The Little Blue House

We were in France for three months, September-December of 2000... And boy did we eat well! I had two pastries for breakfast every morning instead of one. In Tours, we ate bistro food and drank good wine. We had Crepes and Fondue and even visited a goat-centric restaurant somewhere in the country side. Jean Bardet was quite nice, and so was Jamin in Paris. It was all amazing. Now, I couldn't afford to spend the same money at these restaurants because my dollars do not carry the same weight. So, when I go back to France next month for a week, I'll have to scale back to just a cafe au lait for breakfast and hope that my sister is cooking for lunch! (And if you want to talk about Bush, try having been in France during the whole election debacle. We were actually mocked.) -Emily

That's rather helpful. Thanks. All of the places we tried to book for New Years didn't work out... I am visiting London for about a week over New Years--and it is rather important that we have a very special meal on New Years Day (also my sister's birthday). We have been having a hard time finding a restaurant for that day as well, maybe even a harder time. Do you have any suggestions? Anying sort of hip or Japanese would be key, as those are the sorts of places that my sister would like to visit. Thanks. -Emily

I think that the combo is eggs, choice of meat, and a malasada. And it's cheap--I don't remember how much, but it's cheap. December 26th, huh? If I were you, I'd call and make sure that they will be open. It is just a bakery counter, and while there are chairs to sit in while you wait, this isn't the sort of place where you eat. Of course, this being Hawaii, you can just step outside eat pretty much anywhere, even on December 26th. Sadly, I will be missing the holidays in Hawaii! I hope that everyone else enjoys theirs here. -Emily

Perhaps directions in terms of Mavro would be easiest? Just remember that McCully is the street that runs along side Mavro, on the side where the door isn't. If you were driving up McCully from Waikiki, you would pass Mavro on your left. Then a couple of lights later, turn left onto Beretania at the funny rental place (they always have a sign up with some odd saying), and Champion is on your right. If they are open, there is a neon OPEN sign. Enjoy! And after just thinking about how to get there, now I might have to walk over there and get some breakfast! They have a great breakfast plate. -Emily

skchai - You will notice that I advised against ordering meat at India House. Another restaurant to try--possibly my number one pick, but based soley on a lunch I had over a year ago--is Sushi Sasabune on King. Has anyone else ever been there? It didn't make it on my list because I couldn't be sure if it was a fluke or not... But my lunch there was devine. -Emily

I see pictures, one of a lady behind a counter and one of a heaping plate of food. Is it your browser window?

In terms of nation-building, do you mean the fairly inclusive Local community? Or do you mean a Hawaiian Nation? The implications of each, particularly on this question, are fairly important in considering your questions. I wish that I had thought of these issues last week--I spent a day at a meeting with several kupuna talking about fishing regulations, and thus, fish. It would have been neat to find out what they thought of current Hawaiian food and where it fits into their ideas of authentic Hawaiian food. -Emily

And of course, behind Gina's on the bottom side of Market City is Formaggio's (the wine bar) and Fujioka's (the store). Good job skchai! -Emily

