Maybe you’ve noticed (if there is a you; if so, thanks for reading!) that I haven’t been posting here much. At all. Mostly, I blame it on not eating out a ton, which seems to be a natural result of having a two-year-old. Not that I don’t eat out, I just don’t as frequently as I used to. And when I do eat out, it takes all of my spare time to do that, so I’m a lot less likely to write about it. So if there’s anyone who reads this, I’m sorry. I really do plan on posting here again—it just might be a while.
We ate at Restaurant Eve once before, maybe two months after moving to Virginia. It was our first fine dining experience after the move, and it had been long enough since we’d eaten at a quality restaurant that we wondered if it was really that good, or if we’d just been deprived of good food for too long.
Monday night we found out: Read the rest of this entry »
Jamie was watching some Kevin Bacon as a stockbroker-turned-bike-messenger-turned-stockbroker-again movie from the 80s when I got down from putting Jane in her crib. Maybe watching is the wrong word—the TV was on for noise as she folded clothes. But there’s nothing on at 1:30 on a Saturday, which may be why Kevin Bacon was on. Read the rest of this entry »
Once in a blue moon I’ll eat fried fish. Trying to eat authentic Southern food, I had fried catfish in
South Carolina a couple years ago. I had the fish and chips at Norma’s (fried lobster and Chilean sea bass before I knew Chilean sea bass was in danger of being overfished). And I always remember, when the fishiness and batter overwhelms what should be a light and flaky treat, and when I feel that heaviness inside my stomach, that I really don’t like fried fish. Read the rest of this entry »
It’s probably not fair to review a restaurant more than two weeks after I ate there—by now I’ve forgotten the subtleties that made it what it was. So consider this a broad-brush painting, a placeholder until I eat there again. Read the rest of this entry »
After several hours at the EdVenture Children’s Museum in Columbia, SC, we were hungry. (A side note, not relevant to food, but does an Ernst Hemingway-themed Cuban Cigar night seem like the fund-raised you’d choose for a children’s museum? Me either.) We’d played on a toddler-sized boat, gone down a slide in a giant person, played in Africa and India, milked a plastic cow, slid down a slide in the bubble-snow room, and played a keyboard and musical hopscotch. What we didn’t do was eat lunch. No wonder, around 2:00 pm, it wasn’t just the 15-month-old ready to melt down. Read the rest of this entry »