By the Secret Diner –
From my last review, did you figure out where Mrs. Secret Diner and I ate pizza? I reviewed Tony’s Pizza, 186 East Thompson Blvd., Ventura. Do give them a try. Tell them The Secret Diner sent you.
Now for my latest review – can you where we ate dinner?
We had guests for the holiday, royalty from the midwest. Mrs. Secret Diner’s mom and dad were here and joined us on our recent dining mission. Mrs. Diner’s dad and I are the two members of a prestigious club, he the president and I his VP. We are The Curmudgeons. “Hizzoner” and I share a disdain for traffic, people in our way, stupid questions. You name it, we can find something that irritates us about it. It’s a charming grumpiness, though, not mean or hateful.
Mrs. Diner likes to rile him. Dad?
Yeah?
Are there sharks out there?
Yasss. It’s the damn ocean, honey.
And Mrs. Diner’s mom, her job is to wrangle us all. I’m sure we are exasperating, but she does it with such love and charm. I do my best to keep her on her toes, always bringing the Cool Whip for her desserts. The First Lady of The Curmudgeons does not suffer Cool Whip. She whips her own cream, and her peach pies are famous!
Therefore, no measly taco shack or chowder house would do for our guests. We set out in search of something special.
Our destination was a short walk from their hotel, and we took them on a route through one of our favorite parks in Ventura. We call it “Big Tree Park.” We took the requisite photos and plunked one another with ripe figs. Just a few more blocks.
Beautiful, reclaimed wrought iron gaslight fixtures, no longer lit with gas, frame the restaurant’s entrance. I earned some points with Mrs. Diner for securing a reservation and we were taken right to our seat.
We were led to a scooped out booth near the back, autumnal colors and patterns on the upholstery. There is seating available in booths, tables, outside and at the gorgeous bar of heavy, reclaimed wood. Warm and strong. Mrs. Diner and I have logged some happy hours at this bar. Magnum wine bottles line a ledge over the bar and kitchen pass.
Before we’d even ordered drinks or food, a jazz quartet counted into their first number. The night was already special, and we hadn’t had a bite. All of me…why not take all of me…
To drink, The First Lady ordered a Pinot Noir. Mrs. Diner went with a Rose, the recommended pairing for the pasta special she was eyeing. Hizzoner ordered a Baileys on the rocks, and I asked for their specialty Manhattan. We clinked a toast and launched into story-telling mode – stories of work, stories of home and childhood. Mrs. Diner’s folks had lots of questions about our secret dining mission, and we whispered our answers so as not to be discovered.
For dinner both The First Lady and Hizzoner went for the lasagna. I thought this a bold move from him, anyway. For fifty or more years, the First Lady’s lasagna has been his favorite. If we are home visiting and there is a lasagna in the fridge. Expect Hizzoner to follow you into the kitchen to make sure you don’t sneak a slice. “Where are you going?” he’ll demand. Mrs. Diners pasta special was a filled tortellacci with roasted cherry tomatoes, burrata, peas, and prosciutto chunks.
I asked for the Cannolicchi Alla Vodka Con Gamberi in a dreadful accent. I should have just pointed. While we waited for our food we teased our appetite with a basket of warm bread -an italian loaf and some toasty focaccia. We dunked our break in a delicious tomato bruschetta, saucy, with garlic, basil, black olives and just a little heat.
Our dishes arrived, steaming, and our server grated a dusting of cheese over each. We dug in and conversation nearly quit. Slow down, Mrs. Diner scolded me. Fantastic! The pasta al dente, the sauces creamy and savory.
How’s your lasagna, dad? Mrs. Diner asked. It’s OK, he acknowledged. You have to understand what incredibly high praise this was. For decades, he has been loath to recognize the merits of any lasagna save The First Lady’s. “It’s OK” is newspaper-worthy praise.
We settled our bill, Thank you Hizzoner! And shuffled into the night in time with the 4/4 shuffle of the band which had started back up. Dream a little dream of me…
What will you have to say about the meal there, Secret Diner?
That the only thing better than the food…was the company.
Think you know where we dined? Check out my next review to see if you are right, and to join us on our next adventure.
