Don, You do realize you have done it again? At least this time you have kept it within 500 miles of my home. And to think I was in the area last week.
No! Wait until spring. Get a room in the School House and book a table on the patio when you *know* it's going to be 70 degrees outside. Don't do it now.
I disagree. Do it NOW! Restaurants are somewhat ephemeral, and this restaurant is magnificent right now. The patio is a lovely spot for a meal, and certainly enhances the ambiance, but the food and service is outstanding inside or out, sunny and 70 or 40 degrees and raining.
Sounds good and no doubt the most practical idea. Can't handle these quick road trips any longer. Even our server "Sara, maybe?" at Little Serow asked if we been and said its not to be missed.
Definitely do it now! Both of the upstairs school house rooms have fireplaces!
lggl's post is pretty much The Definitive Closing Argument.
Do it now. The patio takes it from "perfect" to "Perfect," but I waited until I had a meal indoors, by myself, to raise it to Bold.
I have spent a disproportionate amount of time thinking about our Sunday brunch, and I wrote this to Tarver on Facebook last night:
"Okay, what do I need to do in order to replicate that steak and eggs dish, exactly? Next time, I'm going to hike ten miles before coming so I'm starving; today, you absolutely took me out, quantity-wise. But I've got to have that exact same dish again before I die, preferably sooner rather than later. THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU we both agreed it was the best steak dish we've ever had. We also agreed the parfait was the best broccoli dish we've ever had. Seriously, is it possible to make arrangements in advance to come back in and have that calotte?"
I haven't heard back from him, but I told Neal on the way out that I'd be back for dinner within a couple of weeks and I meant it. The Steak and Eggs was one of the singularly great dishes of my life - the "critic" in me can nitpick it for being on the "saucy" side. But you know what? The critic in me can blow me.
Nothing can make me forget my son's face during this meal, looking out into the mountains, the sun embellishing his fair-cast, winterized, red-headed skin with a barely discernible tone of light pink over the course of the two-hour brunch. I've only written one great thing in my life, and it is Meeting Chris Bianco (*) - if you remember me for one thing only, remember me for this.
(*) I have always regretted using the word "gap" instead of "pause." I struggled with this decision for many hours. If this is ever reproduced in the future, you have my blessing to use either word, the first painting a picture of the mountains; the second reflecting the ravages of ovarian cancer.