Otherwise Known as... The Night I Could've Met a Great Chef
I friended Slow Food Orlando, which promotes supporting local farmers in using organic, sustainable methods to get their food from farm to table, on Facebook a few months ago after reading an article about the Slow Food Movement. Although currently my garden is limited to a big blue ceramic pot full of basil, in the past I have grown arugula, several varieties of cherry tomatoes and beans, mustard greens, bok choy, purple carrots, watermelon radishes, striped beets, and long white daikon (a Japanese radish that looks like a parsnip). My raised beds are currently slumbering in my parents' garage, patiently awaiting being reassembled and put to use once again.
They might be waiting a while.
My new digs-- while wonderful-- have not nearly enough backyard space that gets a sufficient amount of sunlight to effectively grow a raised bed vegetable garden. I can use containers, though. I just need to get off my duff, go to my local Home Depot, and buy some soil. Chuck, my tall, strong, roommate would be excellent to enlist in aiding with this task. He's very good with projects-- this house is a testament to that fact. I've just been lazy. The unbearable summer heat in central Florida does not lend itself to motivating me to spend a great deal of time outside.
(If I could describe my life in six words it would be: Plants seeds and watches them grow. But that's another post.)
Anyway, back to Slow Food. There was a benefit at the Peabody last night for Eat Local Week in Orlando, which will be in November. Being a somewhat fledgling foodie (honestly, I just don't make enough money to be a full-on foodie!) I thought it would be fun to attend this event. A couple of weeks ago I told my friend Linette about it. She was game, I bought the tickets... We were committed.
Because school begins on Monday, yesterday (all week, really) had been a really busy, stressful day. Getting out of my comfort zone and into a completely new experience was just the ticket to leave the Good Counselor behind. I was excited about getting dressed up and going to the Peabody, but a part of me was exceedingly nervous. Would we be dressed right? Would we be seated at a table with 10 other people, or would we be on our own? Would we be the only newbies to a group of long-established colleagues and friends? So many unknown variables!
I didn't get home from work until nearly six o'clock, and was due to pick up my "date" at 6:30. I jumped in the shower, made myself fresh and lovely, asked Chuck his opinion on my shoes, and was out the door. Before I left, Chuck offered the following wisdom.
Jen, you might meet a nice chef tonight.
Chuck, chefs work nights.
Nothing is perfect! Stop looking for perfect!
I was only a few minutes late picking Linette up. A stop at my bank, and we were on our way to the biggish city near our small town.
The information on the benefit said that valet parking would be complimentary, and since it was raining when we got to the hotel, we took advantage of this offer. I typically avoid using a valet at all costs (it just seems like a waste of money-- I can park my own car!), but made an exception due to the weather and the blissful lack of charge. The valet asked if we were checking into the hotel, we explained that we were there to attend an event, and he directed us where to go.
Excellent.
We treaded our high-heeled feet carefully down a winding marble staircase, checked in at the welcome table, and we were in! We surveyed the space-- there were eight stations serving salads, rock shrimp and grits, lamb meatballs, egg torte with potatoes served with a red pepper coulis, panna cotta made from local cheese, amazing artisan bread with olive oil, pasta, and of course, the table containing the piece de resistance, dessert! There were also two tables serving local, organic beer and wine to savor as well as wash down all of the incredible food.
I stood in front of the panna cotta, while Linette walked away for a moment. I was uncharacteristically frozen. The serving tongs overwhelmed me... I wasn't quite sure how to pick up the little pyramids of panna cotta without smooshing them. Suddenly I heard a masculine voice behind me...
Go on... get in there!
I turned around and was faced with a guy about my age, dressed sharp, with nice eyes and a friendly smile. Sorry... umm... do you want to go ahead of me? I feel ridiculous... I'm not quite sure what to do! I have never failed myself so horribly.
Would you like me to serve you? He placed a piece of panna cotta on my plate, then asked if I would like some of the blueberries artfully placed on the platter to compliment the cheese.
Yes, please... Blueberries help with memory. This was my chance to start a real conversation... Then Linette walked up. We all chatted for a second, then she and I left to find a table. Jen... I'm sorry! He was cute!
It's okay. I panicked! I didn't know what to do-- or what to say!
After having our fill of all the stations save dessert, we noticed Nice Cute Guy talking with an older gentleman near us. We made a plan to thank him for his assistance with the panna cotta, and walked over. Linette was awesome. Suddenly, we were all talking about our backyard vegetable gardening. It was so easy! A few minutes later, Nice Cute Guy was called away by one of his friends, and never returned. That's okay... we were just happy to have made the attempt. It's all part of the process. Polite Older Gentleman regaled us with extensive information about the multitude of Happy Hour specials that can be found in Orlando. I felt like I should have been taking notes, but there was no opportunity for any writing! He held the table for us while we got dessert, and we did the same for him.
A bit later, the conversation had run its course, and we all excused ourselves. Linette and I got the valet ticket validated, and then left to explore the hotel. We searched in vain for the famed Peabody ducks-- not really expecting to find them, but enjoying the search nonetheless. I had heard that the Peabody had a new lounge with live jazz, so I asked one of the hotel employees about it. He looked utterly perplexed, then directed us toward an elevator that would take us to the 26th floor. One we arrived, we found ourselves at the concierge lounge, accessible only by room key.
Not what we had in mind.
There were several employees just inside the door, so I beckoned to a young woman and she walked outside. I told her what were looking for... Oh, you want to go to Rocks! It's on the main lobby floor! We went back to the elevator by way of a huge window that looked out on the city all lit up and looking pretty in it's nighttime finery. A short time later, we located Rocks, found the perfect place to sit, and enjoyed the jazz. Linette ordered the a girlie drink-- the house specialty-- and I had a club soda. Linette had been the driver the last time we ventured out on a Friday night, so it was my turn to drink responsibly, which was fine.
The lounge, which was billed as the place to see and be seen, was virtually empty, aside from one other group sitting on the other side of the room. We enjoyed the low-key atmosphere, the good music, and planned future outings.
Then she got a text from a friend of ours that had graduated with Linette in My Small Town High School. Did we want to meet him and another friend at the Big Sports Bar in Our Small Town?
We were overdressed, but figured, Why not?! So, when we finished our beverages, we retrieved the car from the valet, and returned to My Small Town. Before we made our entrance, Linette looked at me and joked, When we walk in, the music is going to stop, and all eyes will be on us and our fancy clothes.
I know.
Deep breath, and we opened the door to Wrangler jeans, cowboy boots, guys with ball caps, girls with big hair and lots of makeup. The usual in My Small Town. We found the boys, and had a really fun time catching up on a Friday night in Our Small Town. Even if we stood out like sore thumbs. The purpose was to see old friends, not to meet a potential date... although you never know!
Linette had an early morning run so we left a bit before midnight.
I came home and collapsed into bed, happy that even though I didn't meet the love of my life in the form of a great chef (I didn't expect to!), I had fun doing something different and getting out with my good friend... isn't that what Friday nights are all about?
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