restaurant : topo topo toronto

December 2. Restaurant moment. Share the best restaurant experience you had this year. Who was there? What made it amazing? What taste stands out in your mind?

Two restaurant moments for 2009: Chicago and Toronto.

Chicago: The moment any client asks me to come to Chicago, I put them on hold, call the restaurant Topolobampo on another line to see if they have reservations, and then confirm. This has happened for several years. So far, knock on wood, client requests and open tables have coincided quite nicely. When they don't match up, I think you and I both know that Topolobampo rules.

My last trip there was in October; my next is already booked for January 20th. In October, I booked a table for five, though I was traveling alone. I felt sure others would come, and they did. Two 37days readers I had never met and a couple with whom I had shared the sheer ecstasy of Topolobampo before. 

Tasting menus. Margaritas to make you weep. Wine pairings.

But sometimes you never know how a dinner with strangers will work, do you? Sometimes conversation lags, small fits and starts, comparing numbers of twitter followers and S.A.T. scores and all. Sometimes it works out just like that time in college when you went to dinner with a man your friend Howard warned you about and you spent the whole evening wanting to poke your eyes out with your own fork. Sometimes you pass secret messages to the wait staff to hurry things along before you have to start screaming lines from some indie art film and scare the other diners. Sometimes it just sucks. Great amazing fantastic food and the rest sucks. I hate when that happens. Like if I were tipping my tablemates and me–us as a unit, I'd give us a penny for not trying hard enough–or for trying too hard.

But not this night. This one stands out for its perfection. I walked in preoccupied by some medical tests the day before, not sure I could do it, thinking–in fact–that I should cancel, feeling I couldn't fully participate. I left full, sated, happy, enlightened, entertained, challenged. Not only of the service (IMPECCABLE) or the food–each dish met with gasps–but the conversation, the hours and hours of laughter. It just worked, this unknown conglomeration of humans around a circular table in one of the best restaurants I know. It just worked. It worked.

We walked out into a light rain and went our separate ways.

Toronto a month later: An evening alone in a city I don't know. At midnight when I arrived, of course I spent valuable sleeping time perusing Where Toronto. Dining, Accommodations, Concerts.

I moved my finger down the page. November 13th, it read. What is the date, I thought to myself. I think it's the 13th today. November 13th. "Lyle Lovett" it said.

Lyle Lovett.

I love Lyle Lovett.

I've never seen Lyle Lovett in concert.

I called the front desk. It's now 12:13 a.m.

"WHAT IS THE DATE TODAY?" I shout into the receiver.

"At your service, Ms Dig," the voice answers. "How may I help you?"

Why correct the pronunciation?

"WHAT IS THE DATE TODAY?"

"You mean the upcoming day? Or the day we just ended?"

"THIS DAY! THIS DAY!"

"Hold on, m'am…. okay, it's November 13th."

"NOVEMBER 13th! OH MY GOD! Do you realize that Lyle Lovett is playing a concert here tonight?"

"At your service, Ms Dig," she answered again. "How may I help you?"

I wonder for a moment if I've reached a recording.

"CAN YOU GET ME A TICKET TO THAT CONCERT?"

"The concierge can help you, Ms Dig. She will be in at 8:00am."

"But I'll be giving a speech at 8:00am. Can't you help me? Or can't you leave a message for her?"

"No, m'am, I'm sorry. You'll have to contact the concierge tomorrow."

I hang up, dejected, but not defeated. I write what I can now concede was a half-crazed note to the concierge, put it in a hotel envelope, and march downstairs to the deserted concierge desk where I tape it to their computer screen. 

The moment I finished my speech, I went back to the now-busy concierge desk and waited my turn.

"Hi," I started when the concierge smiled my way. "I am interested in getting a ticket to the Lyle Lovett concert tonight, and wondered if you can help me. I left a note for you this morning."

"Ohhhhhh," she answered, looking at her colleague. "Yes, we got your note. Let me make a call and see what we can do." I walked away a few minutes later with a ticket being held for me at the concert hall.

Someone on Twitter had said, "You have to eat at Fressen!" and so, hours before the concert was to begin, I bundled up and started walking. First, I walked a few miles to the concert hall so I would know where it was. And then I started a long walk down Queen Street to find Fressen, a vegan restaurant. I walked and walked some more. The sun went down. It gets cold in Toronto in November when the sun goes down. I walked past a Fluevog shoe store. Well, not exactly past it. I walked in it, hoping the clerks wouldn't judge me by my practical slightly club shaped walking shoes.

I walked by a huge crowd–HUGE! and LOUD! "What's up?" I asked a young woman on the corner as the hoards shrieked a shriek such as I had never heard. She mouthed an answer, but I couldn't hear in the din. "WHAT?" "THE ACTORS FROM TWILIGHT ARE IN THERE!" she yelled. "OH, WOW!" I said back. As I turned, I realized I had no earthly idea what she was talking about.

I walked some more. Perhaps I should turn back. It's too far. How can it be this far? I won't get back in time for the concert. But on I went.

And then there it was, a small storefront, a dimly lit interior. "Reservations?" the woman asked as I entered. My heart sank. "No," I said, "but I just walked fifty miles, give or take a mile, to get here."

She seated me. I faced out, watching the sky go black and the lights go on.

It is a rare thing to read a menu and know that you can order absolutely anything on it. ANYTHING. Everything was vegan. IT WAS PARALYZING. I sat and read it for a long while. Finally I opted for soup and a few appetizers so I could experience more tastes.

As I sat in the dim light, I realized how rarely I walk a city and treat myself to a concert. I felt fully happy at that moment. I knew in that moment the beautiful difference between loneliness and solitude.

And then my soup arrived in an asymmetical bowl that reminded me of the Sydney Opera House.

It was so beautiful I drew it. (And when I find that drawing, I'll include it here).

The first spoonful? It was an aria to beautiful solitude.

#Best09