Like I said, 6:44 am and grumpy. I have been "supposed to" write this article for a magazine for about six months, so I quit and will just post my list here. These are 10 of my prefered restaurants in Honolulu, as requested by a mainland editor who said those death-knell words (the contract is in the mail) in June. They are not in any order: 1. Ono Hawaiian Food: Cheap, informal dining surrounded by pictures of local celebrities. Specializes in Hawaiian favorites. 2. Legends Vegetarian Restaurant: Informal vegetarian Chinese dining in Chinatown. Specializes in non-meat versions on popular Chinese cuisine. There are spareribs on the menu—and they really do look and almost taste like spareribs. Actual meat dishes and dim sum are available from the sister restaurant next door. 3. Mariposa: Resort-like upscale dining, centrally located in Ala Moana, with decent food. The trick here is that you can see Waikiki’s Friday Fireworks and the ocean at sunset from the lanai (porch) seating. And, the tropically themed drinks are pretty cheap. 4. Olive Tree: Informal Greek and Mediterranean dining, BYOB, that somehow pulls off romantic seating in a parking lot. Everyone who has ever gone on a date in Honolulu has been to Olive Tree. 5. The Japanese place next to Dave's Ice Cream, the name of which I will not try to spell here: Informal, but mid-range in price. Great group dining with tasty tapas style Japanese food with a wide by-the-glass sake list. 6. Alan Wong: The local seat of Hawaiian Regional Cuisine (HRC). While not as over the top as competitors such as recent James Beard Award winner Chef Mavro, Alan Wong’s food always tastes good. It is a dependable stand-by, and a local favorite because the diner always knows what he or she is going to end up with. 7. C & C Pasta: Mid-range to upscale in price, depending on what you order. Good pasta and meat dishes, but C & C really shines with their Italian cheese and meat selection available as an appetizer or to go from the small deli counter in back. Though Marabella was rather nice this weekend, so C&C might be falling off of my list. 8. India House: It is slightly expensive, but can be quite good. Avoid the meat--or, just see my review in the Honolulu Weekly from January of 2003. 9. W & M BBQ Burger: Cheap, burger joint that only has two things on the menu—both of which are BBQ Burgers. There is no seating, but this place has one of the best burgers in town. Either W & M or Teddy's. I flip-flop daily. 10. Le Guignol: Upscale French with an HRC flair. BYOB, with outdoor seating overlooking a park and the home of the Honolulu Symphony. The hostess/owner is occasionally barefoot. -Emily

It is not a foodie favorite like Alan Wong's--but for a nice dinner with a wonderful view and surprisingly cheap drinks, I would spend my Friday night at Mariposa. When my mother and sister came to visit in April, we spent both of their Friday nights there. By the second time, we were smart enough to make a reservation and to request a seat on the lanai so that we could watch the fireworks. (I have no idea if there are still fireworks, maybe your hotel would know?) Moreover, my sister is an extremely picky eater and Mariposa was very accomodating. We hadn't had such an easy time eating since Everest (in Chicago) made my sister her own tasting menu. Unfortunately, Honolulu is just not a great restaurant town. There are the stand bys, like Alan Wong's, Chef Mavro, maybe the-jackets-required-French-restaurant La Mer. No one is really doing anything all that interesting, or at least, nothing that they haven't been doing for the last ten years. So, try one HRC place, spend Friday night with a view at Mariposa, and try to squeeze in La Guignol (BYOB, French-ish place that can be quite innovative for Honolulu). Otherwise, this city is about plate lunch. Or, then again, it is 6:44 in the morning. Maybe I am just grumpy, and the perhaps the state of Honolulu dining isn't quite so dire. Who knows. -Emily

I would say that it might be the result of the captive audience--being a college town and all--but the truth is, it never really seems like the students leave the campus. This has always confused me too. Then there are the occasional tries at doing something a little different (Does anyone else remember the short lived, expensive, and not too good Twist Rojo?), but they never last and they never seem to live up to the expections created by being located right smack in between New York and Philadelphia. Perhaps this is a result of the cost of real estate? Princeton's food "scene" is about the pleasure of the lunch combo at Sakura Express on Witherspoon, a trip to the Record Exchange, and a little tour of the campus. Or the same thing, substituting Hoagie Haven, or Olives, or a burger at Triumph, or even Teresa's, provided you are liberal with the salt. What it comes down to is simple: Princeton is ideal for casual dining--casual though expensive--followed by a nice stroll. If you want more, you'll have to head to the city. -Emily

Emily - I agree. That was a fine piece of writing. This whole thread would be much better if it contained only Adam's original post and yours. Aww--thanks guys. -Emily Sorry to add to the string of adulation, but that was a very good story/review. Thanks Emily. Thanks Claire. But really, things never get this exciting over in the Northwest/Pacific topic. I should read over here more often. Except that anything that I would have to say is over a year old--so in the future, I'll just lurk. -Emily

Disaster of all disasters: Nobu is closed on my sister's birthday--which happens to be New Year's Day. Does anyone have a suggestion for a restaurant that might be open? We are also having a lot of problems finding something for New Year's Eve, but I guess that is to be expected. Thanks, Emily PS: Cusina, thanks for letting me co-opt small portions of your thread.... !

