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Sant Ambroeus and More

November 8, 2012 Leave a comment

I’m trying to work my way through the backlog of topics from our just-completed trip to New York. Let me give a rundown of some of the restaurants where we ate.

We arrived early Saturday morning. I was hoping to eat at Sant Ambroeus that evening, but we dropped in on our way up to visit my parents before noon and learned that they’re first opening would be at 10:30 PM. A little late. Moreover, thanks to the aftereffects of Hurricane Sandy, displaced or powerless Manhattanites would be seeking dinner all over, so reservations would be hard to come by.

1. Orsay. Thanks to the assistance of our concierge, and at his recommendation, we were able to get a table at Orsay, a casual French bistro on Lexington, not far from the hotel. It was not too crowded when we walked in, but packed within minutes. (I would link to it, but the site isn’t working now.) The four of us were squeezed up against nearby tables as well as the crowd squeezing through the front door, with a wicked chill coming through when both sets of doors were held open. But we had a table, and food. Speaking of which, what the heck did I eat? I have no idea. I think I shared Gail’s profiteroles for dessert. Maybe soup to start. Oh, the hanger streak with frites. Gail had it too. And we shared a side order of grilled asparagus. I chose the béarnaise sauce. Gail went with the bordelaise sauce. Pretty tasty.

2. Sant Ambroeus. Sunday we were able to get a table at Sant Ambroeus. My affection for the place may be larger than it merits, but I love it nonetheless. One passes through a front area that is part coffee shop, part bakery, part gelato store. Or, now that I see their self-description, I should say restaurant, catering, gelateria, pasticceria, confetteria. In the rear is the restaurant, a small, elegant space with a large waitstaff. Check out the dinner menu here.

Among the primi, the tagliatelle alla bolognese was awfully tempting, but I was determined to go milanese style, so I chose the risotto alla milanese, or classic saffron milanese risotto, hoping Gail would let me try her tagliatelle. Likewise, the evening’s lamb chop special sounded spectacular, and our waiter was pushing it hard, Gail chose it. But I stuck with the costoletto alla milanese, or breaded veal chop milanese, pictured above, as did my sister and brother-in-law. It came with mashed potato, mixed vegetable, and on a side plate, arugula.

I couldn’t have been happier. I could have this meal every day. Well, I might have my fill of the risotto after the second day and switch to the superb tagliatelle from then on. But I’m capable of eating veal or chicken milanese daily, as I demonstrated when we were in Italy three years ago this very week.

For dessert, they bring a tray to the table with all their items of the day. I think Gail chose some sort of mousse concoction, which I tasted.

3. E.A.T. Monday evening, Gail and I were on our own. We headed up Madison to a perennial favorite, Eli Zabar’s E.A.T. We’ve eaten there many times, and eaten E.A.T. takeout even more often. Usually it’s crowded. Monday we had the place nearly to ourselves. People trickled in over the hour and a half that we were there, but it was peaceful to the end.

I’m not too original. I had the meat loaf with fresh tomato sauce. When it came, I realized it’s exactly what I ordered the last time we had dinner there. It’s a whole meatloaf in miniature rather than slices of a large meatloaf, complete with its own interior egg. This was after starting with a bowl of potato leek soup. Tempted though we always are to share an order of potato pancakes, we resisted this time. For dessert we each had one of their shortbread heart cookies. A simple meal, and perfect. Plus relaxing.

4. Cafe Boulud. This is the hotel restaurant. We had breakfast there Saturday morning after our overnight flight from Seattle, going down with my sister and brother-in-law after first going up to visit them in their room on arrival. At the other end, the four of us had lunch there Tuesday just before Gail and I headed to JFK for our flight home.

Cafe Boulud is part of the Daniel Boulud empire. Their lunch menu is simple. There’s a prix fixe selection on the left, a few selections in each of four categories on the right. You can see the menu online (no direct link), where you’ll find that the categories are French classics and country cooking, fall flavors, inspired by the farmer’s market, and world cuisine. I went with the prix fixe menu, as did my sister and brother-in-law. One of the two appetizer options was a frisée salad, which is what I selected. For the main dish, I chose the chestnut ravioli with spaghetti squash. Not the sort of thing I would ordinarily select, but it did sound interesting. The salad was superb. The ravioli was … interesting. Very rich. I enjoyed trying it. Next time I might go for the pan seared duck breast on the fall flavors menu, with Minnesota wild rice, brussels sprouts, apple cider, and sauce albufera.

