Ah-Hem

They had been truly happy, spending their days at the far beach with the deep fine sand and swimming through the small powerful waves and out to where it was deeper. The sand was smooth and cool where the tide had gone out but there were rocks they had to step around which were small and smooth and easy to avoid. There was a line of bees on the sand every day where the tide had left them and they avoided them too. Many were dead but some were crawling or overturned and could still sting but they had not been stung. They came to the restaurant every evening when the streets were warm and hazy and hung with blue flowers and they sat at a table against the wall. They sat where they could be by themselves and watch the baseball. Their hair was streaked with the sun and the salt and they laughed when the waiter brought them a menu of small dishes and said they looked like brother and sister.

The room was cool and dark and the windows shaded and people went through it in their bright colors and sat outside and did not see the small menu the waiter had given them. They ate slices of seared ahi that tasted cool and clean with the bite of the pepper and the tang of the crisp green papaya salad, and very sweet, very juicy ripe cantaloupe wrapped with prosciutto crudo that was salty and lightly peppered and drizzled with olive oil. The waiter poured a little rosé for them that was cheerful and fruity but dry at the finish and nice after the heat of the day. “Don’t we have wonderful simple fun?” the girl said. The young man smiled at her and they watched as the ball splashed into the green water and the people in the little boats paddled and splashed to the place where the ball floated in the water under the bright lights.

They shared a filet that was grilled and very tender, with sweet smoky port sauce and grilled portobellos. The steak was a small medallion but the flavor was very big and the waiter brought them glasses of a Zin made by a friend of the patrón whose vineyard was in the mountains. The mountain was famous for the grapes that grew in the hot days and foggy cool nights and the restaurant was proud of the wine. The waiter brought a plate of beef stroganoff, which the restaurant made only on Sunday but today there was extra and he brought it to them because the girl was a great beauty and they liked her. The noodles were wide egg noodles that curled along the edge and the beef and fat shiitakes and tomato beef jus and crème fraiche were wonderful with the wine.

They ate cheaply and well and finished their wine and stood to leave. The waiter, whose name was Carlos, embraced the young man and kissed him and then kissed the girl.

“Forgive me, Señora, it is not every day we open such a wine.”

Small Plate Menu, Monday only,
at the bar, Sage in Eastbluff.