Perhaps I should just steal your list and trash mine :). I am going to be in London from December 26-January 3. The last time I was in London was only a day or so in 1996, so I pretty much have no idea of what I should be doing and where I should be eating. I am going to hang out with my family, who are visiting to celebrate my baby sister's birthday on New Year's Day. My sister has never been to Europe, so wer are pretty excited. This is our plan so far--courtesy of my mother's love of guidebooks. The only firm reservations are at Gordon Ramsey's. There are big, big dining holes. So, I appreciate your list to help fill out mine! Saturday Leisurely breakfast somewhere in Kensington/Knightsbridge followed by a few hours at Harrod's and other shops perhaps on Kensington High Street. Quick late lunch somewhere on the run..... Victoria and Albert Museum - couple of hours. It's not too far from our hotel. Back to hotel for a rest, a drinkie pooh Dinner in Kensington, South Kensington - somewhere close. I'm thinking of La Poule au Pot or Isola which is in Knightsbridge. I'd like to be at the restaurant by 7:00, - trying to not be out too late. Sunday Breakfast at the hotel I'm in the midst of reserving a car and tour guide for an 8 hour whirlwind "This is London" tour. Felt the privacy of our own car and guide would be the way to go. Dinner - not sure but it should be close to the hotel. Maybe Il Blue. If you come up with anything, let me know. Monday Head for the West End for a quick lunch en route to Peter Pan at 2:30PM. Lovely early dinner - I am thinking of the restaurant at the OXO Tower for the city views - this time after dark! Tuesday All day bus tour to Stonehenge, Bath, and Windsor Castle. No idea about how meals will be handled. Wednesday, New Year's Eve Maybe tea at the Orangery in Kensington late in the afternoon 6:30PM tickets to Bombay Dreams Dinner some where at 9:30 to 10:00 PM. I'm thinking Restaurant 1837 at Brown's Hotel. Trafalger Square if we finish dinner before midnight - not likely, not even sure I want to! Thursday, My sister's birthday Leisurely late breakfast/brunch. Parade at noon until 3:00. Dinner at Nobu if they're open........ (My sister loves Japanese food.) Friday LAST DAY 6:30 Dinner at Gordon Ramsay at Claridges Anything to add?? -Emily

Emily - I agree. That was a fine piece of writing. This whole thread would be much better if it contained only Adam's original post and yours. Aww--thanks guys. -Emily

I drink my coffee from an old dark blue mug because my boyfriend has stolen my white "Princeton Coffee House" mug--the one with the near breaking handle--given to me by the owner of the now defunct Princeton Coffee House when I left town. (The place closed a few months later in the fall of 1997.)

Wow.

My NJ geography is always fuzzy--I am apparently still in rebellion against the fifth grade teacher who tried to make us memorize all of the counties--is Trenton inside of your available area? I went to this little (my parents always claimed crime-family run) Italian restaurant for my birthday in 1997. It was perfect in the sense that it had character, good food, and decent wine. It is not fine dining by any means, but it is as local as good local food gets in NJ. I can try and track the name down for you if you are interested. Other options include Princeton, where there is always something halfly decent to be had. I usually hit Teresa's when I am in town, it's an Italian place (and has another location in New Brunswick)... The food can be a little bland, but for nice romantic strolling, Princeton is key. And, in a shout out to home towns: Try the Cranbury Inn. George Washington slept there. The food is okay but the room is great. Have you seen the movie IQ? The scene in the restaurant takes place in the dining room at the Cranbury Inn. And while I only caught the closing shot, I pretty sure that Food TV's Food Finds did a segment on the Inn. I once spent a New Year's Eve at the Inn, and was a good 30 years younger than everyone else--but it was still a raucous good time. If you are looking for something more foodie, hit either NYC or Philadelphia. That's the great thing about central NJ, either one is only an hour away--you can even take the train. -Emily

