Best. Birthday. Ever. Continued.

As I suspected she might, Susie took me to Jardiniere last night for my birthday dinner. I've been dropping hints about wanting to go there for a while, and the restaurant has been somewhat more high-profile lately, what with Traci Des Jardins beating down that phony Mario Batali on Iron Chef (side note: don't say "what with" around Susie). But when she told me that we were actually going there, I was pretty stoked.

I was not disappointed. As Sherwin would say, "It pwned me." Actually, he would say, "P-owned," because we all know that 1337-speak does not work verbally.

The service was gracious and timely. The setting elegant yet relaxed. A jazz piano and bass added luxurious ambiance. But of course the food was the star here. The menu offered a variety of options, but for me, there really was no choice. I had to go with the 6-course tasting menu: a tuna tombo salad with the most delicious beans ever, halibut with chanterelles, incredible duck breast (with fig I didn't hate!), beef shortrib, cheese course, and a chocolate caramel tart. That's just how I roll. Everything was fabulous with the exception of the tart (which was only very good), although "Happy Birthday" was spelled out in fancy chocolate script on the side of plate. Fortunately I was able to supplement with the incredible dish that Susie ordered: gooey dark chocolate cake with candied cocoa nibs and raspberry swirl ice cream. I can't recall a better dessert.

I was having a bit of trouble choosing a wine from their diverse yet approachable list. So I chose them all; I had the sommelier's suggested wine pairings: a different glass for each course of the tasting menu. The choices were indeed excellent and complemented the dishes nicely: two whites for the fish courses, two reds for the meats (a Burgundy and a California Zinfandel), vin santo for the cheese, and a late-harvest red for the tart.

At one point I paused from my consumption to contemplate the tune being played by the jazz duo. It seemed yet familiar, yet surely it was a jazz standard. And, as I have a somewhat skewed musical education, I know no jazz standards. Finally the repetitive, rhythmic chord changes and a little melodic hook jolted my memory. "Ah yes," I sighed as I leaned back and tilted my wineglass. "Hey Ya, by OutKast." What could be more fitting?

If you haven't been to Jardiniere, I suggest you find an occasion to do so. Especially if you can find someone else to pay.

Thanks, Susie! You're the best!