dinner with milo (m)

Milo was the Executive Vice President of a global advertising agency based in New York.  He was assigned to my business for over 10 years.  We had a very good working relationship but never a personal one.

Last week, Milo called to invite my husband and me to dinner with him and his wife.  My husband jumped at the invitation, which surprised me.  "He's an interesting guy," is what T said about Milo.

I was nominated to choose the restaurant but I had to stay within spec:

-great food
-great atmosphere
-within a short walk of the chic hotel where they were staying

My husband and I discussed these criteria and came up with one place, right at the top of a hill next to The State House and overlooking The Frog Pond.  Owned by a renowned chef.

I had been to this restaurant once before and was not impressed.  I am not a culinary neophyte and do not appreciate having to have some smug waiter explain every dish to me as there are ingredients or cooking terms of which I have never heard.   Once I got through the glossary of terms, there were very few things I would venture to eat, let alone desire.

I booked the reservation and went online to look at the menu.  Sigh.  Nothing that remotely excited me.

I spent the afternoon at home.  Biked 6 miles, made a full dinner for Harrison (meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans almondine, fruit salad, green salad).  Then, I showered, did my hair and make-up and selected a nice outfit and my best jewelry.  I looked in the mirror.  For me, glamorous.

Driving to the restaurant, I tried to remember when I last saw Milo.  Seventy pounds ago.  Great.  This will be fun.

I walk into the restaurant and Milo and Renee are there, all dressed up.  He's wearing a bow tie and pocket square with his nice suit.  Very dashing.  She is elegantly understated.  My husband is a tad underdressed but looking very Brahmin which scores points in Boston.

I sit down at the table and Milo is beaming at me.  I'm ready for my compliments.  Here goes:

Milo: Wow!  Your hair looks terrific!
Renee: Is that The Artichoke Hairdo?
Me: What?
Renee: I believe that's what they call that hairstyle in New York: The Artichoke.  You're so lucky you have such thick hair that you can wear it that way.

Honestly, I don't know what appalled me more.....the thought that someone thinks I have a "hairdo" or the fact that, if so, it has a name like "The Artichoke".

Once we got off my hair, I wait for weight loss compliments that never come.  I order a simple green salad and grilled chicken, which, according to the waiter, is "from a farm in Vermont that although it has a French name will ruin chicken for you forevermore if I reveal it."

The salad is good but tastes as if there is no dressing in it (despite the 5 minute explanation of the very special balsamic vinegar).  The chicken is great (very moist, very tender, very white).  I split a dessert which is some kind of pound cake with coconut and orange (very delicate).  T has oysters, the chicken and a medley of ice creams (including ginger peanut butter).

We stay for two hours and talk about  many things: our past careers, what we are doing now, travel, kids, life, etc.

Then Milo, every the provocateur, asks me what I am most proud of since I left work.

The answer comes out before I could think: I'm most proud of my relationships with the people who matter in my life.  Since I quit work, I have become a better mother, a better daughter, a better wife, a better friend and  better neighbor.

As I drive home alone (T has his own car as he works in Boston), I wonder why I do not have my weight loss on the list of accomplishments.

I decide it probably is one of two reasons:

-the other things are far more important
-I'm only halfway to my goal.