My boyfriend Chris and I went to Trotters on January 14, 2002, I was 23 and he was 24. But I guess that it had all started about a year before in brisk Chicago mid-winter weather, at “Trotter’s to Go.” That January, Chris and I had just gotten back to Chicago from France. He was applying to various restaurants for cook jobs, and had finally decided to apply to Trotter’s. Chris did not really expect to get the job, but he spent days crafting the cover letter and finding the perfect paper for his resume. As a reward for putting his cover letter and resume in an appropriately stamped envelope, Chris and I decided that we should treat ourselves to dinner from To Go. We were going to mail the letter on the way to the deli, but for some unknown reason, all of the mailboxes seemed to be on the other side of the street. And so we arrived, still in possession of the letter. Imagine our surprise, when we walked in: the staff was in a frenzy. The usually quiet, restrained bunch was feverishly pitching. In addition, as though to swell to general hysteria, there was Chef Trotter, standing by the door, offering Toro tastes to people as they entered. As he pushed the tuna on us, he challenged, “If this is not the best thing you’ve had to eat in the last three months, dinner’s on me.” Did I mention that we are both shy? Very, very shy. Knowing that Chris had his resume, carefully addressed to Chef Trotter, did not help. We tried the fish—and said nothing. But the truth was, it wasn’t the best thing we had eaten in the last three months. We had just gotten back from France, where we had eaten at some pretty incredible restaurants like Jamin and Jean Bardet. Trotter’s Toro à la plastic plate really did not match up. Moreover, Chris had just been home to visit his parents (where we now live, in Honolulu). It was most certainly not the best fish he had had. Nonetheless, we said nothing. I admit it—we are wimps. I think it was months before we got the nerve up to back to To Go. The whole situation had been just a little bit too much for us. I dreaded running into Trotter again, partially because I was somewhat ashamed of myself for not having said anything in the first place. In June, Chris landed a job elsewhere and in October, I finally decided that it was time to assuage my fears and bitterness. I wrote the man an email. I wrote this simple email, explaining what the situation had been, and why we felt unable to speak. And then I wrote that his challenge had failed because it was not the best thing that we had eaten in the last three months. I wrote a bit about our time in France, and where Chris is from. I did not insult his food, but I did deny his Toro the title he had given it. I did not expect a reply. I wrote the email for me. However, I got a reply less than an hour later. It read: Dear Emily, Thanks for the toughtful (sic) note. Regrettably you entirely missed the point of my offer. My steadfast intention was to treat the two of you to dinner.....alas, perhaps I'll run into you again at To Go. In which case, I'll offer up something of considerably greater significance. Best, Charlie P.S. On a side note for the past 10 years I've lived for the part of the year on Maui..... It's quite nice there! Imagine my shock, surprise, and further fear. I could not help but be frightened by the idea of Charlie Trotter offering up something of considerably greater significance. I could think of no response. So I wrote nothing. Two months later, I decided to get my mom a Charlie Trotter Meat & Game cookbook for Christmas. She had been rather amused at my recounting of the email exchange, and it seemed like a cute gift. I started working up the courage to approach Chef Trotter at the a local book signings so that my mother could have it personally inscribed. He arrived late, breezing in with his little entourage of chefs and assistants. He took the podium and gave a rather interesting talk on excellence. And then, I stood in line, and tried to figure out what in the world I would say when actually faced with him. I introduced myself. I think I shook his hand. The scary part? He remembered my email. It had been nearly three months earlier and he remembered it. The scarier part? He remembered it wrong. He took it as an insult. He remembered it as me saying his food was not good—he did not take it in its context. He ignored the point, the part that said his food was great but in the framework of our previous three months, it had not been the best thing. We had had incredible fine dining experiences, and his deli had not beaten them. This should not have been a surprise, but this crazy man appeared to have been hurt by the implication. So, I emailed him again a few weeks later and re-explained. I wrote that