07.21.04 - 9:52 p.m.

You know you've got a good one when he puts Stevie Wonder's "I Believe" on the cheesy anniversary mix, and you just know it's because of the end of High Fidelity. And when he consents to trying a sip of your scotch at the end of an otherwise fabulous meal (even for him), even though he knows he's going to hate it. Thank you, sweetie.

And that means more scotch for me anyway.

So. Babbo. Was damn fine, if I must put a descriptive term to it. It wasn't the meal to end all meals -- and to be honest, I'm still trying to figure out where and when I ate The Best Meal of My Life, but then, maybe it hasn't happened yet. Still, it was heartily tasty, pleasing and not snobby. And now I can finally say I've been. I wanted to be more adventurous, but knowing that yes, I can return if I want, allowed me to choose what at any "normal" restaurant would be no-brainers, favorite dishes like goat cheese truffles (big balls o' cheese) and linguini with clams. Of course, these were silkier, more flavorful dishes than I've had or could make for myself (without the Babbo cookbook), but good old favorites nonetheless. Next time, I think I go for the duck and the proscuitto. Because I really shouldn't be afraid of certain meats when I'm at Babbo.