Author: meganheadley

With its hard skin, seed-filled cavities, and often unruly size, winter squash can intimidate even the savviest cooks. It’s absolutely worth tackling though—not only is squash inexpensive and packed with vitamins, but it’s also one of the only relics from the garden that can feed you through the winter. Fortunately, even if you don’t get up the courage to wield a large knife against the gargantuan gourds, you can still get your fix with these dishes that require nothing more than a fork and an appetite.

At Camino (above), fennel pollen-rubbed pork tenderloin joins a hash of serrano ham and local apples, roasted delicata squash, and broccoli rabe in a dish that’s a beautiful balance of sweet, savory, and bitter.

It’s roasted kuri squash (which looks like a pumpkin without ridges), chèvre, and sage that go into the flaky empanadas at MAS Tapas, where a dollop of cream and a drizzle of chestnut honey finish the dish.

After reading the description of Feast!’s (2) fall salad—roasted butternut squash, sliced local apples, aged gouda, spicy pecans, crispy bacon, arugula, and a sherry vinaigrette—you’d be crazy not to order it.

Get a megadose of Vitamin A at the Twisted Branch Tea Bazaar with the ginger-laced harvest pumpkin soup that will keep you happy and healthy.

Butternut squash ends the meal at Duner’s (3), where it becomes a silky, spiced pot de crème with buttery pecan shortbread cookies on the side.

Squash school
With more than 100 varieties, squash comes in every color and every shape. All considered fruits from the genus Cucurbita, they’re divided into three different species:

C. maxima: Winter squash with round, thick stems that include blue banana, hubbard, red kuri, and turban. Can be eaten through the winter when stored in a cool, dark place.

C. moschata: Winter squash with round stems that include butternut and musky winter squash. Can be eaten through the winter when stored in a cool, dark place.

C. pepo: Summer squash with pentagonal, prickly stems that include zucchini, crookneck, spaghetti squash, delicata, acorn, and most pumpkins. Should be eaten soon after harvest.

The case of the great missing pumpkin lattes
Starbucks began hyping its beloved Pumpkin Spice Latte as early as Labor Day and was, a month later, already experiencing shortages across the country. It has nothing to do with the great pumpkin shortage of 2011 though (there’s no actual pumpkin in the syrup), but rather a supply chain glitch. Now it seems that the distribution channels have all been restocked. Pumpkin latte crisis averted.

Good gourd!
The ways that competitive pumpkin farmers pamper their orbs (grow lights, warming blankets, manure, maple leaf, and molasses-rich compost, etc.) means that they can gain up to 50 pounds in one day. And with a $25,000 prize at stake in California, the race is on to be the first to break the one ton barrier.

Artisanally made cocktails are the new post-work entertainment. They lubricate conversation on a blind date and have the power to rouse even the most worn-in relationships. Here’s a pair of his/hers cocktails from the bar at Zinc that will get your lashes batting and your tootsies footsie-ing in no time. Of course, in this modern day, traditional gender roles or couplings need not apply, so feel free to shake things up according to your taste and mood. Just don’t overdo it. Even James Bond would have the sense to leave his Aston Martin behind after a few too many.

His
Loretto Sling
1 oz. Maker’s Mark
1/2 oz. Heering Cherry Liqueur
Dash Fee Bros. orange bitters
Splash lemonade
Splash club soda

Serve over ice and garnish with a lemon wedge.

Hers
Fall’s Market Fresh
1 1/2 oz. 10 Cane Rum
3/4 oz. Jacques Cardin French Brandy
Dash Pernod
1 1/2 tbs. pear juice (Saunders Brothers Olympic Asian Pears, Nelson County)

Shake with ice, strain into a martini glass, and garnish with pear slice.

Every cork dork loves a wine battle, especially when it involves rubbing France’s les nez in how good our wine’s gotten in the past five years. At the third annual Thomas Jefferson Wine Event in Staunton on October 13, Virginia wine won over French in four out of seven blind pairings. But save one man who was wearing a beret, there were no French at the competition to which to gloat. So what are these tastings out to prove, and to whom?

Recreating the famous 1976 Judgment of Paris in which then fledgling California took top scores in both whites and reds against the industry’s grand fromage (France), this Virginia vs. France tasting was as much a tribute to our own burgeoning industry as it was to Thomas Jefferson. Even though his 30 years of grape growing never amounted to a single bottle, he prophesied our success.