his food was fine, great even. I wrote that I was worried by his interpretation of my words, and that I wanted to re-assure him of the caliber of his own food. I expected no response, and I did not get one. And this leads me to that night, January 14, 2002. I made the reservation about six weeks before. It was one of three Mondays that they were going to be open in 2002, and with the rumors about Trotter retiring, quitting, moving on, Chris and I thought it was time. We were alternatively nervous, anxious, and excited as we watched the date approach. I had to have a friend call and pretend to be my secretary to confirm the reservation because neither Chris nor I felt able to drop the line “And you are aware that Chris Sy is cook?” I underlined the accent points, wrote a bullet point list of topics to cover, and stood in my friend’s office as she bonded with Marjorie, the reservationist. The friend did the whole thing on speakerphone. I had to clasp my hands over my mouth to keep from laughing aloud. It was difficult the day before to focus on anything else. I practically ran home to meet Chris, even though our reservation was not until 9 PM. We looked at print outs of the menus (Grand Menu, Vegetable Menu and Kitchen Table Menu) and tried to figure out what we were going to chose. We debated whether or not we could swing the glass of champagne that Chris really wanted on top of the meal. We found no answers. A friend of ours ended up dropping us off at the restaurant. The valet opened the car doors and we were on the sidewalk. He escorted us to the stairs. We held our breath and entered. In the moment between the feeling of my hand on the door and actually arriving on the inside, the world was a blur. That was the moment I had been so scared by—the moment between outside and inside. I know what 816 W. Armitage looks like on the outside. I can picture it when I close my eyes. I even know were a copy of the menu is posted beneath the ivy. But I had never in my life been inside the building, and had no idea what to expect. As soon as we were inside though, all of the unknown vanished. Every scathing review filled with cries of pretension seemed misplaced. We were greeted warmly. Nothing was intimidated. We waited for our table in the bar area, looking over a letter concerning a fundraiser with Alain Ducasse. As another couple came in after us, a woman who turned out to be the sommelier, Belinda Chang, invited us to our table. The room was nothing that I expected. It was not too much; it did not make me wonder what in the world we were doing there. There were a few tables on either side with a large marble counter-type thing in the middle scattered with decanters and bottles of wine. It just was not scary. The anxiety melted as the sommelier again approached our table. She said, “I understand that there is a professional at the table tonight.” I smiled and pointed at Chris, who was starting to blush a little. But only a little. “Ah, the guilty party,” she said with a bit of a laugh. And then she said, “Chef Trotter would like to create a spontaneous menu for you tonight if you don’t mind forgoing the formality of a printed menu.” We nodded and she left the wine list. How in the world can you turn down Chef Trotter offering to cook for you? We certainly could not. We ordered a glass of champagne each to start. We got a glass of the Pol Roger “Cuvee Winston Churchill” Brut 1990 and a glass of the Jose Dhondt “Mes Vieilles Vignes-Blanc de Blancs” Brut NV and shared them. The Pol Roger—-he glass that Chris had really wanted—was incredible and entirely worth it. And then, mid-sipping, out came the first course with usual flair of a wonderful restaurant: perfectly timed wait-staff bearing plates and presenting them simultaneously with some explanation. The first course was Trotter’s “Bento Box”, with European Turbot with Braised Daikon and Spicy Shad Roe, Gratin of Steller Bay Oysters with Miso and in Chris’s case pearl onion, Salad of Crispy Lotus Root and Hearts of Palm and some other fish that I cannot quite remember. The box, with its faux-Asian touches and slightly unstable construction was cleared and the sommelier returned. She asked us if we had any questions about the list, which we both knew was one of the most incredible wine lists in the country (if not the most incredible list). Of course, we had questions, but Chris made a brilliant move. He asked her to pair tasting for each of the courses. Problem solved. We were placed in the hands of a great sommelier. She left and returned with white wine glasses and poured two glasses of Pouilly-Fume “En Chaillous” Didier Dagueneau 1999. She offered us her comments on the wine, and we resisted the urge to tell her that we had in fact