medical research indicates may be one result of long-term daily exposure to aluminum in drinking water. (*ahem* Nerd moment.)
But where you really wow me, oh Tom's of Maine, is in your eccentric toothpaste flavors.
I miss your clove toothpaste. I haven't tried your clove-cinnamon toothpaste yet, but I mourn the loss of your clove without cinnamon toothpaste. It had the flavor of a clove cigarette, but with the tooth-cleaning, harmless-to-lungs benefits of being toothpaste. While clove-flavored toothpaste may not give me the "hey, she's smoking something!" cred that only smoking something can bestow, I can't care because it made brushing my teeth more interesting and pleasant. This is no small mercy given how dull and unpleasant the world otherwise feels when I first wake up. I care a great deal about the flavor of my toothpaste.
But I digress.
While moping about the toothpaste isle, failing to find the discontinued clove toothpaste, I happened upon a tiny miracle: Your fennel-flavored toothpaste!
It tastes like fennel. I've eaten at least a dozen bulbs of fennel this year, maybe closer to two dozen bulbs. I love fennel.
What IS Fennel?
Fennel is a bulb that is sometimes sold (at least in American grocery stores) under the name "anise bulb," even though anise comes from a different plant. The flavor is remarkably similar to anise and similar to black licorice. It has a strange, intense sweetness that I find is perhaps even stronger as an aftertaste than it is while the plant is being eaten. Like mint, fennel smells clean and pleasant on the breath. In fact, part of why I enjoy fennel is the pleasant flavor that my breath adopts. This is also one understandable reason why I love it as a flavor of toothpaste.
Although the round bulb at the base of the stalk, rather than the stalk itself, is the most commonly eaten part of fennel, the consistency and appearance of that bulb is quite similar to celery. Although otherwise very similar in texture, fennel is meatier, thicker and less stringy than celery. (All pleasant differences, in my opinion.) I personally like to slice fennel bulbs into strips, and then eat those strips raw and without sauce or garnish. The meat of the vegetable is crisp and hydrating, and I enjoy the flavor very much. I recommend trying it at least once, if only for the experience.
Daffy Gushing About How Cool the Fennel Toothpaste Is:
This toothpaste is so curious and delicious that it deserves mention in this blog, despite not actually being food. That's right, I don't eat toothpaste and I don't consider it a kind of food.
Like, I dare anybody to buy a tube or a sampler or whatever to try this toothpaste. Seriously, like, wow.
Or, IF you happen to be someone whom I've known for years and might share toothpaste with, I dare you to ask me to bring it with me the next time I come over to your house, so that we can brush our teeth together and marvel at what a strange and marvelous product this is. I dare you. It is so awesome.
Thank you, Tom's of Maine. You have made me very happy.
Your aluminum-free deodorants, though not a beverage (I cannot stress this enough), make me feel a little bit safer from the increased risk of Alzheimer's Disease that current medical research indicates may be one result of long-term daily exposure to aluminum in drinking water. (*ahem* Nerd moment.)
But where you really wow me, oh Tom's of Maine, is in your eccentric toothpaste flavors.
I miss your clove toothpaste. I haven't tried your clove-cinnamon toothpaste yet, but I mourn the loss of your clove without cinnamon toothpaste. It had the flavor of a clove cigarette, but with the tooth-cleaning, harmless-to-lungs benefits of being toothpaste. While clove-flavored toothpaste may not give me the "hey, she's smoking something!" cred that only smoking something can bestow, I can't care because it made brushing my teeth more interesting and pleasant. This is no small mercy given how dull and unpleasant the world otherwise feels when I first wake up. I care a great deal about the flavor of my toothpaste.
But I digress.
While moping about the toothpaste isle, failing to find the discontinued clove toothpaste, I happened upon a tiny miracle: Your fennel-flavored toothpaste!
 |
| Fennel Toothpaste |
What IS Fennel?
Fennel is a bulb that is sometimes sold (at least in American grocery stores) under the name "anise bulb," even though anise comes from a different plant. The flavor is remarkably similar to anise and similar to black licorice. It has a strange, intense sweetness that I find is perhaps even stronger as an aftertaste than it is while the plant is being eaten. Like mint, fennel smells clean and pleasant on the breath. In fact, part of why I enjoy fennel is the pleasant flavor that my breath adopts. This is also one understandable reason why I love it as a flavor of toothpaste.
