Life is funny…
perceptive, eh?
When I opened my eyes this morning and after my head cleared some,
I thought oh yeah, this is the Monday I had been dreading all weekend. There is the weekly Rotary club meeting at
noon, the auto body place said my lovely car would also be “done” at noon, a
spur of the moment telecom related to work was supposed to be at one, and there
is a lecture this evening at Historic St. Mary’s City we want to attend. Now, I know those of you who are still “working”
think “this is stupid”, but wait till you retire and your day isn’t filled by
work. Somehow these tasks get to be a
bit daunting..
Oh yeah, waking up… so faced with (to me) a busy day I decided
to bag the Club meeting, and spent the morning going over the material for the
Telecom so I could get Fluttermobile II at noon. Well, guess what? A phone call and an email later eliminated
any concerns, and only the possible pick up of the car remains (we think it will be done today, sir). The lecture tonight still is on, so now I have
time on my hands and can finally get back to where we last checked in, on the
Eastern Shore after Thanksgiving.
flashback
We elected to not eat at the Bartlett Pear until our last night, because it would most likely serve to put the bar so high that it would damage the memories of the other meals (save for Robert Morris who did that on their own). After returning from the lovely Blackwater drive, we did shop a bit (well, MFO did more than a “bit”) and returned to the room for a quick rest before going down for our 7:30 reservation. We decided we would have a cocktail in their bar before moving to the dining room, so got there about seven. Their bar is pleasant and has a few tables within, so one could dine there if you wished. I had what turned out to be a memorable experience.
flashback
We elected to not eat at the Bartlett Pear until our last night, because it would most likely serve to put the bar so high that it would damage the memories of the other meals (save for Robert Morris who did that on their own). After returning from the lovely Blackwater drive, we did shop a bit (well, MFO did more than a “bit”) and returned to the room for a quick rest before going down for our 7:30 reservation. We decided we would have a cocktail in their bar before moving to the dining room, so got there about seven. Their bar is pleasant and has a few tables within, so one could dine there if you wished. I had what turned out to be a memorable experience.
We were chatting with the bar person, when from a table of
three off the end of the bar, I heard the words “Dry Manhattan”. They weren’t ordering, they were just talking. I almost fell off my bar stool. Despite a glare from MFO I went over and
said: “excuse me, I thought I heard you say “Dry Manhattan””; They had indeed, and what followed was a most
gratifying and ego boosting conversation about my favorite drink, the
DMOTRWAT. They also appreciated the
drink, and also were introduced by their parents, and had the exact same
experience as I run into… sweet
vermouth, or dry vermouth with the cherry, etc.. we strayed a little into discussing
“classic” drinks like Old Fashioned, Tom Collins, etc. How nice.
I returned to the bar, and proudly ordered my DM… to the bartender who
overheard the conversation and agreed.
No Froo Froo Chocolatini’s there, just a solid cocktail.. As an aside,
they didn’t have Jim Beam (my sort of bourbon of choice) and I had to settle
for Woodford Reserve. They only stocked
top shelf liquors, for instance Gin selections were Hendricks (a favorite of
one of my loyal readers); Bulldog (?); Tanqueray; and Bombay and Sapphire. Not too shabby.
We sipped a bit, talked about cocktails some more and were
finally ready for the table. We had the
little two top in the bay window, and excellent table overlooking the rose
garden and a bit isolated from the rest of the dining space. In sharp contrast to the previous evening’s
meal, service was impeccable. The
servers were in crisp white shirts with a black Bartlett Pear Inn apron, and
while at the table the left arm was always behind the back. No silly speeches, “good evening Mr. and Mrs.
Moody are you set for drinks?” 'I’ll
leave the menus for you to go over, and I’ll let you decide or answer any
questions.'
The menu was digestible (ha ha) with only seven selections of
First and six for Main. No pages and
pages of flat breads, multiple salads, and so on. The origin of the main ingredient was listed
for each dish (PEI mussels; Rhode Island Scallops; Stonehouse Farms Pork Belly;
Marcho Farms Pan Roasted Veal, etc.). I
won’t go over all the selections, but with full description included, MFO decided on the “Maine Roasted Lobster Bisque with pan seared lobster cake, Ossau-Iraty
Cheese Crostini, Remy Martin Cognac crème fraiche”, and the “Local Wild Striped Bass en Papillote with
Turtle Boy Farms Sunchoke Barigoule (a homework exercise), carrot, fennel,
lemon preserve”, and I did my always sucker choice of the “Stonehouse Farms “Big Red” pate de champagne
with crispy cured pork lardo, lambs, lettuce, caramelized onion aioli, crostini”
along with the “Marcho Farms Pan Roasted
Veal Loin “Ballotine” Sweetbread-Foie Gras stuffed sweet Vidalia onion;
Davidson Farm Maitake Mushrooms, sauce Madiera”. So it takes a little while (and yes, another
DM..AT) to decide. I, for one,
appreciate a full description of the dish I am considering to order. I don’t care for surprises like a bundle of
unexpected asparagus. In
deference to MFO’s fish which could suffer from a heavier red we chose an ’09 Treana
Viognier Marsanne blend from Paso Robles.
As this is getting long, all I will say is that the meal was
wonderfully prepared, presented, and served perfectly. MFO’s fish was prepared (removing the “papillote”)
tableside and plated there. No runs of
sauce all over the place, no misplaced item, and each one of the other items on
the plate would stand on their own, they weren’t there for show. I suspect I said the same thing about dishes
at the “other” Inn, the one in Little Washington. All in all, it was a delightful
meal followed by a cheese course (including Humboldt Fog and Morbiere) and I splurged
on a glass of Fonseca Port. We were both
glad we only had to negotiate the stairs to get to our room. Oh, I didn’t include any pictures from dinner, there are times when the camera should stay in the pocket..
Believe it or not, we were able to eat breakfast the next
morning before departure, the daily selection being Eggs Benedict.
House cured bacon; farm fresh eggs (yolks a deep orange
instead of insipid yellow) perfectly poached in water; Hollandaise freshly made;
with a sprinkling of shallot and herbs; on more of that brioche bread. Sigh…
After that, we loaded up the MOMSTER and reluctantly headed
back to Southern Maryland after a great weekend. I highly recommend Easton as a getaway
weekend, and if you don’t want to enjoy Bartlett Pear, there are several other
good dining options for you. Not better,
but good.
A return trip over the bridge
And so here are (over a week later!) still basking in the
memories…needless to say we were always
DFD
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