met in the Loire Valley in the first place. Nonetheless, it was amazing. Shortly the wait-staff returned to present a duo of terrines, roasted eggplant with arugula and braised tiny beets served with goat cheese ice cream. Both were interesting colors and texture. In advance of eating them I was enchanted. The eggplant was smooth and almost creamy while the beet was careful thin slices of white and pink layered together. Those plates disappeared, more wine glasses appeared and the sommelier poured Gaja “Gaia & Rey” Chardonnay, Langhe 1999 which she declared to be the best Chardonnay if not the best bottle of white wine she had ever had. Then, out came these wacky plates that from a distance looked a bit like an octopus. The bottom portion looked almost like a sheet on a clothesline billowing the in wind… But then make the sheet china and turn it on its side, making sure to create a dip in the middle for soup. On top of the bowl portion was what looked like a normal bowl, but I guess was really a cloche. The waiters brought these strange plates, set them down, removed the cloche and voila! It was soup of cannellini beans with so much alba white truffle that I can hardly imagine seeing that much of it again. At the bottom of the soup was a poached quail egg. The whole thing, beneath the white truffles, was the foamy, frothy mixture that perfectly complemented both the truffles and the wine. We finished these plates and they were whisked away along with the emptied champagne glass that was still left on the table. Again, the sommelier came bearing more glasses. She poured Chateauneuf-du-Pape “Roussanne-Vielles Vignes” Chateau de Beaucastel 1998, old vine wine. Out came big eye tuna with green and purple brussels sprouts perched on top of pureed curried chicken livers. I assure you, the chicken liver was essentially a sauce on this plate and was brilliant. (So, do not scrunch up your nose like that!) We resisted the urge to lick the plates and reflected on the idea of being served tuna. These plates disappeared and a waiter came and dropped off some more wine glasses. Chris and I took one look at the glasses (dessert wine glasses) and knew what was coming next: foie gras. For a while it was rumored that Chef Trotter had stopped serving foie gras because he was unhappy with the quality of it, so we were pleasantly surprised when we were presented with seared foie with grapefruit and pine nuts. The sommelier poured a truly yummy dessert wine, which along with the Gaja, was one of my favorites of the evening. It was a Zweigelt Rose #1 Trockenbeerenauslese Kracher, Neusiedlersee 1998. Chris took a break, headed for the bathroom and I ended up chatting with the sommelier as the dishes were taken away. She asked if we were interested in an "insider’s look tour" when we finished our meal. I told her that we would be delighted, but that she should probably warn who ever would be showing us around that Chris is very shy. She replied that the guys in the kitchen really like to be asked questions. I told her that no one should be surprised if he did not say a word. We talked a bit about where Chris was working, and she said that she had heard lots of good things. I pointed out that one of the sous-chefs at Trotter’s, Giuseppe, had been in to eat there rather recently. And eventually, Chris returned to the table. He had been stuck in the bathroom looking at the menus from various famous restaurants worldwide posted on the walls. A waiter asked us if we would like to be relieved of our white wine glasses, and they were spirited away. Chris and I had been debating whether or not the man was in residence that evening. Knowing that he spends part of the year in Maui, I had my bets on his absence. If you lived and worked in Chicago but spent part of the year in Maui, one would hope that you would opt to spend January as one of those months away. Chicago winter, after all, is best spent no where near Chicago! Chris guessed that Chef Trotter would be in town at least—and was proven right around the time the sommelier poured two glasses of Sine Qua Non “Ox-Shea Vineyard” Pinot Noir, Yamhill 1999. Out he wandered from the kitchen, looking somewhat gaunt and very, very scruffy. I was totally surprised by his appearance. When I saw him at the book signing in December he was well-groomed, but that night he mostly just looked a bit insane. He paced the bar area, and made me nervous. But then, the waiters presented us with roasted breast of squab with braised salsify and perigord black truffle emulsion. While Chris tried to explain the difference between emulsion and foam, I just gobbled it up. This was the only dish where I encountered the regular complainant of the food being not-quite as warm as you might