Although the round bulb at the base of the stalk, rather than the stalk itself, is the most commonly eaten part of fennel, the consistency and appearance of that bulb is quite similar to celery. Although otherwise very similar in texture, fennel is meatier, thicker and less stringy than celery. (All pleasant differences, in my opinion.) I personally like to slice fennel bulbs into strips, and then eat those strips raw and without sauce or garnish. The meat of the vegetable is crisp and hydrating, and I enjoy the flavor very much. I recommend trying it at least once, if only for the experience.
Daffy Gushing About How Cool the Fennel Toothpaste Is:
This toothpaste is so curious and delicious that it deserves mention in this blog, despite not actually being food. That's right, I don't eat toothpaste and I don't consider it a kind of food.
Like, I dare anybody to buy a tube or a sampler or whatever to try this toothpaste. Seriously, like, wow.
Or, IF you happen to be someone whom I've known for years and might share toothpaste with, I dare you to ask me to bring it with me the next time I come over to your house, so that we can brush our teeth together and marvel at what a strange and marvelous product this is. I dare you. It is so awesome.
Thank you, Tom's of Maine. You have made me very happy.
The Mystery Snack
Some of my friends have already become acquainted with my love for whatever this is, when I first discovered it last month. Now I hope to share this love with the rest of the world.
My doctor's office offers little prepackaged snacks in her waiting room, usually with more Asian characters than English letters on them. Her office is a few blocks away from an Uwajamaya, a deservedly popular Asian supermarket, and this is likely where the snacks come from.
My doctor, for the record, is wonderful. She's compassionate, coaches patients in effective home remedies when appropriate, and offers inexpensive rates and payment plans for uninsured and low-income people. "Wonderful" might even be an understatement. For people living in the Eastside Seattle area, I highly recommend becoming her patient, particularly for those of us who are young, hurt by the recession or are otherwise living hand-to-mouth.
But I digress. I first ate the Mystery Snack in my doctor's waiting room and I was so impressed with it that I quickly pocketed the empty wrapper so that I could track down more.
I brought the wrapper to the local Uwajamaya and was told that it was "like a cracker" and from the brand ABC. Despite being unable to read or learn the name of the product, I was able to special-order a bag of them for myself. (They weren't in stock in the store at the time and seem to be a somewhat odd product in Uwajamaya.)
The Flavor and Consistency:
The outer layer of the Mystery Snack is greasy, crispy and indulgent in a way that easily satisfies a craving for something deep-fried. It's superior to Cheetos, but is not entirely dissimilar. There's a pleasant carbohydrate quality to this layer, making it the sort of thing that I want to reach for first when hit with a particularly strong hunger pang.
The filling, whatever it is, melts in my mouth faster and creamier than a meringue cookie or freeze-dried ice cream, but these are the foods that it evokes. The filling is sweet, but it doesn't taste exactly like a dessert. It crumbles beautifully and quickly when bitten into, as though the outer crispy coating is needed to keep the center from turning into powder.
It's hard to put my finger on exactly what is so refreshing about this Mystery Snack. It shares many qualities with more readily available and less satisfactory American junk foods--greasiness, crunchiness, ease of storage and transport--but it's creamier, heartier and doesn't taste so intensely of fried corn. Perhaps it's the buckwheat? The barley? The beans? Some of the ingredients on the list help me better understand the substantial charm of this Mystery Snack.
The Ingredient List
Lotus seed, corn, job's tear, buckwheat, wheat, runner bean, mung bean, red bean, black bean, barley, black glutinous rice, brown rice, vegetable oil (palm oil), sugar, yolk powder, non-fat milk powder, soy sauce powder, glucose.
The Mystery of the Name... Solved!
Tiny English print on the front of the packaging calls it an Egg Yolk Rice Roll, but Googling this didn't produce any images of the product. The back of the packaging, in tiny letters above the ingredient list, proclaims the official name of the product to be "ABC Rice Roll-Egg Yolk Flavor," but Googling this didn't produce any images of the product either.
Despite its appeal, the Mystery Snack isn't being marketed to an English-language audience enough to even be found through a quick Google search! I have no idea what's up with that, because the Mystery Snack rules and there's a huge English-language snack market out there, just waiting to be formally introduced to them.
I will special-order more as soon as I run out, and I will do my best to ration what I have until my next paycheck.
