The Last Course....

As another instance of “doing it right” at the Inn at Little Washington, when we returned from the memorable dinner we found a little card in script next to the clock radio that said “For your convenience, we have adjusted the clock to standard time”. So we were grateful for the “extra” hour of sleep (which the concierge said came at no extra cost).

The next morning, before we went over to the Inn for breakfast MFO and I walked around the town some. Although dominated by “the Inn” and it’s out buildings, it is a pleasant little place with lots of galleries and shops. Kind of reminded us of our recent Santa Fe/Canyon Road experience..

In the small plaza in front of the Inn, there was a fountain, and it was cold enough that ice was forming on it..

 

We roamed around, and found some interesting places

We also saw some things that were sort of an East Coast version of Santa Fe memories

We found a little garden behind the Inn itself

And we observed some of the poorer residents of town who had to park their vehicles on the street

And the town thoughtfully provided some helpful signs to help the tourists with their major concerns…

Finally, we began to feel hungry, so we went back in the room for a bit, and then the clan gathered for breakfast. Since we had not had a chance the previous evening to consume the champagne from the “kids”, MFO took it over to the Inn and asked if it could be served with breakfast. “Of course Mrs. Moody, we’ll add it to the table we have set for you.”

So we went over and were seated inside at a pre-set table for six, which included flutes for the champagne and the bottle chilling on the side.

The fact that we stayed in a room overnight meant that the “continental” breakfast was included, but the clever people had the a la carte menu on the other half of the page. The continental included pastries, jams, yoghurt, granola, etc., but on the other side was pork fat!

As a greeting they brought a little tray of four juices in the same glasses that the bean soup was served in the previous evening. Freshly squeezed orange, pineapple, cider, and raspberry essences. All were very good. then came a little tray of fresh fruit (raspberries and blueberries flanking the yoghurt), and a little shaker of granola. I passed on everything but the fruit, I don’t know where they got those berries, but they tasted as if just fresh picked. The breads were croissants, muffins, and little raisin toasts. And they were accompanied by several house made jams.

Anyway, we all decided to get the real stuff, I had eggs Benedict with citrus hollandaise, MFO had the omelet du jour, FOJTY did French toast, and FOJTE did a “trio of American breakfasts”. The distaff side of the FOJ’s decided that maybe they would stick with the continental, but the server said, well, we could just split the omelet and it wouldn’t be so much to eat. Fine.

Okay, I’m not going into all the details again, you had that with the main course. But just as a hint, my eggs were honest to God properly poached eggs done in boiling water, not those damn egg cup round things with a yolk staring at you in the middle. The egg was trimmed, and laid on a gorgeous piece of salty country ham on a wonderful small muffin. The yolks were golden, not yellow, and oozed not ran, just barely coagulated. You ever tried that at home? Not very easy. The sauce was done right.  FOJTE’s trio was a little ramekin of scrambled eggs, a diminutive skillet of corned beef hash topped with a quail egg, and a small soufflé (I think…). Oh, a skillet of bacon and sausage was brought to the table to share. The champagne went well.

So at last it was time to leave. In August when we reserved the rooms, they took my card number.. At no time during our stay was further card running required, I put the tip on any food bill, signed the room number and that was it. When we left, it was only “Thank you Mr. Moody, we hope to see you again”. No money.

So we all departed and headed back to all our normalcy’s. As I said, our family together, good food, gracious service, great wines (which I spared you), lovely setting, watching a world class kitchen operate, meeting Patrick O’Connell…. Priceless.

And it occurred to me, would I go back? First blush is: “of course!!”, but there’s always a risk in “going home again” that you will fall into the “last time, we…” trap and begin to find fault with a return visit. On the other hand, a world class place should be the same, time after time after time. It’s what they do. So we’ll see.

Next bucket list: The French Laundry in Yountville, CA…

Where of course we would again have to be

DFD

and at last we can return to banal stuff like chain restaurants, and oh, yes, the story about the "guy next to us"