Before I really start flagging, badly, let me try to get a blog entry up. And then crash. Ah insomnia. I need to keep an emergency supply of sleep aids on hand, perhaps, though I dislike the idea of drugging myself to sleep.
In any case, let's talk dinner, and a very good meal (I've had a couple, in fact) in Boston. Last night it was
L'Espalier. I wish I had brought a far better camera.
Dinner last night was a return to my tradition of dining out at conference with RAD, and a further return to dining with Mary Augusta and her husband George. RAD, Mary Augusta, and I had all served on a particular committee together, and it was through that and running into each other at nicer restaurants that we first decided - in DC - to dine together.
A fine meal in Alexandria that time. I'm the only one of the three of us on that committee now, though, and with the change to the scheduling of the conferences, we have had to shift from a Tuesday night meal to earlier in the extended weekend. Sunday it was, and while it meant missing a social, it also meant a very very very good time and food.
A side note - only an iPhone with me to take photos, and low restaurant lighting. Not that I'd change that. It's a remarkable room, and the entry by elevator was really sleek. Also (TK!): a coat check!
Alright then, a glass of Champagne in front of me, and after a little gougere and a smoked salmon stack as a pre-amuse bouche, out came the amuse bouche, a witty little seafood salad.

Why witty? It had elbow macaroni in it, an homage to the tuna casseroles and salads we all grew up with.
And then there was another amuse. George had been kind of keen on a particular menu item because of the shrimp potstickers that came with it. He then decided on a different dish, but lo, a plate of potstickers came by.

Well alright then, you're earning a good tip!
We were having the winter prix fixe, so three courses. Up first for me was breakfast. Really, it was. A coddled egg, slow cooked for hours (!!) and served atop a toast and that atop a hash of Indian spiced pork and potatoes

. Oh, I was tempted by the sweetbreads, but the egg sounded so offbeat and fun. I went for it. The sommelier, meanwhile, had recommended an interesting white wine to pair with our appetizers, the
L'Oustal Blanc Naick 6 from the south of France. Fragrant, sweet-scented, but soft, subtle, not acidic. I loved it, and I loved it with my food.
Dinner. I had no idea mine would be the one with the full production. I felt rather spoiled, happily so. A bowl was set in front of me. In it were lentils du Puy and baby turnip halves, each topped with a slice of black truffle.

Then the server removed pieces of Guinea hen from a hot pot he carried, adorning the meat with the juices.

Oh wow, this was good. The wine, meanwhile? Another excellent recommendation. Well, that and a treat. You see, I had noted a modestly priced Otago Pinot, the
Mt. Difficulty Roaring Meg, and mentioned it. It wasn't where the sommelier was leaning, but she offered to bring the bottle, pour us each a little so the others could taste it. And she sold us on the French red. The Roaring Meg was delicious, certainly. The French wine (I wish I could remember it) was a better match. No complaints from me.
Ah, but there's more. Dessert. How about this for an interesting sounding one: Barley and tea creamy custard with mango croquant and lime hibiscus; red bean ice cream.

Very. Good. the plating of the long strips and curls was really something as well. Ah, heaven. A cup of decaf, and I had one of the little sweets offered after that (blood orange gelee atop a milk gelee).
At the end of the meal, the sommelier shook all of our hands and asked our names. She and the other staff were an incredible enhancement to the evening, and I am very sorry I didn't have Conrad along. Well, another time. I hope.