My doctor's office offers little prepackaged snacks in her waiting room, usually with more Asian characters than English letters on them. Her office is a few blocks away from an Uwajamaya, a deservedly popular Asian supermarket, and this is likely where the snacks come from.
My doctor, for the record, is wonderful. She's compassionate, coaches patients in effective home remedies when appropriate, and offers inexpensive rates and payment plans for uninsured and low-income people. "Wonderful" might even be an understatement. For people living in the Eastside Seattle area, I highly recommend becoming her patient, particularly for those of us who are young, hurt by the recession or are otherwise living hand-to-mouth.
But I digress. I first ate the Mystery Snack in my doctor's waiting room and I was so impressed with it that I quickly pocketed the empty wrapper so that I could track down more.
I brought the wrapper to the local Uwajamaya and was told that it was "like a cracker" and from the brand ABC. Despite being unable to read or learn the name of the product, I was able to special-order a bag of them for myself. (They weren't in stock in the store at the time and seem to be a somewhat odd product in Uwajamaya.)
 |
| The Crunchy Goodness |
 |
| The Mysterious, Pleasant Packaging |
 |
| Mystery Snack: Unwrapped |
The Flavor and Consistency:
The outer layer of the Mystery Snack is greasy, crispy and indulgent in a way that easily satisfies a craving for something deep-fried. It's superior to Cheetos, but is not entirely dissimilar. There's a pleasant carbohydrate quality to this layer, making it the sort of thing that I want to reach for first when hit with a particularly strong hunger pang.
The filling, whatever it is, melts in my mouth faster and creamier than a meringue cookie or freeze-dried ice cream, but these are the foods that it evokes. The filling is sweet, but it doesn't taste exactly like a dessert. It crumbles beautifully and quickly when bitten into, as though the outer crispy coating is needed to keep the center from turning into powder.
It's hard to put my finger on exactly what is so refreshing about this Mystery Snack. It shares many qualities with more readily available and less satisfactory American junk foods--greasiness, crunchiness, ease of storage and transport--but it's creamier, heartier and doesn't taste so intensely of fried corn. Perhaps it's the buckwheat? The barley? The beans? Some of the ingredients on the list help me better understand the substantial charm of this Mystery Snack.
The Ingredient List
Lotus seed, corn, job's tear, buckwheat, wheat, runner bean, mung bean, red bean, black bean, barley, black glutinous rice, brown rice, vegetable oil (palm oil), sugar, yolk powder, non-fat milk powder, soy sauce powder, glucose.
The Mystery of the Name... Solved!
Tiny English print on the front of the packaging calls it an Egg Yolk Rice Roll, but Googling this didn't produce any images of the product. The back of the packaging, in tiny letters above the ingredient list, proclaims the official name of the product to be "ABC Rice Roll-Egg Yolk Flavor," but Googling this didn't produce any images of the product either.
Despite its appeal, the Mystery Snack isn't being marketed to an English-language audience enough to even be found through a quick Google search! I have no idea what's up with that, because the Mystery Snack rules and there's a huge English-language snack market out there, just waiting to be formally introduced to them.
I will special-order more as soon as I run out, and I will do my best to ration what I have until my next paycheck.
Nonfat Milk With Grape Juice In It
What better way to follow up a piece about The Georgian's monumentally classy three course meal than to report upon my own vulgar breakfast at home, this restful Saturday morning.
Earlier, to compliment some slices of room-temperature pizza left over from last night, I decided to find out what would happen if I poured some grape juice into my glass of nonfat milk. The results were both delicious and tolerable. (My husband's overreaction of revulsion? Priceless. Sometimes I feel like I live in an old comedy movie.)
The Culprits:
The Results:
The Conclusion:
I will certainly do this again, and not just because I like having Odd Couple moments with my husband. Mixing a fruit-flavored sweetener with a dairy base is not so unusual. Italian cream sodas and many frozen desserts already do this.
I normally don't buy grape juice because I try to stick to low-sugar beverages (like water, milk or unsweetened tea) in an attempt to balance out my significant candy habit and shameful, lifelong affair with white flour. But I came into possession of this carton of grape juice under unusual circumstances, and now that it's mine I want to find ways to consume the entire carton of juice without throwing myself totally off. This milk mixture suits me, and I'll likely have a few more glasses of it today.
I wonder how else I can use grape juice as a sweetener?
Shaved ice and homemade popsicles are the first things to pop into my head, but if I have time I might also try to reduce and thicken it to make a heavy syrup.