Dessert. Let’s see. There were two choices on the prix fixe menu. One was some leche cake thing. The other was a chocolate mousse with passion fruit, accompanied by passion fruit sorbet. Gail and I split that. Good.

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Categories: Restaurants

Dumplings

October 27, 2012 1 comment

The NYT food section three days ago had an article on some of the options for dumpling lovers in the city, along with a slideshow and the video I’ve embedded above. If you missed the video, I recommend you click on it and watch. It features the work of Joe Ng at RedFarm in the West Village and Dale Talde at Talde in Park Slope. (The slideshow is worth a look too.)

From the article:

In Park Slope, Dale Talde has engineered one of the most hunted-down bar snacks of 2012, a beer-friendly, street-cart collision known as the “pretzel dumpling.”

Inside, there’s some slightly cured pork. Outside, a process of boiling, brushing, pan-searing and baking creates a skin with the crust and chew of a hot pretzel. The dipping sauce echoes what you might get at a deli, or in a bag full of Chinese takeout: strong mustard.

For Mr. Talde, who grew up in Chicago and comes from a Filipino background, the goal was to summon a dish that represented a spirited take on what’s Asian and what’s American. “For us, it was a perfect way of blending the two,” he said.

If any place embodies the city’s neo-dumpling ethos, though, it’s RedFarm, whose West Village location has already spawned a forthcoming Upper West Side spinoff. At RedFarm, there are dumplings fashioned to look like Pac-Man characters and horseshoe crabs. There’s also an egg roll stuffed with pastrami.

“I call them whimsical,” said Ed Schoenfeld, the veteran restaurateur behind RedFarm. Spend an afternoon touring the kitchen, and Mr. Schoenfeld will rhapsodize about the artistry of the chef, Joe Ng. Those batter-crusted crabs might look like a cute gag, but there’s culinary precision (and greenmarket produce) inside them.

Pete Wells reviewed RedFarm back in March, giving it high praise and two stars.

It won’t be easy. They have plaintive black sesame-seed eyes, the dumplings at RedFarm, giving them the appearance of strange, adorable characters in a Miyazaki film. These flat-bellied duck and crab dumplings look like a school of wide-mouthed catfish; the pale-green ones, filled with shrimp and snow-pea leaves, like moon-faced tadpoles. Over here are Blinky, Pinky, Inky and Clyde, spectral shrimp dumplings in blue, pink, yellow and white, chasing a Pac-Man made of sweet potato tempura with a blueberry for an eye.

Ignore their plaintive stares, and stare at them instead. Look how rounded they are, how their fillings weigh against their glossy wrappers like the summer juice pressing against the skin of a plum. They look firm, ripe, ready. You can tell that they’re going to be good.

But you don’t know how good they really are, and how good RedFarm can be, until you try one. And then, plaintive stares or no, you begin devouring these bundles of delight one by one.

RedFarm, in the West Village, is a collaboration between one of New York’s greatest Chinese chefs, Joe Ng, and one of its greatest Chinese restaurateurs, Ed Schoenfeld. Only one, Mr. Ng, is Chinese by birth. Mr. Schoenfeld is Chinese by calling, a Brooklyn-born Jew who long ago heard an inner voice urging him to bring better kung pao chicken to the people of Manhattan.

They have several clever ideas at RedFarm. First, the menu has been tailored for a Western palate, with none of the bland and slippery specialties that non-Chinese eaters find so enigmatic. It also seems designed for the age of Yelp, when the entire world can be split into either Nothing Special or OMG. RedFarm’s cooking runs hard toward OMG.

[snip]

For sensations like this, people have stood in line, and stood and stood, since the restaurant opened last August. RedFarm belongs to that post-Momofuku generation of restaurants made possible by the discovery that people will wait in line, open their wallets and put up with a reasonable amount of discomfort if the cooking consistently vaults above usual levels of intensity. No reservations are taken, except for large parties.

The décor, to stretch a definition, is provided mostly by potted plants and by Mr. Schoenfeld’s owlish eyeglasses, color-coordinated with his sweaters. Cartons of beer and liquor are stowed above the tables on raw-lumber platforms. (What design budget there was seems to have gone into buying one of those highly accomplished Japanese toilets.)