Gabriele Rausse, the viticulturist who came to Virginia from Italy the same year as the Judgment of Paris, spoke to the group gathered at Staunton’s RR Smith Center on Saturday, recalling the day he sat for six hours listening to all the reasons why he would fail. Three years later, he successfully grafted 110,000 European grape vines onto American rootstock and Virginia wine was born. Event organizer Scott Ballin recognized Rausse’s efforts with a 1787 map of Italy made by the King of France’s cartographer, but it’s the growing quality of Virginia wine that serves as Rausse’s greatest acknowledgement.

Three of Virginia’s four victories in the competition were with red wines. Kyle Boatright, a wine distributor for The Country Vintner and a fellow judge, was surprised by how well Virginia’s reds showed. “Going into the event, I thought it would be easy to pick out the Virginia reds and that the whites would have more of an equal footing, but I found the opposite to be the case,” he said.

Ox-Eye Vineyards’ John Kiers attributes the shift in the quality of our red wines to longer hang times and other vineyard practices, like leaf-pulling, that lead to riper fruit. Barboursville Octagon 2008 and Barren Ridge Meritage 2008 won out over a right bank Bordeaux from 2009 and a left bank Bordeaux from 2006, respectively. Perhaps most surprising was a Pinot Noir from micro-winery Ankida Ridge beating a Premier Cru Burgundy. Not only is Virginia not known for success with Pinot Noir, a notoriously fickle grape, but 2011 was a lousy vintage (and only Ankida’s second year in production).

We started by tasting the reds (a first for me in a wine competition) in front of an audience (another first, which made me especially conscious of my spitting technique), followed by a pair of sparklers and then a trio of whites. With a better mousse (see Winespeak 101), Virginia’s Thibault-Jannison Cuvée D’Etat trumped a Blanc de Blancs Champagne, and while none of the competing Virginia whites (Keswick Viognier 2011, Jefferson Vineyards Chardonnay Reserve 2010, and Pollak Pinot Gris 2011) scored higher than their French counterparts, the spreads weren’t terribly wide. The French whites possessed a more seamless integration of oak and more complex aromatics, but as judge Richard Leahy pointed out, maybe 2011 wasn’t the fairest vintage to feature.

This victory in Staunton came just a week and a half after a similar triumph at the first annual Virginia Wine Summit in Richmond. The one-day trade seminar began with a blind tasting that pitted eight Virginia wines against wines from other regions. One of the four judges was Steven Spurrier, the very man who organized the Paris competition in 1976, and after voting six to two in favor of Virginia, he said, “It seems I really liked the Virginians!”

Another judge, Dave McIntyre from the Washington Post, felt that Virginia proved to be in the same class with France, Italy, and California. “I look forward to the day when ‘Virginia Beats France in Blind Tasting!’ is no longer news or a surprise, and the idea of a ‘winner’ comes down to individual preferences of the judges rather than a judgment about relative quality between entire wine regions,” he said.

At the time of the Judgment of Paris, California had about 350 vineyards. Thirty-six years later, they have more than 3,500. I don’t suspect that the number of Virginia wineries will ever again increase tenfold, but I do predict that soon, Virginia wines will help set the benchmark, rather than just be compared to it.

WINESPEAK 101
Mousse (n.): The strength and texture of the bubbles in a sparkling wine.

You can almost feel yourself getting healthier with every bite of the dark, leafy greens that flourish come fall. Nevermind if they’re braised with ham hocks, drenched in cream, or studded with bacon. From collards to bok choy and all the shades in between, these restaurant dishes make it a downright pleasure to eat your greens. Popeye never had it so good.

The pho at Moto Pho Co. warms you from the inside out (you’re in charge of the sriracha sauce) and the chay or vegetarian pho is packed with noodles, mushrooms, tofu, and baby bok choy with plenty of bite.

Double up on health at Ginkgo, the new Sichuan restaurant on the Corner, with the fish soup with pickled mustard greens. Actually, the pickled part makes it three times as healthy (though no less delicious).

At l’etoile, raw kale stars with toasted pine nuts, dried cranberries, pecorino romano, and an emulsified champagne-lemon dressing in a scrumptious salad that hits every taste bud and presses every yummy button you have.

Ace Biscuit & Barbecue serves up some killer Southern comfort, so it’s not surprising that pitmaster Brian Ashworth has aced his collards too. Try ’em piled up next to a pulled pork sammy and some mac-n-cheese.

