48 Hours of Food (& Drink)Rebecca Woolf
I had to wait until after lunch to write this post because I don’t know how to stare at this kind of food without wanting to jump back on a plane and fly to where it comes from.
It was that good.
Let me preface by saying I (used to/typically) stay away from all things with faces. And then I got pregnant and lived on turkey sandwiches. And then I gave birth and binged on sushi-takeout. (I stopped eating turkey, when the girls were born but have been giving in to fish cravings every month of so. Pescatarianism?) But the last time I ate this much fish? Never.
But. As was the theme of this trip: LIVE IT UP FOR 48 HOURS OR DIE!. So? I ate like a medieval king who is also a merman. I ate like a medieval King Triton.
When we checked into our room we were greeted by champagne and chocolate covered strawberries.
Not only were they wearing tuxedos, there were SIX of them! Complete with mommy & daddy strawberries which, aw. Or at least, it was “aw” until I was reminded via Instragram that last time we had a romantic night (with six chocolate covered strawberries! sans tuxedo) I got pregnant with twins. NOT THIS TIME, FRIENDS! Not this time.
Fast forward a few hours later when we found ourselves @ Rivals Waterfront Sports Grille for dinner where we watched the Heat/Celtics game. (When in Rome) and I pretended to care about the score.
“Go…. team! Rah!”
The chef brought us an endless stream of amazingness that included some of the best crab cakes of all time, mini quesadillas with fresh salsa and homemade guac and tons of other stuff that I am totally forgetting but was incredible.
Oh, yeah. And champagne. Because, booyah, romance. BOO. YAH.
(Speaking of boo, here is mine, post-toast. Doesn’t he look pumped? He is pumped.)
And then came the main course (I mean…) which included some of the most incredible risotto of all time.
For dessert we had the most incredible coconut sorbet which I totally forgot to photograph.. Probably because it was drowning in vodka and we had just polished off our champagne and I am a terrible lightweight because I drink never. So when I do…
Party time not camera time.
In the morning, we got to utilize the amazing club room for VIPs (which we got to pretend we were) and dine fancily on fruit and bagels, fresh juice and coffee.
The area was gorgeous. Full of light and perfectly coiffed furnishings.
For lunch (because we knew what was coming for dinner) we dined on pita, hummus and mojitos.
Blueberry mojitos. And, yes, also champagne…
(It’s a bellini, actually. Bellinis are my fave.)
And then there was dinner. Oh, man. We purposefully changed our reservation so we could spend a good three hours at Hollywood Prime (dinner destination extraordinaire) which, is, ideally, how one should eat dinner, instead of the fifteen minute feeding frenzy that is our typical dining experience a la trying to feed four kids (I’m on baby duty while Hal feeds the older kids.)
But! Saturday night? BAM:
oysters for miles
Truffle-oiled prosciutto (which Hal devoured and said was incredible.)
Lobster bique = beyond
And because lobster was the theme of the evening:
Hal rocked some surf & turf action (with a side of creamed spinach and truffled hash browns.)
We really went for it.
And then we kept going. Because, yeeee-eeyyyuhhh.
Cheesecake = Hal
Triton lived well, he did. Triton lived well.