want it to be. It was incredibly yummy though, and Chris had been craving squab for about a week so we definitely enjoyed it… If it hadn’t been for the pacing, frazzled man in the bar who kept looking at us funny, I might have enjoyed it a bit more. After the squab, I headed off for the ladies room—dutifully escorted by a back-waiter who seemed to take this all very seriously. The first bathroom was occupied so he directed me to a bathroom off of the studio (where Trotter films his PBS show). Coming out of the bathroom I discovered about 7 TV screens facing the door to the bathroom. They showed the action at the various positions in the kitchen, which was rather eerie. In my mind, I have no problem imagining Chef Trotter standing in front of these screens with wide eyes, turning knobs and pulling levers. And if someone messes up, I can easily imagine him hitting a button and a trap door to no where opening beneath the poor unlucky cook. I went back to the dining room and sat down. We were poured two glasses on Henschke “Cyril Henscke” Cabernet Sauvignon, Eden Valley 1997 to pair with the arriving Niman Ranch lamb saddle and rack with crispy semolina cake (Chris had hedgehog mushrooms). Chef Trotter made his way around the room, and finally, stopped at our table. It was obvious he recognized me—though Chris was the VIP—but could not place the face. I certainly did not want to remind him. He asked us if we had been in before and we said no. He invited us to take a tour after and then wandered off to another table. It is hard to use the word wander for someone whose style of walking is more like charging, but it absolutely had an aimless quality to it. I am not sure how one can accomplish charging and wandering simultaneously, but the man has. Our table was cleared, and next was a black truffle crepe with Hudson Valley Camembert and stewed figs. I had been fine until this point. I conquered each dish. I left no scrap—with the exception of a piece of fat from the lamb. I was good. But this was just inching toward way too much. I love figs but I left them, as I have a history of insulting pastry chefs by not doing my part to devour their delicious desserts. Next came the dish I love the most at To Go, in its original form. It was coconut tapioca soup with Papaya and Pineapple sorbets. When they offered us espresso, I thought we were done. I thought we had won. I thought that we were going to leave satisfied but not ill, without insulting the kitchen with things like blatantly uneaten dishes. After they brought our espresso there was a pause and I saw just how wrong I was. Dish, after dish, after dish (I think 10) came pouring out of the kitchen. Piled high with amazing confection, they covered the table. Chocolate cakes with sauces and ice creams, parsnip-carrot cake, quince tart… I cannot remember most of them, let alone all of them. I think my eyes bulged out of my head. I took a bite of each one. We sat. We digested. We stared in awe at the table and then John Lithgow walked passed. I think one of the most amazing things is that no one seemed to care that this TV and Broadway star was eating among us. Chris and I continued to stare at the food we could not consume. The waitstaff laughed a bit, took away the plates, and came back with a small box with the mignardises. Then they brought the bill. It was about $500--and the truth is, we felt like we had gotten the experience at a steal. After we paid, we were escorted to the kitchen where, you guessed it! Giuseppe the sous-chef became our tour guide. He showed us the line, and I can assure you, that perhaps the reason why people complain about food being not quite warm enough at Trotters is that the kitchen seemed to be very air conditioned. Beyond trying to weasel the recipe for the black-truffle ravioli that Chris maded everyday, Giuseppe was well behaved. Much to my surprise, Chris did actually pipe up with a few questions. We saw the studio, the large format wine cellar, and then the other cellar. I saw an 1870 bottle of wine that amazed me and then Giuseppe pointed out the bottle that was the most expensive in the house: $21,000. $21,000 for a single 750 mL bottle of wine. I would not want to be the clumsy waiter who ever had to touch that bottle (by the way, all of the bottles in the cellar appeared to be dusted and perfect). On our way out, we said good night to the still disheveled and pacing Chef Trotter. A hostess handed us a goodie bag with two books, some Charlie Trotter sauce and a hat. They had a cab waiting for us as we exited, and we were done. The next morning Chris pointed out that if I told him it had all been a dream he would believe it. It was surreal, amazing, and somehow intangible at the same time. -Emily

