Might I be one of the special breed of people who have been to the Black Dog restaurant? Long (incorrectly?) perceived as a status symbol akin to driving a sports car, the ubiquitous Black Dog shirts that my friends at school wore spoke to me of the far off land of Martha's Vineyard, a summer place where only the richest of us could go. And, finally, this hoi polloi received the golden ticket and was able to dine at the mythical establishment. Following our trip, my kids both have Black Dog shirts meaning that, someday, my family will be mistaken for wealthy people and spit upon by the unwashed masses. Go ahead, 99%; I savor every bit of your misdirected hatred!
I started the meal with a bang, ordering the Black Dog sangria followed by the Hungarian mushroom soup and the lobster roll. Lobster may not be my favorite, but I wanted to look both classy and have fries.
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| Ignore the vomit-look. |
The Hungarian mushroom soup (named after the source of the paprika used in it) was a solid, creamy concoction with some nice big chunks of mushrooms. I didn't taste the paprika so perhaps this soup only exists as a normal ol' mushroom soup. But I'm a sucker for a fungi-related soup so I enjoyed it a lot.
Normally when I order something at a well-known restaurant, I expect to pay premium prices, assuming that the big bucks pay more for the name than the quality of the food. But when I pay 25 bucks for a lobster roll that is hefted upon the table and has, literally, exploded the bun on which it sits, that's a freakin' value! I'm no seafood expert so I will intelligently refer to it as "lobstery" and "not too mayonaissey". And it came with big honkin' fries and slaw! Combined together, my Black Dog experience rates a Really Good.
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| Happy Birthday, Lola! |
Becoming a new tradition, our trip to Martha's Vineyard also commemorates when we remember my son's teddy bear, Lola's, birthday. Not her actual birthday which I believe is in July but when we always remember that it has happened and should probably be celebrated. Unlike last year we weren't able to fake out the waitress into believing that one of the paying customers had a birthday so we had to settle for special desserts instead. My son wanted to eat chocolate cake but kindly asked for apple crisp since that's what Lola would want. We reminded him she would want him to eat what he wanted and should have the cake; he took little convincing.
Happy birthday, Lola! You may be worn for an eight-year-old teddy bear but you are very loved.
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