I wonder if that syrup would compliment baked apples or dry cake? I wonder if the syrup would make a welcome, unexpected addition to a salad vinaigrette? (I like mixing salad greens with sweet flavors--I prefer sweetness to acidity.)
If grape juice doesn't curdle melting chocolate (I'm pleased to discover that it didn't curdle the milk), I see the possibility of an unusual ice cream sauce in my future.
It's all worth trying, but who knows what the weekend will bring?
Earlier, to compliment some slices of room-temperature pizza left over from last night, I decided to find out what would happen if I poured some grape juice into my glass of nonfat milk. The results were both delicious and tolerable. (My husband's overreaction of revulsion? Priceless. Sometimes I feel like I live in an old comedy movie.)
The Culprits:
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| Nonfat milk from Costco |
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| Welch's Concord Grape Juice |
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| Beverages always look pretty when viewed from the top down. |
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| Purple! |
The Conclusion:
I will certainly do this again, and not just because I like having Odd Couple moments with my husband. Mixing a fruit-flavored sweetener with a dairy base is not so unusual. Italian cream sodas and many frozen desserts already do this.
I normally don't buy grape juice because I try to stick to low-sugar beverages (like water, milk or unsweetened tea) in an attempt to balance out my significant candy habit and shameful, lifelong affair with white flour. But I came into possession of this carton of grape juice under unusual circumstances, and now that it's mine I want to find ways to consume the entire carton of juice without throwing myself totally off. This milk mixture suits me, and I'll likely have a few more glasses of it today.
I wonder how else I can use grape juice as a sweetener?
Shaved ice and homemade popsicles are the first things to pop into my head, but if I have time I might also try to reduce and thicken it to make a heavy syrup.
I wonder if that syrup would compliment baked apples or dry cake? I wonder if the syrup would make a welcome, unexpected addition to a salad vinaigrette? (I like mixing salad greens with sweet flavors--I prefer sweetness to acidity.)
If grape juice doesn't curdle melting chocolate (I'm pleased to discover that it didn't curdle the milk), I see the possibility of an unusual ice cream sauce in my future.
It's all worth trying, but who knows what the weekend will bring?
The Georgian's Three Course Dinner
Thanks to one of the best LivingSocial deals in the Seattle area EVER, I had the pleasure of taking two out-of-town friends out to dinner in the posh Georgian this Wednesday, despite my being a poor person.
If I'd known at the time that I was to become a food blogger three days later, I would have taken more photos. But because I am a food geek, I did take a couple:
*I used the flash because the lighting in the restaurant was pleasantly low. Unfortunately, the photos do not do the food proper justice. Please use your imagination to picture the food more attractively, and more accurately, in your mind than I picture it on this page.*
Not pictured, but deserving endorsement:
The Georgian black and white chocolate soufflé, served with crème anglaise.
Rich and satisfying, crunchy and soft, this soufflé was so wonderful that despite my normally severe little budget (too severe for a full meal), I intend to return to this restaurant for many small celebrations, solely to order the dessert.
Not pictured, but worth mention:
An amuse bouche of duck foie gras was served between the salad and main course. It was not on the menu, and was not anticipated when I ordered my meal. Foie gras, like veal, is one of the meats that I would not order for myself, for moral reasons I'm more inclined to examine in The Beatific Gonzette than I am here. (I did ask the waiter later for clarification about whether the sacrificial ducks were force-fed or simply allowed the opportunity to voluntarily gorge themselves into illness--a common problem with all species when access to food is limitless--and was told that the ducks were force-fed twice daily in the traditional way. Ouch.)
Still, not being one to turn down a gift, I ate the amuse bouche in the spirit of cross-cultural respect and curiosity. It was, for better or worse, delicious. Not necessarily worth all the suffering in the world, but I can see why the flavor is a popular one.
Being unpious but not without remorse, I doubt that I will ever specifically order or request foie gras, but I have learned that if I am presented with it by surprise under the right conditions, I will most likely eat it. (Still, the next time I find myself in a classically French restaurant, I intend to inquire politely whether a vegetarian amuse bouche is available. Although I'm not vegetarian, I am a fan of plants, and have a craving for the "opposite of foie gras" now.)
