Post a Comment On: Confessions of a Restaurant Whore

These days I get one night off a week. Last week it was Friday, and we spent it at our most favorite of favorites. This week, it was last night, and since my homeboy, Scott, had returned from Mexico, we decided to pay him a visit at Coco500.

We could not have picked a better night.

Why?

Because this was the night that Mario Fucking Batali was also dining at Coco500. You may remember how much I adore Mr. Batali.

It gets better.

Traci Des Jardins was there, too. And Elizabeth Falkner. And Frank Langello, the executive chef at Babbo.

And yet, there's more.

Here I was peeing my pants with star-struckness, when Scott points to the end of the bar and says "You have a fan down there." Apparently, she had asked him if it was Elizabeth Falkner next to us, and he replied by telling her "Yes, and that's the Restaurant Whore." Then she began peeing her pants. I'm not sure I've ever felt like more of a rockstar.

On our way out, I told Traci that she should be eligible for sainthood because of her fucking awesome food and her even more awesome commitment to social responsibility. This woman is, without a doubt, a true hero.

Then Loretta (Coco's chef for those of you in the remedial class) was gracious enough to introduce us to Mario and Frank, who could not have been nicer (even going so far as to give us a secret way to secure a Babbo reservation).

I'm not quite sure a high like that can be attained without some hardcore drugs. It was that euphoric an experience.

There could not have been a better way to spend my night off. Then, again, my bastard husband (love you, honey!) got to spend the afternoon strolling around his work campus with Harold McGee so I guess his day trumps mine. Still, I'll take what I can get.

Life is good.

xoxo
Joy

"To eat is a necessity. To eat intelligently is an art."
-- La Rochefoucauld

P.S. I forgot to mention that prior to the meal, I had coffee (well, iced chai and hot chocolate if we are arguing semantics) at Ritual with the fabulous Kristen. I thought we might spontaneously combust as the probability of there being two actor/acting teacher/food bloggers in the bay area is about 1 in a gazillion. By the way, she fucking rocks.