In exchange, all the flavors have been turned up as high as they can go. The dishes can be salty, or sweet, or rich. Often they are all three at once. At RedFarm, the food goes to 11.

The review has a slideshow too, also worth study.

We’ll be in New York in just days, but with limited time, so that part about waiting in line may mean we won’t get down to RedFarm. Next time.

Categories: Food, Restaurants

DeMarco Restaurant

September 18, 2012 Leave a comment

[Photos from Yesterday’s Island]

I mentioned last night that before the memories of our recent Nantucket trip completely fade, I still hope to write about our Nantucket Historical Association house tour and our dinner at DeMarco. Here’s my DeMarco post.

DeMarco is a traditional Italian restaurant with a limited menu of classic dishes, serving Nantucket for 33 years. It seems to come in for criticism for not changing, but what it does it does well, so in its case, not changing may be good. A month ago, when Gail and I were reviewing which restaurants we might wish to visit, I came across this feature on DeMarco from an early June issue of Yesterday’s Island. Its opening:

Don DeMarco has done it again!

Just a few weeks ago, DeMarco Restaurant on India Street opened the door on its 33rd season as the island restaurant to go to for fine Northern Italian cuisine. Fresh, local ingredients are emphasized in dishes that are creatively prepared, artistically presented, and absolutely delicious down to every vegetable and accompaniment.

Four years had passed since our last meal there. We decided it was time to return. And so we did, two weeks ago tonight.

Two of their classic dishes are the Pomodoro Verde e Rosso Fritto Capre, or Fried green and ugly tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, basil, aged balsamic, and the Boscaiola, or “Badly Cut” fresh pasta, wild mushrooms, prosciutto, tomato, sage, cream. One can get a half order of the pasta as an appetizer. Already set on having scallops as her main dish, Gail couldn’t decide which of these two to start with.

It turns out that that article last June included a discussion and photos of several dishes. Had I re-read what it said before we went to dinner, we would have been in no doubt that one of us had to order the tomatoes.

One of our all-time favorites at DeMarco is The Fried Green and Ugly Tomatoes — a luscious stack of sliced, juicy red tomato and breaded and fried green tomato with basil, fresh mozzarella, and aged balsamic to make the flavors sing. Our opinion is shared by so many that DeMarco would risk an uprising if he ever took it off the menu! This appetizer should be on everyone’s list of “must-haves” on Nantucket.

But I hadn’t re-read it, and instead urged Gail to order the equally famous Boscaiola. She had it last time and loved it. I went with the Tre Lattuga: Bartlett Farm lettuces, shaved vegetables, Pecorino Toscano, red wine vinaigrette. (Bartlett’s Farm, on the island, supplies many restaurants with their produce.) Both were great, but the Boscaiola is rich, and Gail decided she might have done better by starting with the tomatoes.

I had the Pasta Bolognese as my main dish. Although I don’t see it on their online menu, it’s one of their standards. And it uses the same pasta as in Gail’s Boscaiola. I couldn’t have been happier. The sauce was rich, tasty, excellent, and the wide-noodle pasta is perfection.

For dessert, Gail chose the tiramisu, also featured in the Yesterday’s Island article, and deservedly so. I had a sorbet, the details of which escape me. It was red, or purplish-red. Some kind of berry. Delicious.

Over the course of the evening, we heard bits of conversation at a couple of neighboring tables — plus a conversation between an arriving customer and Don — that suggested his thirty-three year run was about to end. Soon. Like, that week. The next night, someone staying at the inn with us, on learning we had eaten there, said that indeed they were closing. Don was retiring. Yet, even today, when I look at the website, there’s not a clue that Demarco has closed, or will soon.

On the other hand, someone posted the following on the DeMarco Facebook page two Saturdays ago:

It is realy hard for me to write this down, but I guess it is my responsibility and Jareds to let you know that DeMarco Restaurant is closing forever this sunday. After 33 years since its a restaurant, DeMarco became a home for soo many people and part of their life. I believe that we should all say thank you Don and Terese for this experience that you gave us. Thank you for the memories that we will always bring with us wherever we go next. I believe that many of you found at DeMarco friends that they can count on for the rest of their life, because DeMarco was never just a job but a family. For all of you who know someone that is not in this page please let them know that DeMarco is closing. Cheers for all of you out there from the last crew of the restaurant. I hope we will see each other again

So apparently they closed the day we left the island. Good thing we went when we did. We only regret that we didn’t go more often. We’ll miss it.

