sleepydog25
Been here awhile
- Joined
- Aug 27, 2004
Remy, Part Un
Sun sinks, orange orb
Bathes white linens in our laps.
Glimmer in her eyes.
Once in a great while, you get an opportunity to enjoy a masterful meal. Sometimes that meal might be a rousingly successful attempt of a new recipe at home or perhaps a splendid meal at a friends house when you were dreading the green jell-o mold buffet. On rare occasion, at least for us, it means sitting down to a long, casually-paced meal of phenomenally prepared foods, a kaleidoscope of edible art. One of those moments was Remy. As you hopefully can tell by our pictures, we dressed nicely for the evening. As most know, Remy requires dress clothing which for men means a jacket is de rigeur. Personally, I enjoy dressing up when dining out at upscale establishmentsperhaps it is a throwback to an often forgotten standard or era, or maybe donning dress attire makes me feel special to match the food, or it could be the clothes highlight my ruggedly dashing visage. Whatever the case, I do enjoy the adventure especially when accompanied by a stunningly beautiful woman (see picture). She has a supernova smile to match alluring olive eyes that vividly dance. It was going to be a grand evening.
As before, we arrived a few minutes early and were asked to wait in Meridian until the staff was ready for us. Unlike the previous night at Palo, we opted to not have a drink nor did we bring a special bottle of wine to open either as we had been undecided on whether to do the wine pairing. Given we had eaten so much food (and done our fair share of drinking), we thought it better (and cheaper!) to forego the pairing, as well as the pre-dinner drink. Within a few minutes, a lovely lass approached our table with a second, even younger woman about three steps behind her, and the head waiter was even peering around the corner. It makes you feel special to be wanted by so many! Seriously, they were all very gracious, and the first woman steered us through the short foyer at the entrance to Remy, or as I dubbed it, The Hall of Dreams. On display in the wall to the right to our right were tens of dozens of expensive wine bottles, a treasure trove of vino. I strolled slowly, literally dragging my feet my feet in order to absorb the enormity of the moment. Nirvana. Olympus. I was in the midst of greatness that dwarfed my relatively small (and definitely less expensive) collection of wines at home. A Galapagos turtle moves more quickly than I did. I finally glanced up where I caught the Arched Eyebrow of Death from LOMF. Picking up my pace to join her and the hostess, we were shown to a most excellent table right next to the window, and even more impressive was the view that started with my gorgeous date and extended to the sun beginning to sink into the blazing sea.
The attentiveness we received that evening started immediately as a server stepped up to the window and began to lower the louvered blinds before we had settled properly into our seats. We noticed the same activity at the tables right behind both luv and me (whereas, we prefer to sit together, this occasion dictated we sit across from the other which actually was perfect as it allowed me to gaze at luv more easily). One might wonder why they chose to wait until the patrons were seated before lowering the shades, but the reason is two-fold: a) we were allowed to absorb the whole of the ambience and scenery, and b) the blind then was adjusted specifically to each couples need. My napkin was unfolded and placed across my lap. The young hostess actually brought luv a different napkinblack to match her dress. Further, any time either of us got up for a trip to the restroom, we were met at our table by a server who removed the napkin from the chair, scooted in said chair, then replaced the napkin on our laps.
Our primary attendant for the evening was Jerry. Yeah, the name doesnt seem to fit the restaurant, but he was a U.S. citizen by way of Canada or Ireland (what can I saywe dont remember) and had a vaguely continental accent. He was pleasant and knowledgeable without being pretentious or patronizing. As a way to further welcome us to Remy, he said we would be treated with both a gratis cocktail and an amuse-bouche from the chef. We thought, what a great idea! The drink was Cosmopolitan of sorts with a hint of Framboise. The amuse-bouche was a tomato bisque contained in a light pastry-like crust which the server warned we should entirely place in our mouthsand close said mouths before biting down. The morsel was delightful and flavorful, but a woman at a nearby table either wasnt listening or failed to heed the advice and in the process played bisque paintball with her blouse. Equally good was the aperitif which not only was tasty but complemented the bite as well.
As we reveled in the early experience, we heard a small thump, thump overhead. Thinking nothing of it, we continued our conversation (which with us never seems to drag) as we anticipated the rest of our meal. Clump, clump. We exchanged raised eyebrows. A small, bright yellow ball flew past the window and nestled between the bulkhead wall and the railing. Ahh, we exhaled simultaneously, the mini-golf course was directly overhead. Let me address the noise issue regarding Remy and the ill-placed golf course. There is no arguing that the location of this pint-sized mini-golf is laughable, and not in the ha-ha kind of way. . .more like derisive laughing. Given the upscale nature of both Palo and Remy, placing anything above those two restaurants that doesnt involve champagne bubbles or goose down was a mistake. The designers mustve had one too many appletinis at an office party one Christmas. That being said, the muffled thumps were quite infrequent and disappeared altogether once the darkness descended. Those noises had no significant impact our dining experience whatsoever other than providing us a chuckle and affording me the chance to pen another paragraph for this TR.
We were shown the menus and the extensive wine list, where we opted to get one glass of white and one glass of red. Though each glass was pricey, it was still much less expensive than the wine pairing though admittedly not as much fun. As we sat discussing our menu options, Jerry approached to see if we had any questions. The menu is divided into three categories: saveur (fresh), mer (sea), and terre (earth). We were having a difficult time deciding which plates to have since all of them seemed delectable. Jerry suggested we try them all. What a marvelous idea! With our indecision solved, we settled back into our seats, held hands across the table, and soaked up the relaxed ambience of the ocean, Remy, and each others company.