Before I wrap up this blog entry, I do want to comment on the customer service and ambiance. My friends and I ended up changing our reservation three times in 24 hours, we arrived eccentrically under-dressed and we requested a specific table instead of just taking the table we were initially shown to. In spite of this, absolutely every single member of The Georgian's staff maintained such outward graciousness that I am left with the impression that the people who work there are genuinely kindhearted, friendly human beings. Either that, or they're skilled actors. Or both? Perhaps both. Whatever the case, I was very happy with the service.
The interior design of the place was extremely pleasing, too! I remember a high ceiling, I remember tall windows, I remember potted palm plants in elevated positions throughout the dining room, I remember orchids. I commented to a friend that I felt like I was in an episode of Jeeves and Wooster. I was given a refreshing sensation similar to time travel. If I were wealthy, I would frequent the place for the ambiance almost as much as for the food.
What I learned from this experience:
1. Leeks are brilliant.
2. Chocolate soufflé is double-brilliant.
3. I should buy a time machine.
4. If I have to change my reservation multiple times, Wednesday night seems like a good night of the week to do so.
5. The Georgian is worth it.
If I'd known at the time that I was to become a food blogger three days later, I would have taken more photos. But because I am a food geek, I did take a couple:
*I used the flash because the lighting in the restaurant was pleasantly low. Unfortunately, the photos do not do the food proper justice. Please use your imagination to picture the food more attractively, and more accurately, in your mind than I picture it on this page.*
 |
| The mesclun green salad, served with a white balsamic vinaigrette, vegetable chips and shaved parmesan cheese. I believe that the vegetable chips on top were paper-thin slices of heirloom tomatoes that had been dried. The flavor was similar to apple chips and complimented the vinaigrette. I was very happy. |
 |
| Seared scallops, melted young leeks and truffle slices served over crisp potatoes in a housemade bacon butter sauce. It was the sort of buttery, heavy, lovely meal best nibbled over hours of conversation. I am in love with the leeks. |
Not pictured, but deserving endorsement:
The Georgian black and white chocolate soufflé, served with crème anglaise.
Rich and satisfying, crunchy and soft, this soufflé was so wonderful that despite my normally severe little budget (too severe for a full meal), I intend to return to this restaurant for many small celebrations, solely to order the dessert.
Not pictured, but worth mention:
An amuse bouche of duck foie gras was served between the salad and main course. It was not on the menu, and was not anticipated when I ordered my meal. Foie gras, like veal, is one of the meats that I would not order for myself, for moral reasons I'm more inclined to examine in The Beatific Gonzette than I am here. (I did ask the waiter later for clarification about whether the sacrificial ducks were force-fed or simply allowed the opportunity to voluntarily gorge themselves into illness--a common problem with all species when access to food is limitless--and was told that the ducks were force-fed twice daily in the traditional way. Ouch.)
Still, not being one to turn down a gift, I ate the amuse bouche in the spirit of cross-cultural respect and curiosity. It was, for better or worse, delicious. Not necessarily worth all the suffering in the world, but I can see why the flavor is a popular one.
Being unpious but not without remorse, I doubt that I will ever specifically order or request foie gras, but I have learned that if I am presented with it by surprise under the right conditions, I will most likely eat it. (Still, the next time I find myself in a classically French restaurant, I intend to inquire politely whether a vegetarian amuse bouche is available. Although I'm not vegetarian, I am a fan of plants, and have a craving for the "opposite of foie gras" now.)
Before I wrap up this blog entry, I do want to comment on the customer service and ambiance. My friends and I ended up changing our reservation three times in 24 hours, we arrived eccentrically under-dressed and we requested a specific table instead of just taking the table we were initially shown to. In spite of this, absolutely every single member of The Georgian's staff maintained such outward graciousness that I am left with the impression that the people who work there are genuinely kindhearted, friendly human beings. Either that, or they're skilled actors. Or both? Perhaps both. Whatever the case, I was very happy with the service.
The interior design of the place was extremely pleasing, too! I remember a high ceiling, I remember tall windows, I remember potted palm plants in elevated positions throughout the dining room, I remember orchids. I commented to a friend that I felt like I was in an episode of Jeeves and Wooster. I was given a refreshing sensation similar to time travel. If I were wealthy, I would frequent the place for the ambiance almost as much as for the food.
What I learned from this experience:
1. Leeks are brilliant.
2. Chocolate soufflé is double-brilliant.
3. I should buy a time machine.
4. If I have to change my reservation multiple times, Wednesday night seems like a good night of the week to do so.
5. The Georgian is worth it.
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