Categories: Restaurants, Travel

Company of the Cauldron

September 11, 2012 Leave a comment

Two days ago, as we were about to depart from Nantucket, I wrote about our dinner last Friday at Ventuno. The next night we ate at Company of the Cauldron, which is just around the corner. It is equally deserving of a post.

I explained last year that despite walking past regularly on previous visits, I was never curious to try it. Something about the darkened room, the odd name, the people crowded together in the small space enjoying themselves too much. And the nightly fixed menu, everyone arriving at the same time and eating the same meal, one I feared might not suit my taste.

Truth is, the fixed menu issue isn’t a big deal. They post the menu for the coming week each Friday, online and onsite. No surprises. Gail insisted last year that we try it, and when we did I wrote, “Why oh why did we wait so long to eat there?” We didn’t wait so long again. I grabbed a printed copy of the menu as we were walking by last week and we decided to spend our last evening of this year’s stay there.

This time, I was facing into the room rather than the wall, allowing me to get a much better sense of just how beautifully furnished that dark room is. Fortunately, I don’t have to work too hard to capture it in words. I can turn to Malcolm Wilson, restaurant reviewer for Cape Cod Times, who is quoted at the restaurant website.

This little Nantucket restaurant has charm written all over it — from its dark red, ivy-framed, single-story front, pierced by small-paned windows, to its darkly handsome, romantic-as-a-novel interior.

The inside’s post-and-beam and rough plaster construction seems more like a stage set than interior design. And careful decoration gives Company of the Cauldron one of the prettiest dining rooms around.

Copper pans hang on the walls, along with a full-rigged half model ship. Pie-plate sconces are set with flickering candles, and, overhead, there are pierced antique tin lanterns and large, gracefully curved chandeliers for soft lighting.

Antique ship paintings on the walls and boat models hanging from the ceilings seem secure in their antiquity. Tables are covered with flowered cloths, and there are real candles in brass holders and tea roses in vases.

In addition to the candle sconces and the hanging fixtures, each table has its own candle, providing enchanting, more than sufficient lighting of food and companions. As for the name, the website provides the explanation:

Lorenzo The Magnificent, born April 8, 1449, died April 9, 1492 was one of the leaders of the Republic of Florence, and went on to become the most important Medici of the Italian Renaissance. While better known for his political achievements, his interests included gastronomy. Waverley Root tells us that the first cooking academy since Roman times was established in Florence. It was called the Company of the Cauldron; each member had to create a new dish for every meeting. Lorenzo supposedly composed songs honoring the chefs and olive oil makers.

Here is the menu for the dinner we had:

Jumbo lump crab cake with a chard corn salad, basil and tomatoes.

Twin tournedos of tenderloin with two sauces: green peppercorn au poivre and red onion demi over citrus thyme, fingerling potatoes.

Vanilla bean panna cotta with cassis and passion fruit curd and shortbread crumble.

Especially noteworthy is the high quality of all ingredients. The corn salad was stunning. I could have made a meal of it alone. Every little morsel was special. Likewise, the beef was as fine as any I can remember having in a long time. As for the panna cotta, there must have been a last-minute change. We had lemon curd, with some other fruit flavor, some berry. I can’t remember. No matter. I couldn’t have been happier. I just wish we didn’t have to wait so long for our next visit.

Categories: Restaurants, Travel

Ventuno

September 9, 2012 Leave a comment

In past years, when we’ve come to Nantucket, I have written long posts about our daytime activities and our dinners. As we sit now awaiting a light lunch and the ride to the airport, it’s evident that I won’t be doing that this time. Probably just as well. Nonetheless, there are a few items I want to touch on. I’ll do so in individual posts. This one is devoted to Ventuno, the restaurant where we had dinner two nights ago.

I have written before (here, for instance, two years ago) about our favorite Nantucket restaurant, 21 Federal, and about my disappointment on learning last summer that it had closed. The restaurant’s name is simply its address, Federal Street being one of the central streets of Nantucket’s town. The restaurant that took its place is Italian in orientation, and gave recognition to the old name by taking as its own the Italian word for twenty-one: Ventuno. It was set up by Gabriel Frasca and Amanda Lydon, the couple who already ran another Nantucket institution, the nearby restaurant Straight Wharf.

