"Table for One," Wherein We Play Restaurant Critic

Time was when we dreaded dining alone, which is to say back in the day when (a) we were younger and (b) spent a considerable amount of time on the road in the course of making our way in this world.  There's nothing quite like the "table for one" experience for announcing to the whole frickin' world a certain social inadequacy... most specifically one's inability to find a suitable dining partner... regardless of the circumstances.  We made do back in the day but we didn't like it.  Not at all.  Times change and our attitudes change with them, thank The Deity at Hand.  It doesn't bother me at all to dine alone these days.  One of the better things about reaching "a certain age" is the ability to say "fuck 'em!" whenever circumstances warrant.  So... that said, we ventured out to Vines on the Courthouse Square this past evening.  Alone.

(Image from Clovis Pulse.)

I heard about Vines from a beer distributor... back when I was looking for a local source of Chimay.  That lil adventure didn't pan out, as the Beer Emporium in question never did call me back.  We're extracting our revenge by never, ever patronizing that bid'niz again.  Ever.  I hold grudges and one grudge in particular: it's inexcusable if you don't call me back when you say you will.  Period.  End of report.  So, digressions aside, said beer distributor told me "that new Eye-talian place in town serves Chimay."  And it's true: they do.  We opened up our evening at Vines with a Chimay Blue, served in a proper glass.  Like this:

We shall have more to say about beer and cigars in due course, but right now we're on about our meal.  Our salad course was a garden variety (heh) house salad with a raspberry vinaigrette, which was good but not exceptional.  The salad came with a single soft bread stick along with a small dipping plate of olive oil infused with herbs.  Typical Italian restaurant fare in other words, but good none the less.

We deviated from the Italian bits on the menu... which were fairly predictable, with lotsa marinara dishes and the like...  and ordered a New York strip steak for our entree.  I'm pleased to report the steak was cooked to perfection... which is to say rare but not raw.  The only sides were a humongous baked potato (done to a fluffy turn, with nary a hard bit to be found) and another bread stick, both of which met expectations.  We had a glass of pinot noir along with our steak which, once again, met expectations but was nothing we'd rave about, nor inquire about the source winery or vintage.  It was simply adequate.

Dessert was the house take on tiramisu and strong, fresh Italian-style coffee, both of which were excellent.  The house prepares their tiramisu in a manner best described as a very light chocolate mousse, rather than the fruity cake concoction one most often gets when one orders this dessert.  My server and I had a brief discussion on the subject before I ordered, she being careful to set my expectations that I would not receive a traditional tiramisu should I order the house version.   So noted, said I... and I was not disappointed in the least.

So.  We hit the wall, settled up, and left pleased and pleasantly full.  Our bill was a little over 44 Yankee dollars, 15 of which were for alcohol, not including the tip for our server.  Not bad for what we got in return, and I shall return.  It's my duty to patronize local establishments, yanno?  Particularly those that provide a pleasant experience.

Now about the beer and cigars...  My meal was incomplete.  Time was when a civilized establishment in these United States offered a gentleman the opportunity to finish off a good meal with coffee, cognac, and a cigar.  No more.  In these politically-correct days one must return to one's house and take his post-prandial pleasures... which is to say a cigar and suitable beverage of choice... alone.  

Which is what we did, wherein we returned home, fired up a CAO Italia Novella (only right and proper, given the circumstances), indulged ourself with three fingers of single malt, retired to the verandah, and watched the sun go down.  But we would have considered ourselves better served if we had had the opportunity of enjoying our coffee and a cognac along with our cigar in the restaurant, right after our meal.  Those days are gone and more's the pity.  But we have our memories of better days, don't we?  I pity those who never had the experience.