I went to Good Luck restaurant last night with the girls to celebrate Christine's birthday. One word: must go! Oh, did I say one word? I meant two. It's a large, open, industrial space in the old Fabrics and Findings warehouse at the Village Gate with a bit of a French country community ambiance thrown in.
Their tapas-like menu boasts "food to share" which makes the whole dining experience interactive and fun. The food was fresh, flavorful and light -- and it just kept coming. We shared two bottles of wine; the charcuterie plate; leeks with lump crab; shrimp, bean and goat cheese crostini; warm arugula with bleu cheese and roasted figs; and heaps of funny and/or tear-filled stories about our kids, jobs, lives, sex, faith, parents in nursing homes, etc.
But one of the best parts of our evening was our waiter: Storm. He was the most articulate and knowledgeable waiter I have ever had the pleasure of meeting not to mention likeable and funny. He had no fear of making solid recommendations and sharing with us what foods were locally sourced, how they are prepared and plated, what spices are used, and so on. (As a contrast, I often hear the "I don't know, I've never tried that" response to my inquiry which makes me cringe. Really? Because isn't knowing about the food your job?) I really hope he's compensated well because he's worth his weight in gold.
One more thing. Unlike Label 7 (a.k.a. Mustards) our local tapas-style eatery in the village, which has to-die-for rich, creamy, yummy foods and attractive space, this place was also packed to the gills but otherwise noiseless. At Label 7, you cannot hear your friends seated at your same table; at Good Luck, you cannot hear others at the table next to you. Although, last night, that would have come in handy as the man next to us unwrapped a dress for his birthday gift. Uh, what's with the frock mister?
Next time, I'm ordering one of their original cocktails. For the girl who never knows what drink to order and continually pesters bar staff to create something original, I cannot believe I didn't try the Johnny Walker black cat tea or the Knock on Wood (Appleton Estate Rhum, apricot brandy, lime and brown sugar). As Clarissa sang to Rudolph, "there's always tomorrow."
2 comments:
Any guy that can come up with a name like "Storm" for himself is clearly an accomplished liar, hence could easily fool you about the sourcing of the food, its freshness, its meticulous preparation, etc. Next time, you'll have to wander into the kitchen to discover for yourself the bank of microwaves they've got. And, let them know that their website takes forever to load, immensely annoying potential patrons.
It's his real name! He said he used to call himself Steve when he was younger. I was with Misty (among others) so that led to some interesting banter between them!
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