Took mom out for her 77th (!) birthday to fancy-ass French restaurant Pascal. Pascal hasn’t lost it after, what, 25 years? What a meal. Wallet now empty, but a couple of hours of earthly delights later. Hrmofpghg. Blrghg. Brup? I had white bean & duck confit soup, rack of lamb with ratatouille, and tarte tatin. She had beet/hazelnut/goat cheese salad, bouillabaisse, crème brulée. Bottle of ’01 Beaune burgundy.
Hlrgbags. Frgghph. Glrpgh? Good thing I’m not rich or I’d do this more often.