Sauternes or Melissa or Redd Foxx. Can’t decide what to call this.

What a day. We just got back from dinner at Cafe de Paris. We’ve eaten there before. A lovely menu and terrific food. HOWEVER. Our waitress tonight, Shana, was new. When we asked for a wine reco, she told us she was qualified to help, since she used to work at Olive Garden. Once we regained our composure, we ordered a lovely bottle of pinot noir. But let’s start at the beginning. It was happy hour and Shana told us that we could partake of the happy hour specials at the table, instead of the bar. When the check came, we found out that was not the case.

Dinner was delicious. I had Beef Bourguignon. Wonderful – particularly on a cold night like this. Melissa (see I said your name!) had fish, though I forget which. Her hub, Scott, had fish, too, I think. Andrew had duck.

We laughed. A lot. It was a great night. We toasted to Richard Pryor. Melissa told us that her Southern parents loved Redd Foxx – but then we cackled when we found out she meant Red Skeleton. What a hoot! We talked about the Northern Lights — Melissa and Scott made plans to take their boys to Alaska next year. We sat for hours. It was wonderful. We are lucky to have friends like this.

On the way out, the owner, Eric, asked how the meal was. We told him the food was good, but the waitress misled us regarding the drinks. He steered us to the bar where he had the bartender pour us Sauternes. It was great. We chatted. We laughed. We talked about Citronelle, where he evidently can pull strings. (note to self – use that new info!)

I also found out that Eric’s daughter went to school with my kids. Funny how small the world is. But what is truly remarkable is that because of the way Eric handled us, we’ll be going back. Now that’s service.