Passed the hostess’ Congratulations, the continued Comp’d theme at the coat check, and the on-the-house celebratory glasses of Sparkling, was Mike. Mike was well mannered but casual; available, without lingering; he was willing to laugh, yet only with us; and most importantly (when like us, you are celebrating an anniversary) he was charming without distracting my girlfriend with flirtatious Jedi Mind-Tricks (that’s my job). Mike was more of a guide than a waiter. He offered us his sommelier side as well as the between-the-lines of the menu, complete with recommendations. Mike also went by ‘Mike’ and not ‘Michel’ or “Meeeeshelll-Le”, a quality one tends to appreciate when the restaurant is neither French nor overtly condescending. Let there be no confusion though, had a very French, very Michel waiter arrived at our table, and guided the hell out of the dinner service, as Mike did, I would be the first to slow-clap his mad restauranting skills. Truth; for truth I trade trust, and this non-Meeeeshelll-Le Mike avoided the caricature and shared a little bit of his true self on our special evening.
Fresh off our Okanangan wine tour, Kerry and I ordered a bottle of the 2008 Pinot Noir from Blue Mountain Vineyards (well priced with a silky texture that joined us from appetizer to après-dîner).
The evening allowed for the two of us to romantically reminisce, and smile, together, at our future. The simple, yet carefully created décor of the dining room stood around a space that provided an oddly comfortable balance of privacy and participation – when one has a glamorously gorgeous girlfriend, one wishes to share with the world her beauty… while he holds her hand and reminds on lookers what the score is, of course.
Complementing the conversation was the cuisine. I use this word intentionally; ‘cuisine’, not ‘food’, and far from anything that would make time with ‘grub’, ‘eats’, or ‘chow’. The chapters of our dinner presented themselves in a casual manner, and in a cleverly ironic fashion - there was no rush. From butter melting bread to our dueling desserts, the restaurant gave us a kind of culinary soundtrack; each dish contributing extra depth to the atmosphere of our anniversary (a duo of dessert delicacies is strongly advised, or a trio, do not fear the trio either). Our focus would drift from our two years, to talks of Taste and the ‘Art’ of the Culinary Arts, before finding ourselves again with a renewed smile. The exchange of an “Mmmmm”-and-a-furled-brow or an “Oooooo”-with-a-set-of-wide-eyes would have been enough to make ‘What about Bob?’ himself, in all his B-Murray glory, toss out a ‘When Harry met Sally’ and very much want what we were having…
Mike recommended both the Marinated Wild Pacific Halibut and the Alberta Beef Tenderloin, to go with our Duck Confit and Foie Gras Ravioli appetizer (les hors d'oeuvres in the area of $13 with entrées entertaining the $25-$35 range – a strong investment during these times of economic uncertainty). Kerry let the squid ink fettuccini, truffle scented dashi, ginger, and miso work with the Halibut to both bewilder and bewitch the taste buds, while my Meat and Potatoes dish abandoned Traditional for an exotic creativity; artichoke, smoked bacon, braised shallot, and confit potatoes were not so much Sides, as they were an extension of the tenderloin experience. It was a bitter sweetness to enjoy each bite, knowing that we were slowly losing the anticipation of the Chef’s work. Kerry and I were reluctant to go beyond a single bite-for-bite exchange; only true love let us part with the fork-full, we both knew that a second round of sharesies would have really put that love to work.
With all that said though, Rush isn’t for everyone. In fact, don’t go there… Part of the charisma of the night was knowing that Kerry and I had something so few were sharing. And although I have no fears of losing the uniqueness of the chemistry that holds us together (outstretched hands locked at the table’s centre), I do worry that others may translate this hidden gem into a hype that could steal away our secret. Reluctantly, I share my ‘four and a half Champagne Bubbles out of five’ rating with the world, hoping that in doing so I haven’t ruined Rush (with more irony of course, by causing a rush) – Kindness Killing, my most hated of Killing kinds.
In the same way we had entered, our departures were met with a warmth and invitation that will have us back. With the mystic of Vintage Chophouse, character of Buchanan’s, and elegance of Teatro, Rush makes the list and can enjoy my approval.
I am Jack’s impossibly high new standards.
_______________
Book ending our anniversary, in strength and simplicity, were flowers and a card; Can’t argue the classics. With Rush taking care of the dinner scene, I allowed the flora to announce the day to a waking Kerry. Now, I could colour each petal with a description of the flower’s creamy texture, and play with your senses by turning their dizzyingly beautiful perfume into a collection of dream like adjectives, but the flowers didn’t need that kind of flashy costume, so that wasn’t the focus; for a flower to truly be a Flower, they must embody something more, something of substance. The substance of this vase was two years worth of our story.
In the same way that the flowers allowed the morning to speak from the heart, so too did the card for the evening. It was one more surprise for Kerry to unlock; surprises after all, are the corner stone of any well respected special day.
When it comes to cards, I don’t like them – at least not hot off the Hallmark press. Someone else’s words standing front and centre, between our two hearts, in this most loving of moments… unacceptable. It feels cold, it feels awkward, it feels like Gift Card level cop-out. Exceptions, special circumstances, the perfect card; yes, I know, there’s a time and a place for Carlton and Hallmark to fight for your affection. However, in general, I think there is no substitute for the Personal, and therefore, no reason why one can’t steal back the moment with their own special touch.
Kerry’s card had been carved up and covered in the unmistakable personality de Jack. I took the cute photo front and the single line body and queued up memories, coded it with inside jokes, moved passed the mass produced with a made-to-measure moment starring her and I. The card had become something so beyond what was pulled off the shelf; the card was alive.
The anniversary was once again, ours.
_______________
And as I shared with her, we share with you…
With our Past driving our Future; I let love entangle itself with two mirrored moments, two tales of the same statement of passion, an echo of the pull between Kerry and I was at the centre of my card to her:
Loves Echo
Moments and memories light up the past
Narration retold from smiling eyes
A moon to the morrow’s sunrise
A fading radiance parallels the beauty of my future
A warmth over a shadowed forgotten
New life fills the empty yesterday
To touch is to relive
Beginning once more, the heart repeats
To remember is to anticipate
Our history we chase in what’s yet to reveal
The light, her light, is all I need
Her beauty, her life, strengthens my hope