I actually once had a problem flying with wine from California--we were bring back 17 bottles, and the airline took issue. Eventually they let us carry it all on, but it wasn't much fun.

They don't always want you to buy it then--they understand about customs laws. In fact, once when we purchased two bottles of wine at a small vineyard, we were told that if we liked it, to request it from our local wine shop (then in Chicago) rather than try to sneak a case through in our suitcase. -Emily

Near Tours, in Vouvray, is Clos Baudoin... The wonderful place is run by Prince Poniatowski--ignore the name and go for a visit. He is an amazing host. And the wine is quite good, particularly 1989 and 1986... Both of which your friend will be invited to taste. -Emily

Tours is beautiful in Decemeber, still not all that cold, and with a good coat, you can walk around the old city all day. So, maybe you would have luck in January. Tours is ideal for walking, take a train there and stay somewhere in town. Rent a car for the Chateaux (there are three car rental places just next to the train station), but don't spend all of your time away. There is a restaurant, Bistro d'Edward, I think, behind Les Halles. Eat anything you like there, and finish up with the profiterole followed by a coffee (because other wise, you might not make it home with all of the staggering). La Chope is great for the towering raw, iced, seafood trays. I always had a soft sport for Paella, across the street (next to the chestnut guy). The brioche place by the train station is pretty amazing too. And cafe au lait in Tours is cafe creme. Then again, I was always partial to Geneva, which is 3 hours away by TGV from Paris. There is a place in the Old Town that only serves chicken, aptly called Chez Ma Cousine, On y mange du poulet. Also, my favorite sushi place in the world (so far) is on Rue Chantepoulet. The strange little strawberry mochi dessert is worth the trip. Cafe Opera has wonderful Tarte Au Citron, and around the corner is my favorite fondue and raclette place. Pretty much everything in Geneva is closed on Sunday, and lots of things are closed on Saturday too. So be careful. And hey, I'll be in Strasbourg from January 3-8, and making a one or two day trip to Paris--maybe. So, obviously, I rather like the Alsace! But, until they finish the TGV line, I'll make my 5 hour trip by train from Paris, and hang out in the dining car. -Emily

Yeah, well, you have a point there. Wonderful weather, all of the time. Still, I lived in Chicago for five years, and it's a hard city to get over. -Emily

Are you talking about the new one at KCC? Based on a couple visits about a month ago, there honestly wasn't that much more variety than at the North Shore Farmer's Market. Jeanne Vanna of North Shore Farm has even more of her wonderful and award winning tomatoes, and is selling fried green tomatoes on the spot--always a good thing. North Shore Cattle Company has a stall, and runs out of beef by mid-morning. And then, there are the usual lots more tomtatoes, some eggplant, honey, soaps, jams. C & C Pasta has a stall, which is nice and a bit different, I guess. It's lively, and wonderful that such a resource is closer to town, but it is still a little disappointing. Hopefully, it will get bigger, more diverse, as time goes on. -Little Blue