When we tried Ventuno last September, we were delighted. And we found ourselves in good company, as John Kerry and Teresa Heinz Kelly took a table across the way. On planning our time on Nantucket this year, we put Ventuno at the top of our list of restaurants to eat at. Once again we were delighted, and more. It was our favorite among many wonderful meals this past week.

The restaurant is an old house with several small rooms. We sat in the far corner of the back room, a lovely space. In addition to the menu items — you can see the online menu here; Friday’s version was similar in conception, though different in detail — the waiter told us about two specials built around a pig the restaurant had raised on an island farm and now slaughtered. I forget the pig-based appetizer. The main dish was pork loin with farro verde, island tomatoes, and island lettuce.

We decided to share three appetizers: the polpette (five small meatballs in a tomato sauce), the chilled tomato soup with (according to Gail’s memory) almond creme and pecrorino, and a half-portion of cavatelli pasta with chicken sausage, broccoli, rabe, pepper flakes, and a wine sauce. Each was spectacular.

Gail chose the duck for her entree, accompanied by farro, candied pistachios, and some sort of sauce. You can see it below.

I had the pig. Shortly after it was served, the chef came out to tell us about it. He explained that it was the best fed pig — or mammal of any sort — on the island, feasting on Ventuno scraps for months. Plus, the restaurant makes its own goat cheese, and would send the whey to the farm for the pig to try as well. The first time, it was an experiment, but the farmer reported back that they should keep it coming, and so they did. We were reassured that this was one happy pig.

And soon Ventuno had one happy diner. Two, actually.

On to dessert. Gail had the bomboloncini: bittersweet chocolate doughnuts, coffee gelato, and chocolate sauce. I tasted one of her two doughnuts and it was fabulous. I went light, with the morsel of caramel panna cotta and a little almond cookie.

As we finished, the chef returned to make sure the pig hadn’t died in vain. We fell into a long conversation, during which we realized that he was the founding chef and restaurant owner, Gabriel. He described the troubles last summer with customers who weren’t happy about the changes, somehow wanting Ventuno to be 21 Federal in all but name. Some didn’t get what the restaurant was about, or weren’t sympathetic to it. This year, things are better. Unhappy old-timers stay away. Those who come get what they’re about. We talked as well about how he and his wife handle their split life in Nantucket and Boston, this being the first complicated year, as the older of their two children began kindergarten this week. Until now, where they were, the kids were.

On our way out, we bought a Ventuno t-shirt for Gail to wear, the same style t-shirt the bus staff were wearing. The thought that we would have to wait a year for our next meal there saddened us. Maybe next year we’ll go twice.

——-

For more on Gabriel Frasca, see this short article and the video below.

Categories: Restaurants, Travel

La Côte Café

July 6, 2012 Leave a comment

I’ve written on a few occasions about the restaurant La Côte Crêperie, most recently last November. It’s a small place, just eight tables or so, about a mile from our house. And until recently it had a classic French crêperie menu. Savory crêpe for dinner, sweet crêpe for dessert. Except that I was partial to their croque-monsieurs, which I would usually choose as my main dish. And I love their “côte salad”: butter lettuce, shaved fennel, apple, shallot vinaigrette. My typical meal, then, would be the salad, the croque-monsieur, and their Belle-Hélène dessert crêpe (pear, vanilla ice cream, chocolate sauce). Plus a glass of French cider.

When we ate there last March, we discovered a change in the menu. The crêpe options were significantly reduced, and new entrees were added. Plus, the chalkboard that once listed the crêpes of the day instead offered additional non-crêpe entrees. Fortunately, the côte salad was still available. So too the croque-monsieur and Belle-Hélène. But I’m a sucker for carbonara. When I discovered the menu’s new pasta section, including fettucini carbonara with slab bacon, parmesan, and cream, that’s what I ordered.

A couple of months ago, I realized that the menu change was accompanied by a name change. The restaurant is now La Côte Café and Wine Bar. No simple crêperie any longer. Which is a pity. But I do love that carbonara.

After a four-month absence, we returned this evening. I suppose sometimes I lack imagination. I started with the côte salad and cider, followed by the carbonara. No Belle-Hélène for dessert this time though. Too filling. Instead I went for the crème brûlée, which was excellent.