Next up: Remy, Part Deux
Sun sinks, orange orb
Bathes white linens in our laps.
Glimmer in her eyes.
Once in a great while, you get an opportunity to enjoy a masterful meal. Sometimes that meal might be a rousingly successful attempt of a new recipe at home or perhaps a splendid meal at a friends house when you were dreading the green jell-o mold buffet. On rare occasion, at least for us, it means sitting down to a long, casually-paced meal of phenomenally prepared foods, a kaleidoscope of edible art. One of those moments was Remy. As you hopefully can tell by our pictures, we dressed nicely for the evening. As most know, Remy requires dress clothing which for men means a jacket is de rigeur. Personally, I enjoy dressing up when dining out at upscale establishmentsperhaps it is a throwback to an often forgotten standard or era, or maybe donning dress attire makes me feel special to match the food, or it could be the clothes highlight my ruggedly dashing visage. Whatever the case, I do enjoy the adventure especially when accompanied by a stunningly beautiful woman (see picture). She has a supernova smile to match alluring olive eyes that vividly dance. It was going to be a grand evening.
As before, we arrived a few minutes early and were asked to wait in Meridian until the staff was ready for us. Unlike the previous night at Palo, we opted to not have a drink nor did we bring a special bottle of wine to open either as we had been undecided on whether to do the wine pairing. Given we had eaten so much food (and done our fair share of drinking), we thought it better (and cheaper!) to forego the pairing, as well as the pre-dinner drink. Within a few minutes, a lovely lass approached our table with a second, even younger woman about three steps behind her, and the head waiter was even peering around the corner. It makes you feel special to be wanted by so many! Seriously, they were all very gracious, and the first woman steered us through the short foyer at the entrance to Remy, or as I dubbed it, The Hall of Dreams. On display in the wall to the right to our right were tens of dozens of expensive wine bottles, a treasure trove of vino. I strolled slowly, literally dragging my feet my feet in order to absorb the enormity of the moment. Nirvana. Olympus. I was in the midst of greatness that dwarfed my relatively small (and definitely less expensive) collection of wines at home. A Galapagos turtle moves more quickly than I did. I finally glanced up where I caught the Arched Eyebrow of Death from LOMF. Picking up my pace to join her and the hostess, we were shown to a most excellent table right next to the window, and even more impressive was the view that started with my gorgeous date and extended to the sun beginning to sink into the blazing sea.
The attentiveness we received that evening started immediately as a server stepped up to the window and began to lower the louvered blinds before we had settled properly into our seats. We noticed the same activity at the tables right behind both luv and me (whereas, we prefer to sit together, this occasion dictated we sit across from the other which actually was perfect as it allowed me to gaze at luv more easily). One might wonder why they chose to wait until the patrons were seated before lowering the shades, but the reason is two-fold: a) we were allowed to absorb the whole of the ambience and scenery, and b) the blind then was adjusted specifically to each couples need. My napkin was unfolded and placed across my lap. The young hostess actually brought luv a different napkinblack to match her dress. Further, any time either of us got up for a trip to the restroom, we were met at our table by a server who removed the napkin from the chair, scooted in said chair, then replaced the napkin on our laps.
Our primary attendant for the evening was Jerry. Yeah, the name doesnt seem to fit the restaurant, but he was a U.S. citizen by way of Canada or Ireland (what can I saywe dont remember) and had a vaguely continental accent. He was pleasant and knowledgeable without being pretentious or patronizing. As a way to further welcome us to Remy, he said we would be treated with both a gratis cocktail and an amuse-bouche from the chef. We thought, what a great idea! The drink was Cosmopolitan of sorts with a hint of Framboise. The amuse-bouche was a tomato bisque contained in a light pastry-like crust which the server warned we should entirely place in our mouthsand close said mouths before biting down. The morsel was delightful and flavorful, but a woman at a nearby table either wasnt listening or failed to heed the advice and in the process played bisque paintball with her blouse. Equally good was the aperitif which not only was tasty but complemented the bite as well.
As we reveled in the early experience, we heard a small thump, thump overhead. Thinking nothing of it, we continued our conversation (which with us never seems to drag) as we anticipated the rest of our meal. Clump, clump. We exchanged raised eyebrows. A small, bright yellow ball flew past the window and nestled between the bulkhead wall and the railing. Ahh, we exhaled simultaneously, the mini-golf course was directly overhead. Let me address the noise issue regarding Remy and the ill-placed golf course. There is no arguing that the location of this pint-sized mini-golf is laughable, and not in the ha-ha kind of way. . .more like derisive laughing. Given the upscale nature of both Palo and Remy, placing anything above those two restaurants that doesnt involve champagne bubbles or goose down was a mistake. The designers mustve had one too many appletinis at an office party one Christmas. That being said, the muffled thumps were quite infrequent and disappeared altogether once the darkness descended. Those noises had no significant impact our dining experience whatsoever other than providing us a chuckle and affording me the chance to pen another paragraph for this TR.
We were shown the menus and the extensive wine list, where we opted to get one glass of white and one glass of red. Though each glass was pricey, it was still much less expensive than the wine pairing though admittedly not as much fun. As we sat discussing our menu options, Jerry approached to see if we had any questions. The menu is divided into three categories: saveur (fresh), mer (sea), and terre (earth). We were having a difficult time deciding which plates to have since all of them seemed delectable. Jerry suggested we try them all. What a marvelous idea! With our indecision solved, we settled back into our seats, held hands across the table, and soaked up the relaxed ambience of the ocean, Remy, and each others company.
Next up: Remy, Part Deux