My husband and I come from a long line of practical, frugal people.  With that background, when we eat out, it’s usually at someplace pretty low-key.  With four kids, a restaurant for our family needs kid menus, booster seats, and prompt service.  There’s just not a lot of time or money available for a beautiful dining experience.

Once, however, in a faraway time and place, we had a very special meal.  We were young, we were in love, we were on our honeymoon, and we had reservations at a very nice restaurant that we wouldn’t have dared spend the money on if it hadn’t been part of our four-diamond hotel’s honeymoon package.

We dressed up and enjoyed the walk to the restaurant.  I still can picture the beautiful dining room, the flowers on the table, the host helping me with my chair.  I remember ordering, course by course, and being asked, “Have you finished enjoying your soup?”  (That question seemed so strangely worded, as there are a number of ways any answer could be construed.)

What I do not remember is what either of us ordered for the main course.  I suspect that I had some kind of steak, and I know for a fact I was looking forward to dessert.

It was not meant to be, however.  As soon as our entrees arrived, my husband began feeling ill and quickly excused himself to our room.  I was a bride of six days and suddenly left in a very awkward position.  Do I stay and enjoy the delicious meal that had just been set before me, or run after my husband to check on him?  I remained at the restaurant long enough to sign for the bill, and they graciously offered to deliver my meal to our room.

Somehow, even though it was brought on china and presented as nicely as a rush-takeout order can be, it wasn’t the same eating in a hotel room with a sick husband as it had been a few minutes earlier, surrounded by other diners in a lovely restaurant.

And I never did get my dessert.

It’s funny how the most memorable experiences are not always the best ones.  I suppose I need to head over to the Uptake Restaurants page and plan a do-over of that beautiful romantic meal.  In about 15 years when the kids are all grown, that is.

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