Meanwhile, Gail also ordered côte salad, followed by their delicious lasagna and then a dessert crêpe, the sucrée. Just a simple crêpe with butter and sugar.

Oh, about the carbonara. You probably know that the sauce includes raw egg. La Côte plates the pasta with half an egg shell sitting on the top, the raw egg resting in the shell. You get to pour the egg out over the pasta and mix it all up, the warm pasta and cream sauce cooking the egg. When the dish is served, a small plate is brought to the table, of the sort that might hold a boiled egg, perfect for disposing of the used egg shell.

We left happy.

Categories: Restaurants

Anniversary Dinner

June 26, 2012 Leave a comment

Gail and I celebrated our anniversary on Saturday. Twenty-seven years earlier, we were married in the Olympic Hotel in downtown Seattle. We therefore make it a habit to return to the Olympic for our anniversary dinner. Not every year, but many, including this one. We eat in their Georgian Room, one of the most beautiful dining spaces in the city, and with excellent food too.

We’ve always enjoyed chatting with the Georgian’s sommelier, an Austrian man who has a way with stories. While we were looking over the menu, we discussed our plans with him and ordered glasses of prosecco to start, with a half bottle of the 2008 Domaine Vieux Télégraphe Chateauneuf-du-Pape for later. Gail started with the Dungeness Crab Bisque, served with two mini crab cakes in the middle and crab pieces above, over which the soup was poured. I had a salad that I don’t see on the current on-line menu: warm spinach, lardon, and a tiny fried egg. And something called Guinness melba, which was a long, thin, curled piece of bread, made with Guinness, that was buttered and baked. Beautiful presentation; excellent flavor.

For our main dishes, I was leaning toward the rack of lamb, but when Gail ordered it, I went for the T-bone steak. Hers was listed on the menu with four accompaniments. Each was prepared in a block about one-and-a-half inch square and maybe three-fourths of an inch high, the four squares laid out in the center of the plate to form a three-inch square with the lamb on top. It looked beautiful. One of the squares was a mashed pea concoction with tomato jam on top. I ate some of it at the end. It was sublime. Another was spinach, another lamb shank, and I don’t remember the fourth. Gail chose well.

The distinctive feature of my steak was its presentation with three sauces: béarnaise, peppercorn, and cabernet jus. Each was in a square dish, the three lined up in a row along one side of the long rectangular plate. The steak occupied a good part of the rest of the plate, along with three fingerling potatoes, three mini onion rings, and three asparagus tips. Everything was superb, but it didn’t have the overall balance of Gail’s. I might have liked more asparagus. I would have loved her pea mash.

For dessert, the Georgian always offers two soufflé options. On the current menu, there’s a black and white and a soufflé of the day, which on Saturday was coconut-blackberry. Gail ordered the first, me the second. We did so when we ordered our main dishes, so we were surprised at the 25-minute gap between our plate removal and soufflé arrival. Something went wrong between the waiter and the kitchen. No matter. We weren’t in a rush, and when the soufflés did come, they were perfect.

Oh, I forgot the amuse-bouche. What was it? Some kind of cherry concoction. I can’t quite remember. Gail loved it. I thought it was low on flavor, but Gail called it subtle. At the other end of the meal, after dessert, we were served two little truffle cakes, maybe an inch in diameter, each with a cut in the middle into which a dropper was placed with raspberry syrup to be squeezed into the cut. Part way up the dropper was a thin sliver of chocolate to be slid off and eaten. And, since it was our anniversary, we had a special presentation. “Happy anniversary” was written on the plate in chocolate, with two lit candles standing on the plate. The truffles were surprisingly dry, once the syrup was swallowed. By design, I suppose, but we found it puzzling.

How did they know it was our anniversary? Well, I told them, when I called two days earlier to request a particular table. And, I had flowers waiting from Topper’s, the florist conveniently located on the basement level of the hotel.

After we paid, we carried the flowers out and went up half a floor to the mezzanine level, which forms a balcony ringing the lobby. At the far end of the balcony on the left is the Kensington Room, where we were married. We always peek in, though when nothing is going on there, it’s difficult to see anything, what with the lights out and the curtains drawn. After failing to see, we wandered into the main ballroom to have a look, then went down to get our car.

A lovely evening. Happy Anniversary, Gail.

Categories: Family, Restaurants