Harry Shearer was in town yesterday, a pit stop on his way to Winchester, Va., where this evening he'll screen his great documentary, "The Big Uneasy." We met for dinner--Harry, my son, me--at Marcel's and had a very good dinner, indeed. I'd not been to Marcel's in a while and now I can't wait to get back. Oh, my. The gratin of shellfish was memorable, followed by duck and a cheese course. There was a stunning shrimp dish, too. Harry had rabbit and Spencer had so many courses I can't recall what any of them were.
As we were leaving our hide-away table (literally, it was behind a curtain), I spied one of my badass heroes, Spike Mendolsohn, and--bold due to fine pinot noir--broke my rule about not hitting on badasses in restaurants. I mean, he was right there in front of me. How could I resist? I introduced myself, my son and Harry. Spike was gracious. He was with a lovely young woman who wore an outfit more worthy of Paris than Washington, and wearing it well. Suffice it to say a bra with 'tude.
Briefly I heaped some praise on the handsome and talented young chef. I attempted limited restrained gushing, but if he only knew how deeply I rely on his Toasted Marshmallow Milk Shake as my ultimate pick-me-up, and on special occasions I add the Shroom Burger. Simply the best. A lot of mother-son bonding goes on there, too. (I could have used a TMMS today after getting tatted up for radiation. Oy!)
Spike doesn't need to win Top Chef because he's got the juice, and it's badass juice, and I like that.
If you're in Winchester tonight, find Harry's screening and GO. The details are here.