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bunnyjadwigaSo, Christopher left his electric toothbrush at our house this weekend. Instead of running out and buying a new one (hurray for willpower!) he arranged to meet me where 287 meets 78 in NJ for a custody exchange (of toothbrush, that is) on Tuesday night.
As we were on the cell phones, speeding towards our meeting point, he put me in charge of scoping out a restaurant.
So, we ended up in Bedminster, at Trattoria Mediterranea. (The alternative seemed to be a place with a sports bar. My opinions on sports bars are unprintable but can be summed up as 'not unless their clams are less than $2/dozen'.)
Since the place is next to a Sub shop, I wasn't sure what we would find inside. Once we got inside the door and took in the low lighting, the cloth napkins and table cloths, and the crockery decorated with the restaurant's name and logo (really cute-- it's three legs conjoined and overall a medusa's or nymph's head), I was glad I was wearing a dress. :) It was a small place, maybe 15 tables. I had noticed a van outside that indicated that they do catering as well.
We were escorted to our seats by a smooth-talking Italian maitre-d', and after an initial snafu with the menus (we first got the lunch menu), we settled down to look. I considered making Christopher order for me, but when I asked him, he said, "You want the bruschetta. You always want the bruschetta." "Not here!" I hissed. "Why?" "Because I'll drop it down my front and this place is too upscale for that!"
So, we waited for our waiter/maitre-d' to come back, and he gave us the rundown on the specials. By careful concentration, we managed to detangle about half of them from his charming accent. (Christopher said the last time he was trying that hard to read lips he was watching a blue film.) We were too embarrassed (at least I was) to ask him to repeat, but that didn't matter, as it all sounded delicious.
Eventually we settled on the antipasti plate for the appetizer. It came out looking a little lost on a big white Italian platter, sort of Italian noveau cuisine: one 6" homemade sausage, a slice of dried cured sausage, a 2"x1" deep fried mashed potato thing, a slice of eggplant parmiagian, something involving cooked zucchini, two high class olives, an unidentified deep friend thing, and some fresh mozzarella and slices of tomato. I have to say, other than the unidentified deep fried thing, I liked it all, and actually loved the zucchini, sausage, eggplant, olive. (my friends will be astonished.) I was somewhat disappointed about the tomato, though, as it is a firm belief of mine that crunchy tomatoes should not be served in the Northeast anywhere between July 15 and the first frost. The fresh mozzarella made up for it, though.
Christopher got a wiggly pasta in creme sauce with peas, mushrooms and some meat (he asked for the meat specially). With a little cheese and fresh-ground pepper it was the perfect Italian comfort food. High class casserole. It makes my stomach all warm and happy just to remember it.
I got-- wait for it, kids-- pumpkin ravioli in a sage-cream sauce. The pumpkin filling was mixed with a soft curd cheese of some kind, and the ravioli skins had been rolled out so thin you could almost see through them. Each ravioli was somewhat flat, but about 4" on a side, and there were four of them. The Sage cream sauce was just the right amount of astringent/cream to go with the rich taste of the pumpkin and cheese. I was almost entirely full just on it, without sneaking bites off Christopher's plate, but everyone knows you have to do that.
So, they asked if we wanted dessert. I'd seen fruit-sorbet skins going back to the kitchen from another table, so that's what I asked for. After a little inquiring about cheesecake, Christopher decided that he, too, would have a lemon sorbet. We squabbled good-naturedly over whether they were the commercial kind, but eventually, digging luxuriously through the sweet-sour ice, he had to admit that they were not (the whole, large lemon was hollowed out through a relatively small hole in the *top* (not half way, like the commercial kind), the lemon was filled back up to overflowing with sorbet and 'iced' around the top with it, and the frozen 'cap' of the lemon stuck in at an angle. Very nice presentation. Delicious, decadent dessert. Better than chocolate mousse mice.
Ok, it was pricey (~$60 for both of us). But would we go back there again sometime? Oh yeah.
As we were on the cell phones, speeding towards our meeting point, he put me in charge of scoping out a restaurant.
So, we ended up in Bedminster, at Trattoria Mediterranea. (The alternative seemed to be a place with a sports bar. My opinions on sports bars are unprintable but can be summed up as 'not unless their clams are less than $2/dozen'.)
