Thursday 24 May 2007

The Bore and The Trout

A friend was telling me today how she was going to meet her husband for lunch at a very nice restaurant. Apparently they do this every couple of months - which I think is rather romantic. I would imagine that it feels like a secret tryst, or having an affair. I suppose the drawback is that you can’t have much to drink at lunchtime, so there wouldn’t be much point in eating either.

I can just about remember the last time H and I met up for lunch. It was definitely in the years BC (before children) and I think it may have been when we had just got married. We were at this wonderful foodie pub, where children are either not allowed, or are sensibly chained to the car park railings. The sophisticated menu was chalked up on blackboards, rather than printed on wipe-clean laminated cards, and there wasn’t a nugget in sight. At least ten wines were offered ‘by the glass’ so it seemed churlish not to sample them all. We ordered our food, then gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes and talked about films, music and books. These were the sort of topics that filled our lives in those days. The conversation flowed effortlessly, due to the total lack of mid-sentence interruptions, assisted visits to the loo, or the need to apologise every five minutes to nearby diners. I didn’t bang my head on the table once, as there were no crayons to retrieve from under it. (I did bang my forehead on the mirror in the Ladies, though – trying to apply lipstick with one eye shut to help me focus).

After half an hour, the rather stressed waiter/manager came up to H and delivered the immortal line:

‘Are you the bore and the trout?’

We weren’t quite sure how to respond to this, until we realised that he was talking about the wild boar and fish that we had ordered. Apparently there was a problem in the kitchen, and the food was going to take a bit longer to prepare. This actually wasn’t a problem as far as we were concerned. It was just an opportunity to continue the world tour we were taking across the wine list.

I didn’t even have to confiscate all the knives from the table while we were waiting.

I have retrieved a bottle of Villa Maria Private Bin Gewürztraminer (£8.49 Ocado, Sainsbury) from my fridge. It has been driving me mad, because I can’t for the life of me remember which blogger recommended it, and I do like to link the blog to the post. Not only does this omission indicate how rude I am (I didn’t make a note of the name, only the wine), but it also shows up rather glaringly where my priorities lie. I have sifted through all my post comments, but it’s not there. If you recognise that you recommended this wine, please let me know, so I can thank you. It is very exotic, and tastes of lychees and, strangely enough, ginger. My knife is poised to perforate the plastic on the Thai curry, and I think this wine will go with it perfectly.

I have been thinking that maybe H and I should try and give this lunch time dining without kids another go. I long for those lazy, languid lunches of old, but I don’t suppose it will ever be the same again. Would the conversation be about cutting edge recreational events, or exotic travel? Or would we just sit there and talk about the next visit to the grandparents, whether its my turn for a lie-in at the weekend, or some nasty rash that has appeared on one of the kids?

13 comments:

debio said...

OMG, drunk mummy, this blog nearly made me confess all - but I'm not that drunk even though it's almost midnight here.
Will save it for a future blog....
Great musings.

Omega Mum said...

Make sure you don't have row, though, or the waiter will come up and ask if you're the beef and the wine.......

The Secretary said...

Ah my husband takes me out for lunch all the time - ok it may be MacDonalds ot the burger van parked outdie B&Q, but hell I'll take anything I can get!

Stay at home dad said...

Nowadays you would both be boars ...

Surely the point of lunch is the drink though.

Pig in the Kitchen said...

Pig sighs as she remembers squinting into mirrors, not to apply lipstick, but to check it was in fact herself staring back.

I do miss boozy lunches and pointless conversations with husband. we went away to a hotel last friday, just me and him, 'twas fab. think you should forget lunch, master the dirty night away instead.
Pigx

Akelamalu said...

Oh long boozy lunches are back now MWM has retired and I'm on the sick (the kids have been gone a while).

Thanks for stopping by my place. :)

rilly super said...

once my husband and I went away for a weekend in the country but both finishing up work on friday night about two hundred miles apart drove seperately to the hotel. This was noticed by another guest who grinned from ear to ear at hearing our(honest)explanation. A little bit of a tryst does you good.

beta mum said...

I think I've forgotten what we used to talk about BC.
What will happen when they grow up and leave? Will we sit in silence for the rest of our lives?

Drunk Mummy said...

debio - I am fascinated! Look forward to reading all about your confession on your blog!

omega mum - or the 'miserable burger'

secretary - when he takes you out to dinner, do you go for a kebab?

SAHD - too true, and nothing remotely 'wild' about us either.

Pig - like the sound of your dirty weekend (or night).
I blame the lighting in the Ladies' loos for making me look like Morticia - hence the need for lipstick.

akelamalu - sounds like there is a light at the end of the tunnel then. Its just that it seems a very long tunnel sometimes.

Rilly - I daresay that signing the register as Mr and Mrs Super would have got tongues wagging too.

beta mum - I am hoping to go back to talking about films, music and books!

lady macleod said...

Oh lovely story. *sniff* Yes, you should do it again. Do it this week. Perhaps you both should arrive under an assumed name - people who have no worries just lust.

Anonymous said...

OMG I USED TO BE THE NIT DRUNK MUMMY SO BAD BUT HAD TO STOP WHY MAY YOU ASK "NIGHT WALKERS I GOT NIGHT WALKERS" THEY ARE DREADED CREATURES. THEY ARE QUIET THEY NEVR MAKE A PEEP THEN WHEN YOU OPEN YOUR EYES TO THE BRIGHT SUNSHINE YOU FIND THEM PASSED OUT ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR WITH FLOUR EGGS PEANUT BUTTER COKIES SUGER STUCKTO FACES HAIR CARPET OMG CALL 911 I AM GOING TO KILL SOMEONE!!!!

Anonymous said...

MY KIDS WILL NOW AND FOREVER KNOW WHEN I HAVE A GLASS OF WINE I DONT KNOW HOW BUT AS SOON AS IM HAVING THE GLORIOUS WINE SLEEP THEY GET UP AND ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE!!!

Drunk Mummy said...

lady macleod - we will certainly lack opportunities this week, due to the camping. That also means we will be beset by worries and extremely short on lust.

ltlmomma - wow! I think you have definitely got problems there - night walkers are no fun! The only thing keeping me sane is the knowledge that when mine have gone to bed, I can crack open a bottle of 'mummy's little helper.'
You have my deepest sympathy - I hope they grow out of it!