The beets’ greens don’t go to waste at MAS Tapas where they join green chard in the acelgas—a light sauté with sherry, garlic, and olive oil that’s finished with a sprinkle of cow’s milk Mahon.

No doubt you go to Downtown Grille for steak, potatoes, and red wine, but don’t forget the creamed spinach that’ll add some color to your meal’s otherwise brown and red palette.

Double H Farms’ thick-cut pork chop deserves a spectacular partner on the plate and at The Ivy Inn, it gets to rest on a savory skillet cake of wilted greens (mustard, tat soi, kale, spinach, and collards) and sweet potatoes that cooks on a bacon fat-slicked griddle.

How to go green
Having clean, dry greens in the fridge ready to go is the best way to ensure that you’ll eat them up. Here’s how to prep your precious greens once you’ve brought them home.
1. Wash and dry your greens (if you have a salad spinner, now’s a great time to use it).
2. Line a plastic bag or tupperware container with paper towels and gently place the greens inside.
3. Remove any excess air from the bag as you close it, or, if using tupperware, place a piece of paper towel on top, close with a lid, and store in the refrigerator for up to a week.

Juice it up
If you want to get your greens in early and then coast the rest of the day on brown food, try juicing your favorite leaves. Here’s a combo so good that you’ll chug it down and then bounce out the door with a vitamin-induced pep in your step. Just toss the ingredients in a blender until drinkable.

1 cup of greens (kale, spinach, or chard); 4 stalks of celery; 1 ½ pears, cut into large pieces; 1″ piece of ginger, peeled; Segments from half a lemon

All hail kale
At the moment, kale’s as overexposed as Kim Kardashian, but the reality starlet doesn’t hold a candle to the superstar crucifer. With more iron than beef, more calcium than milk, nearly 100 percent of our daily recommended Vitamin C intake, and two types of cancer-crushing antioxidants, kale is one badass superfood.

Nelson County’s not the only place to go for local beer. Champion Brewing Company, a nanobrewery off Avon Street, will be on Downtown Charlottesville’s map by Thanksgiving weekend, and Scottsville, our neighbor to the south, just got its own place for suds. James River Brewing Company, owned by a team of four beer-loving friends (three of whom are named Chris) opened on September 1 in a circa 1839 tobacco warehouse.

The tasting room, which seats about 28, has a window that overlooks the tank room, and was built with a green design that was a pooled effort of several local contractors and artisans. The result is part “Cheers” and part “Twin Peaks.”

The non-Chris on the team, Dustin Caster, an archaeologist-turned-brewmaster, has six beers on tap with a few barrel-held reserves that are labors of love. They even get engendered as such —a pistachio-based beer is his “Green-Eyed Lady” and a chocolate-raspberry stout, his “Kind Woman.”

No one’s likely to complain about the prices. Value was at the top of the list for the team and with no pint over $4.50 and no growler over $12, the beer’s as refreshing on the palate as it is on the wallet.

With new legislation that allows breweries to sell pints on-premise without operating a restaurant, James River Brewing has nixed its original plan to open a restaurant on the second floor and, instead, encourages guests to order from Amici’s Italian Restaurant and have their pizza or mozzarella sticks delivered to the brewery.

Monday is guest bartender night (former mayor Dave Norris was manning the taps on October 8) when $1 from every pint sold goes to charity, and Tuesday is trivia night. For now, off-premise sales will be limited to bottles and growlers sold directly from the brewery. And, just in time for the holiday season, kegs will be available through the grocery stores.

Pick a direction, pick a beer.

There’s no such word as “eww” in an omnivore’s vocabulary. While these dishes are far from the beetles and brains that TV personalities get paid to eat, they require a more adventurous palate than your typical restaurant offering. Of course, those brave enough to consume them will be most deliciously rewarded.

Nothing cures a hangover like a bowl of steaming stomach linings. The menudo at Aqui es Mexico (above) is a weekend special that’s tasty despite its main ingredient. Tripe’s texture is like calamari and the broth—spicy and complex—will get you back to fighting form in no time.

Sweetbreads, the thymus glands of a calf, couldn’t ask for more respect than they get at C&O Restaurant, where chef Dean Maupin serves them as an appetizer with sultanas and green peppercorns in a marsala cream sauce over toasted brioche.