Since the place is next to a Sub shop, I wasn't sure what we would find inside. Once we got inside the door and took in the low lighting, the cloth napkins and table cloths, and the crockery decorated with the restaurant's name and logo (really cute-- it's three legs conjoined and overall a medusa's or nymph's head), I was glad I was wearing a dress. :) It was a small place, maybe 15 tables. I had noticed a van outside that indicated that they do catering as well.
We were escorted to our seats by a smooth-talking Italian maitre-d', and after an initial snafu with the menus (we first got the lunch menu), we settled down to look. I considered making Christopher order for me, but when I asked him, he said, "You want the bruschetta. You always want the bruschetta." "Not here!" I hissed. "Why?" "Because I'll drop it down my front and this place is too upscale for that!"
So, we waited for our waiter/maitre-d' to come back, and he gave us the rundown on the specials. By careful concentration, we managed to detangle about half of them from his charming accent. (Christopher said the last time he was trying that hard to read lips he was watching a blue film.) We were too embarrassed (at least I was) to ask him to repeat, but that didn't matter, as it all sounded delicious.
Eventually we settled on the antipasti plate for the appetizer. It came out looking a little lost on a big white Italian platter, sort of Italian noveau cuisine: one 6" homemade sausage, a slice of dried cured sausage, a 2"x1" deep fried mashed potato thing, a slice of eggplant parmiagian, something involving cooked zucchini, two high class olives, an unidentified deep friend thing, and some fresh mozzarella and slices of tomato. I have to say, other than the unidentified deep fried thing, I liked it all, and actually loved the zucchini, sausage, eggplant, olive. (my friends will be astonished.) I was somewhat disappointed about the tomato, though, as it is a firm belief of mine that crunchy tomatoes should not be served in the Northeast anywhere between July 15 and the first frost. The fresh mozzarella made up for it, though.
Christopher got a wiggly pasta in creme sauce with peas, mushrooms and some meat (he asked for the meat specially). With a little cheese and fresh-ground pepper it was the perfect Italian comfort food. High class casserole. It makes my stomach all warm and happy just to remember it.
I got-- wait for it, kids-- pumpkin ravioli in a sage-cream sauce. The pumpkin filling was mixed with a soft curd cheese of some kind, and the ravioli skins had been rolled out so thin you could almost see through them. Each ravioli was somewhat flat, but about 4" on a side, and there were four of them. The Sage cream sauce was just the right amount of astringent/cream to go with the rich taste of the pumpkin and cheese. I was almost entirely full just on it, without sneaking bites off Christopher's plate, but everyone knows you have to do that.
So, they asked if we wanted dessert. I'd seen fruit-sorbet skins going back to the kitchen from another table, so that's what I asked for. After a little inquiring about cheesecake, Christopher decided that he, too, would have a lemon sorbet. We squabbled good-naturedly over whether they were the commercial kind, but eventually, digging luxuriously through the sweet-sour ice, he had to admit that they were not (the whole, large lemon was hollowed out through a relatively small hole in the *top* (not half way, like the commercial kind), the lemon was filled back up to overflowing with sorbet and 'iced' around the top with it, and the frozen 'cap' of the lemon stuck in at an angle. Very nice presentation. Delicious, decadent dessert. Better than chocolate mousse mice.
Ok, it was pricey (~$60 for both of us). But would we go back there again sometime? Oh yeah.
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no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 02:29 am (UTC)What I'm holding
Date: 2005-09-15 05:58 pm (UTC)http://www.livejournal.com/users/bunnyjadwiga/3923.html
no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 03:05 am (UTC)~grin~
Sounds like you had a marvelous night out. Toothbrush and all . . . I'm drooling here. Someone will have to give me directions should I ever darken the East's shores again . . .
no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 09:40 am (UTC)To quote Donkey from Shrek-the first one-"Hey, you got a napkin? I think I drooled on myself I got so excited..." from reading about your food. I'm jealous- ~S~ is the diner king and sometimes diner food is just not where it's at-LOL
no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 10:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 11:32 am (UTC)But it all sounds pretty good :)
Oh. My. God.
Date: 2005-09-15 12:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 03:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-16 01:23 am (UTC)