Celebrating...

Last night was my belated celebratory Birthday dinner, which I somehow stretched into an entire day. I fussed around, had my Starbucks Christmas Blend (remember Starbucks equals the Evil Empire, but I love their Christmas Blend), read the New York Times and watched a few of my cooking shows that I tape. Next thing I knew it was 3pm – where did the day go? Luckily Dan had headed over to Manhattan earlier in the day, so I had the luxury of our pea pod sized bathroom to myself. Dan can take over a bathroom worse than a sorority sister before the spring fling. For my last Birthday in my 40’s, I pulled out all the stops. I carefully dried my hair, didn’t leave a strand damp. I actually put on mascara…something I hate to do. Hate is a strong word for a makeup application but mascara is no easy task. Its also depressing I might add, to try and put on mascara when you do not have eyelashes anymore! It’s not as if I ever had gorgeous thick eyelashes, but this is ridiculous. Where did they go for heavens sake? Ugh, like I said, depressing but I pressed on. I decided on the standard all black outfit for the evening, hoping for that magical slimming effect. I noticed as I gave myself the once over while walking out the door, that my "fancy" black sweater had a big crease across the chest from being folded for so long! That’s a pathetic statement on my social life. It was too late to change so I said a little prayer that the crease would fall out over the course of the evening, hopefully before dinner. I left the apartment, trudging through the newly fallen snow to the 7 train and into Manhattan to meet Dan. I found him at the Ritz Carlton on Central Park South, where we go for our Birthday drinks. I’d like to think we were regulars there, but we don’t have the bankroll for that. The best bartender in Manhattan is there, Norman. Norman is a classic and he makes us feel like regulars, which is one of the reasons why we adore him. Another reason is he calls me young lady, which I drink up even faster than the perfectly chilled champagne. The bar room at the hotel is stunning any time of year, but during the holidays it is spectacular. I recommend it for a splurge.
After drinks, we went to Marea Restaurant, which is the third of Chef Michael White and restaurateur Chris Cannon’s dining establishments. To quote their website, they serve “a fresh interpretation of Italian coastal cuisine.” The dinner was simply mouth-watering. The service was impeccable but didn’t intrude. We ordered the tasting menu: seafood, pasta, main, dessert. Every plate was indeed fresh, perfectly balanced and bursting with flavor. Dessert was decadent and refreshing at the same time. The restaurant itself wasn’t stuffy, it had a comfortable modern vibe to it, with rich dark wood walls and red modern chandeliers. When I walked downstairs to the ladies room, I felt like I was on an expensive yacht. (Is there any other kind?) There was an initial moment of panic when we were first seated. I worried my derrière wasn’t going to fit into the petite hip leather chair they graciously pulled out for me (it really was small!) but I wiggled my way down into its cushion and saved myself any potential embarrassment. The chair was definitely form over function, the sides of it hugged my like an old fashioned girdle. I did however completely forget all about that small chair when the first few dishes arrived. With each dish, the meal transported me to a small seaside town in Italy somewhere. Somewhere that had a big comfy chair. After dinner, we jumped into a cab to see the towering Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. Gazing at that twinkling tree covered in lights could put even Scrooge in the holiday spirit. It was a lovely Birthday and a special one. Dan, the hopeless romantic that he is, surprised me again.