Animal feet are delicacies in Chinese culture, so the chicken and pig feet hot pot soup at Peter Chang’s China Grill is the way to go for diners who want authentic eats.

The tacos at La Michoacana can’t be beat and the homemade corn tortillas topped with beef tongue (lengua) and served Mexican-style (just cilantro and onions with a squeeze of lime) are los mejores.

Desserts can be daring too. At l’etoile, apple cider doughnuts skip the jellied center for a filling of foie gras mousse. Served with a ginger apple snap and a hard cider gelée, they’ll still satisfy your sweet tooth.

When Groucho Marx said, “I don’t care to belong to any club that will have me as a member,” he must not have had wine in mind. The variety of wine club memberships offered by our retailers, wineries, and co-ops assumes nothing more about its members than a shared love of wine. And who doesn’t love wine?

If you are already a fan of a particular winery, or would enjoy the research (read: drinking) involved in becoming one, then consider joining the wine club of one (or several) of our state’s 200-plus vineyards. Benefits and commitments vary, but you can usually expect complimentary tastings for yourself and guests, invitations to special events, and 10 to 20 percent discounts in addition to your regular shipments or pick-ups of wine.

At Blenheim Vineyards, where winemaker Kirsty Harmon selects a trio of wines to distribute every quarter, the club’s 800-plus members can pick up at the winery and pay a flat $50 per trio, or choose delivery and pay an additional shipping and handling fee. The choice is simple when you realize that picking up is half the fun. On the first Saturday in January, April, July, and October, Blenheim hosts pick-up parties with eats and drinks. Some are cocktail parties with cheese and wine and others are brunch parties with doughnuts, croissants, country ham, coffee…and, of course, wine.

Early-adopting red wine types do well as members of Mountfair Vineyards’ wine club. The boutique winery, which produces Bordeaux-style reds in very small batches, does not produce enough of every wine for general purchase. Mountfair’s wine club members receive automatic quarterly shipments (six wines for $144 or 12 wines for $288) as soon as the wines are released (and before anyone else can get their paws on them).

In Front Royal, the purchase of a 12-bottle case each year grants you weekend access to Linden Vineyard’s peaceful climate-controlled deck and grounds. Owner/winemaker Jim Law made the decision four years ago to limit leisure use of the winery on Saturdays and Sundays to customers who spend between $216 and $432 (the range of a case price) in order to maintain the space’s contemplative, zen-like atmosphere.

If variety’s the spice of your wine cellar, check out The Wine Guild of Charlottesville at 209 Second St., next to Bang!, where the goal is to get “more people drinking better wine more often.” Founded five years ago by a small group of individuals that includes Will Richey, this buying club for wine drinkers offers its 100 dues-paying members access to 36,000 wines at prices just 15 percent above wholesale costs. For $200 a year, members pay 23 percent below retail, and for $400, 27 percent below retail. While the Guild stocks a modest supply of wine (and some gourmet foods) and holds office hours Wednesday through Saturday, it’s the popular 5:30-7:30pm tastings held on the first and third Wednesday of every month that give members ample opportunity to try before they buy.

For oenophiles who want dinner, an education, and social interaction along with their wine savings, you can’t beat the Wine Club of Charlottesville. Bill Curtis, owner of Court Square Tavern and Tastings, started the club in 1981 and it’s 60 members strong today. The educational events are held in the dining room at Tastings one to three times a month, and are as much about food as they are about wine. On a Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday evening, two to three flights of wine presented by winemakers, vineyard owners, or importers (representing regions all across the wine-producing map) complement several small plates of Curtis’ European-influenced, locally sourced fare (see All You Can Eat, page 56). For $50 a year for a couple or $30 a year for a single, members pay $10 less for any of the wine club events they care to attend (prices run between $40 and $50) and receive 10 percent off bottles, and 15 percent off cases. Curtis says that for big wine buyers, the discount alone makes the membership worthwhile, saving them an estimated $150-200 a year.

If having a different white and a different red appear on your doorstep every month is more your style, The Wine Warehouse Wine of the Month Club makes that happen for $34.99 a month with free shipping within Virginia. Join a cheese club too and really savor your sense of belonging.

