Is That Mustard?
We spent last Sunday in Brooklyn with some of our favorite people, family that we dearly love. We wandered through DUMBO and took in beautiful views of the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan from the other side. Rain was in the forecast, but it didn’t happen. Instead there was a summer breeze off the East River as we meandered with ease, enjoying new sites and good company.
It was one of those special kind of days. You know the kind, right? Everyone is happy to be where they are and to be together, unattached to any agenda, merely open and contented. Sometimes everything just lines up right.
We capped the day with a meal in Park Slope that was truly exquisite. Allowing ourselves to be led by our waiter, amazing food kept coming out, family style, so that we could all share in the experience. It wasn’t just good, it was soooo good. We discussed every bite in reverie.
One dish was so extraordinary that I insisted our waiter stand there and hear me out as I gushed about how much I adored it. It was imperative that he understand that it was the best whole fish I had ever eaten. By far. He indulged my rant and even added some of his own input about the unique preparation, and why he loves it too. Our waiter was awesome. It was a stellar dining experience.
They brought us dessert at the end of the night. We mixed it up as instructed and noticed some unusual ingredients. Is that captain crunch? Yes. So interesting. And little gummy thingies? Wow. We tasted it. Is that… is that mustard I am tasting? Yes, most distinctly mustard. It was the oddest dessert any of us had ever eaten. Mustard in dessert? We kept eating. I would not say we were enjoying it exactly, but we were absolutely intrigued. Then they brought us a chocolate custard that was like the best chocolate pudding ever. Not unique, but decidedly YUMMY.
I excused myself for the ladies room. When I returned I learned that the restaurant manager had stopped by our table quite apologetic and embarrassed. It seems there was a mix-up in the kitchen. Unfortunately, mustard was used instead of mango sauce in our dessert.
Mango! Yes, that would make more sense. Oh, how we laughed, amused at our willingness to accept the mustard. Feeling a tad ridiculous, but also pleased with our sense of adventure. We were utterly tickled.
I hope that whoever made that error hasn’t lost an ounce of sleep over it. Because while I am certain it would’ve tasted better with the mango sauce, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. The mustard makes the memory. It was a perfect day.