Bacchanalia, big sister of Floataway Cafe, is widely acknowledged to be the best restaurant in Atlanta. We've never been. Why are we going tonight?
* We want to.
* As a reward for soldiering on with the job search.
* This one is me being silly... we've been saying for years that the one thing we must do before leaving Atlanta is dinner at Bacchanalia. Maybe Adam doesn't have a job in Boston yet because we haven't gone! So I say to the universe, here is closure; we are done with this place. Move us along.
And even if that last one is preposterous, we still get good food. So.
I am wearing the dress volta bought me two birthdays ago - this is the one I wore to the Sin City premiere, for those who saw me there. Slinky - or it's supposed to be, and will be if I keep re-gaining weight. Right now, it is slightly too big. Hangs wrong on my nearly-exposed bones. But I do not have a dress that would currently fit me properly. So. I soldier on. This dress, retro-forties small scattered polka-dots. Strappy black... heels. Yes, I own them. I just only wear them once a year or so. Lips a matte true-red. Hair in "long, looping ringlets", as Spooky describes it.
The fragrance of the evening would be Miskatonic University, if I had it; Adam loves Lovecraft. In the absence of Misk U, I will wear Montresor. Because Adam likes crying out "For the love of God, Montresor!"
Lab description: The black fruit and vanilla oaken notes of fine Medoc and De Grâve, but not a hint of the elusive Amontillado.
In the bottle: Sweet, with only a slight hint of the wine.
On me: Still sweet; now oaky and fruity. Deep, dark fruit. Only a hint of the vanilla. Mmmm. This is like very nice red wine. Not boozey at all.