The menu.
The Playbill. (Cocktail menu, too)
The view.
The story:
When you don’t get out much, a visit to a restaurant is a big deal. Having the opportunity to experience a fine dining establishment like Monarque in Baltimore is all of that, exponentially enhanced.
Now, Monarque is not exactly a daytime place. Known for cabaret - - and even burlesque - - Monarque gleams by night. Photos show a place of glamour that hovers precariously near what my mother might have called a den of iniquity. That is, if a den of iniquity had a fabulous bar and an exquisite menu.
Yet on Sunday for brunch it was positively bright and airy and the ambiance was easy and comfortable. This is a place that can somehow turn itself around to become a place you can take your mother. And that was a good thing, since it was Mother’s Day.
The service was gracious - - not overly stuffy or self-important. Every person we came in contact with gave us their best. From the moment we entered the restaurant until we departed we were made to feel valued and at home.
The music was straight out of the American songbook. The vocalist and pianist were perfection.
There’s no way I can give justice to the food and drink and no, I didn’t photograph any of it because I was too busy living in the moment. Here’s a quick rundown:
He: some kind of gorgeous mocktail with fresh ginger, She: Bombay Saphire Gin and Tonic
He: French Onion Soup, She: Shrimp Cocktail
He: Steak and Eggs with Mushrooms, She: French Toast stuffed with Italian meringue and bathed in strawberries
Every sip, every bite tasted of pure, fresh ingredients, culinary creativity, and careful execution. I was legitimately teary. Perhaps, when one has such an experience so rarely, it is all the more precious.
I have learned that in fine dining establishments (what I would call “fancy restaurants”) it is not unusual for the actual manager to stop by every table to connect with guests and make sure everything is to their liking. I don’t know if it is usual for the guests to ask for a photo with the manager and it certainly isn’t a thing I would do under ordinary circumstances. But this was not an ordinary day.
So here we are, at Monarque Baltimore, posing with the General Manager. Who is our daughter.
As we drove home I thought of Emily’s poignant question in Thornton Wilder’s Our Town.
Does anyone ever realize life while they live it...every, every minute?
On Sunday we did. And I am very, very grateful.
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