So this was my second Fathers Day and a wonderful day it was. Cara has begun work at a new resort which insists that its staff spend a night with them as guests. No problem. They are also encouraged to invite their families. Merci beaucoup!
Waking up in a four star resort is kind of awesome. A breakfast buffet by the sea is even awesomer.
We got home in the afternoon just in time for Caia Skye to have a nap. Then, we went next door to Megan and Rene’s to enjoy a Fathers Day dinner and some wine.
On the menu: Bruschetta, Caesar Salad, Gnocchi Bolognese, Garlic Bread, Chocolate Gelato with Chocolate Almond Biscotti, Decaf Espresso with Coffee-Infused Whipped Cream
That was my Fathers Day dinner. What’d you have?
It must be said that when Megan outdoes herself, she outdoes herself well. The bruschetta was a beautiful blend of ingredients; perfectly balanced, light but not empty. Each flavour complimented the other. Garlic flirted with basil; olive oil with tomato. It was a symphony.
The Caesar salad wasn’t bad either, (if by not bad, you mean wicked) as Megan used a lighter, less creamy dressing, instead of the thicker, eggier version most of us are used to. And it was a good thing, too, since it allowed us more room for the gnocchi.
Like tiny little pillows, they were, landing sleepily on our tongues. But instead of a cheesy, cream sauce, Megan opted for a heartier Bolognese. And it was marvellous. The contrast of sharp, acidic flavours from the tomatoes and beef was tempered by the soft texture and taste of the dumplings. You know it’s good when people are halfway through their plates before anyone speaks.
We took a break while Cara put the baby to bed, and to allow our stomachs to relax, waiting, anticipating, the sweetness that was to come.
All the while, we enjoyed a very nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.
Wine: Beringer, Founders’ Estate, Sauvignon Blanc, California, 2009, $210.95 MXN
Rating: Two-and-a-Half Bottles
This was a really nice find. While at the resort, the Royal Haciendas, we ran out of preserves, so I made my way down to the store they have there. I was impressed to find a half decent wine selection. I came across this Beringer, which I was drawn to by the shape of the bottle. (I know, right? I’m an idiot.)
Crisp, and on the slightly sweeter side (but in a good way). Pear, apple, and grapefruit dominate this lovely little uva, and we drank it slowly, savouring each sip.
It warmed well, too, which is a rarity in whites. Generally, we’ve found that as a white wine warms up it takes on a sourness that is almost always unpleasant. Not so with the Beringer. It kept its character to the very end and was a find accompaniment to dinner. Although a red might have suited the fare a little more, bear in mind that it is a zillion degrees Celsius down here, and five hundred percent humidity. We finished off the bottle just in time for dessert.
The chocolate gelato, Megan found at Walmart. The rest, was her. She made the chocolate biscotti from scratch. She whipped the cream and infused it with coffee. She made the decaf espresso. She blew our minds. It was a labour of love, honouring my second year as a dad, and I loved her for it.
As the meal settled into our now full bellies, we contemplated watching The King’s Speech, but then we all of us started to doze, and knew it was time for bed.
Not a lot of laughs this week, but that’s what happens when everything goes smoothly.*
Next week, I promise I’ll get back in the kitchen so you all have something to grin about. “Oh that Craig … Always burning something!”
*I thought about detailing my night at the resort, the near-tropical storm that raged throughout the night, waking the baby in the middle of the night; my prostatitis that makes me feel like I need to tinkle every thirteen seconds; the fact that the only bathroom in the condo was blocked by a restless toddler in a strange crib who awoke with the slightest noise, screaming for “mama;” because Cara had meetings all day starting in the morning and I snore, I slept on the couch, without a blanket, dreaming of Terminator 3 (why?!?). But I thought it would seem a little douchey of me. You know, to complain about your free night at a luxury resort? A little wanky. So I didn’t complain. I recounted. Fuck you.