SIX WAYS TO JOIN THE CLUB
Blenheim Vineyards
store.nexternal.com/blenheim/wine-club-sign-up-p15.aspx
Mountfair Vineyards
mountfair.com/wineclub.php
Linden Vineyards
lindenvineyards.com/visit/case-club/
The Wine Guild of Charlottesville
wineguildcville.com/membership-2/join-the-guild-today/
Wine Club of Charlottesville
http://www.wineclubofcharlottesville.org/Join.php
Wine Warehouse Wine of the Month Club
winewarehouseinc.com/wineclub.html

With new restaurants in the spotlight, it’s easy to forget about our culinary forerunners. And nothing about Tastings of Charlottesville, the space under the Market Street parking garage, lets on to the gem that lies within. After 22 years, it’s still, as owner Bill Curtis calls it, “Charlottesville’s best-kept secret,” and though it’s tempting to keep Tastings’ well-executed food, top-notch service, and peerless collection of wine undisclosed, that would no doubt send me to a wine-free afterlife.

Curtis, 66, came to Charlottesville from upstate New York in 1968 to attend graduate school for history, but first he needed a job. He worked at The Hunt Room at 500 Court Square (a hotel from 1926 to 1974), the casual outpost below the more formal Monticello Room. The Mall was not yet pedestrian and there were only four other places to eat Downtown.

In 1976, Curtis took over both restaurants, turning the downstairs into Court Square Tavern, a pub which still serves 140-plus beers alongside homemade, cozy classics like shepherd’s pie and roast beef chili. He continued to operate the Monticello Room, where his Wine Club of Charlottesville began in 1981, until he sold it to a law firm in 1988 and then bought Bixby’s sandwich shop on Market Street, reopening it as Tastings in 1990. Debbie Weisser was among his first employees, and she’s still there today.

To say that Curtis was ahead of his time would be an understatement. His cooking style is rooted in tradition (he’s still using some of his “Ma’s” recipes and, with the help of his sous chef Mike Berry, makes everything from scratch, down to the demi-glace), but he has a modern sensibility, going local as often as he can. The night we dined, Curtis had some Mangalitsa pork from Best Of What’s Around, and the historian-turned-chef was just as excited to share the wooly pigs’ origins as fare for Austrian Emperors as he was its sweet, succulent fat. When he begins retrieving facts from his categorical memory of 1,500 bottles of wine (all of which he tries before he buys), you realize that his knowledge is as much a well-kept secret as his crabmeat casserole.

A wine lover’s nirvana, Tastings offers 120 wines by half glass, glass, or flight (which Curtis announces each week through a newsletter that’s as entertaining as it is informative). You can taste all night, taking recommendations from Curtis or his right-hand man, Louie Cornay, or buy a bottle and pay just $7 above retail.

Dining with two other oenophiles meant geeking out over the dozen tastes Cornay brought us, several of which we tried blind. We sniffed, swirled, and sipped using abstruse descriptors to which we’d never subject a neophyte.

Not to say that novices wouldn’t be comfortable at Tastings. In fact, it’s probably the best place to go when you don’t know a whole lot. “We have no wine list,” said Curtis, who matches wines with patrons by asking 1) what they like, 2) what they’re looking to spend, and 3) what they’re having for dinner. One regular who’s been coming since 1992 for lobster bisque, steak, and salad told Curtis early on that he likes wine that tastes like stale Cherry Coke. “We know our folks’ foibles and we cater to them,” said Curtis.

After classic appetizers like chicken liver pâté with cornichon relish and a salad of golden beets, lettuce, dried fig chèvre, and balsamic cippolini, it was time for the main event—that pig fit for an emperor. Curtis served medallions over a brunoise of carrots, celery root, parsnips, rutabagas, and turnips, which he calls his “root of all vegetables.” His Hungarian-style pork stew with sweet onions and smoky paprika joined spaetzle, peas, and chanterelles. There was more: a crock of cassoulet, duck with red currants, wood-grilled beef tenderloin with Ma’s potato gratin, warm apple strudel with a scoop of butter brickle, and a heavenly selection of cheeses. It was a feast, to be sure, but it’s just how Curtis, a genial and generous man despite his gruff exterior, does it.

With two restaurants open for lunch and dinner and only one day off (if you don’t count all his Sunday catering jobs), Curtis may be one of the hardest working people in town. His stamina comes from a cross of Ma’s stubbornness and a love for what he does: “You’ve got to want to gather something akin to a family around—a nexus of positive energy, of people who like your food and inspire you to do things better and better.”

