We have a restaurant in town, just five minutes down the road, a five star, fine dining pacific cuisine kinda place. The atmosphere is eclectic and mellow, it sweeps you off into the vintage tropics. The menu celebrates of local fisherman and farmers with freshly sourced ingredients. Essentially, all tables look out over the ocean and its just amazing. This was where me and my husband enjoyed our first date-date (like when we finally admitted that it was a date) about 15 years ago. I guess he really liked me.
But also, for about five years now, we have enjoyed Valentine’s Day at this spot, being that we are closet foodies, its a fitting experience for both of us. We thoroughly enjoy talking flavors and the slow place that opposites our rushed and busy home life. Not to mention they’ve got a really really really really really good mai tai.
This year, though, my husband was out of town with my older son and it was just me and my little guy holding down the fort. I wasn’t about to give up those reservations that I made a year ago, so I decided it was time for a fancy restaurant date with Mr. Mathis.
This was either going to be the cutest thing ever or a really big mistake. Small guys don’t always have the best restaurant manners, and particularly in a fine dining establishment, its a bit of a gamble. I grew nervous as the day drew near, and pictures all the dining “catastrophes” that could occur… Drinks get spilled, tantrums get thrown, somehow they always want to hang out under the table…
But on the morning of Valentine’s Day there was a terrible tragedy in the United States, some children didn’t make it home from school in a town in Florida and amidst the anger and horror in my heart was that clear and concise perspective parents get in moments of fear. Suddenly I didn’t care what restaurant havoc might take place. I was going to spend an extra-special evening with my second (and last) born. I was going to fill the ache in my heart with time together breathing in the salty air and slowing down for a meal. I was going to take advantage of our alone time and give him my 100% undivided attention and love.
I’m happy to report that it was definitely and fabulously the cutest thing ever.
Who knew a fine dining establishment would be so welcoming and accommodating to a mother-son duo? We had the perfect booth seating, little wax toy, smiles from all the staff and were offered a children’s menu. We shared a small and simple sampling of the menu and he got to delight in his first umbrella drink ever. There’s something about that little paper umbrella, it stirs imagination and makes drink’s tastier, the world better, brighter somehow, with every sip, albeit temporary.
We colored pictures and people watched: young couples and those with years and years under their belt. My only complaint is that Mathis hogged the ahi sashimi and I didn’t even get any. But the way those chopsticks swiped them up and into his mouth, I’d say he gave it 6 stars.
At the end of the night we drove home (the whole 5 minutes) with full, happy bellies and hearts equally as full.