For the food-obsessed, the traditional restaurant experience can sometimes be a snooze. If it’s not a here today, gone tomorrow pop-up, a dinner cooked by a guest chef flown in from Copenhagen, or a meal centered around an especially fatty type of swine, they’d rather stay home and cook the next recipe in their sauce-splattered El Bulli cookbook. So when I found out that there’s a supper club hosted and attended by these kinds of people, I knew I had to attend.

The passion project of Megan Kiernan (Feast! café’s manager) and Justin Stone (an area bon vivant who’s worked on various sides of the wine industry), Forage is a series of dinner parties, occurring on two to three consecutive Sundays, that the duo describe as “holistic occasions meant to be enjoyed by all the senses.” The pair takes inspiration from any theme that strikes their fancy and then uses the 45- to 60-day interim between series to plan and test the locally sourced menu, and to borrow, thrift, and forage for objets d’art to create a dining area for 20 guests.

The $35 a head, BYO dinners are promoted through Facebook and an e-mail list. Those interested are invited to e-mail forage.charlottesville@gmail.com with date preferences. A week before the dinner, confirmed guests are sent the theme (which should be interpreted when dressing for the evening) and the menu (with suggested wine and beer pairings).

I attended Whimsical Picnic & Preserve Dinner the day after the fall equinox (the second dinner of the series fell on the day of the harvest moon). Always more interested in wine than fashion, I spent so much time deciding which wine to bring (Chenin Blanc) that I forgot to dress with whimsy. Nevermind. When I arrived at Kiernan’s timber frame house tucked into the woods off Blenheim Road, there was so much to take in that it didn’t matter what we were wearing.

Mason jar lanterns, mirrors, and window panes hung from branches; an outdoor living room vignette served as a spot to enjoy hors d’oeuvres and an apéritif of brandied cherries, orange liqueur, and Potter’s Craft Cider; a table topped with a lichen- and moss-covered plank balancing persimmons under domed-glass cake toppers was set amidst the trees. The scene was one part Secret Garden and one part Mad Hatter’s Tea Party.

Kiernan spent most of the time in the kitchen (with Stone flitting between roles as consummate host and sous chef), but when she did come out, it was bearing one of five glorious courses (all of which included a preserved element to go with the theme). Bacon and pickled red onions graced fluffy gougères; a piece of pickled okra in a vintage teacup got a warm bath of pappa al pomodoro; Rag Mountain trout cured with lemon and foraged sorrel provided a silky foil to potatoes dressed with tangy crème fraîche; Free Union Grass Farm duck came roasted with plum sauce in one preparation and confited in a salad of arugula, butternut squash, and dried cherries in another; and dessert was a tantalizing trio of lemon curd cake with blackberry preserves, strawberry jam-filled brioche doughnuts, and glossy chocolate cookies. French press pots of coffee made the rounds.

Guests were a talented and motley crew of farmers, cidermakers, woodworkers, food bloggers, photographers, and actors and I overheard discussions about everything from Portland’s art scene to what type of nuts and seeds make the best butters.

Over the five hours that we mingled and dined, the night grew dark and chilly, the insects’ early autumn chorus provided the evening’s soundtrack, and the dogs that had been chasing one another around were asleep on our laps and feet.

Making friends (and memories) over delicious food and your favorite wine in an enchanting setting? Perhaps the best $35 a jaded foodie will ever spend.

It’s never too soon to learn the value of a buck, especially if we want our kids to take care of us one day.

Fellini’s #9 turns the tables by putting our kids to work while we sit back and relax. At the Fellini’s 9 and Under monthly luncheon (the next one is Saturday, October 20), kids aged 4 to 10 play server to their parents—and there’s even a half hour of babysitting built in.

They report for their shift at 10:30am and get a debriefing, along with an apron, spiral notepad, and pen, and then set to work rolling silverware. Parents return at 11am, are seated by their kids, and then waited on with silver spoon service that may include your server eating a piece of focaccia from your plate before setting it down, taking the first slurp from your soda, or rolling a meatball onto your lap.

It’s all part of the charm, though, and it’s ridiculously cute seeing kids take a job seriously. At the restaurant’s August event, my server took a break for a hug and a sip of lemonade, wiped her hands on her apron, and said, “I need to get back to work!”

Each adult pays $20 (plus tax) for a three-course lunch and each child walks away with a full belly (they get lunch as part of the deal), a $2 tip (which, for my server, turned into a purchase from the small toys bin at Alakazam), and all their gear so that they can continue playing restaurant at home. It’s all part of the master plan.