Indulge Like You Mean It

Close to the end of a weird and exhausting week, I found myself having dinner with two hella fine ladies at a super romantic restaurant in the heart of Orange County. Let's not beat around the bush here. My friends & I were seduced by a professional... charming, talented, and capable of pleasantly obscene combinations of flavors, this man was entirely successful in catering to our complete delight.

Two words: Cinnamon Smoke

Cinnamon smoke, bitchez.
Beginning presentation of the cinderella pumpkin bisque.

Sophisticated girls often appreciate a delicate and assertive kind of attention. The kind of attention you get when the chef comes to the table to introduce himself and his romantic establishment; the kind of attention when the chef offers to prepare your dinner so it includes a little bit of everything on his impressive menu; the kind of sweet attention you get when the chef serves you seven courses of the most amazing and seductive food on this side of the Mississippi.* Jason Petrie, of Pinot Provence,  I can't thank you enough for one of the most fabulous food experiences of my life.

Cinnamon smoke demo, at our table. Geek out like you mean it.

So dang delicious, so dang outrageous! When I asked him about the cinnamon smoke, swirling around the bacon, trapped in the champagne flute, he offered to do a demo for me! (I was wondering if it was smoked cinnamon, like smoked salt) He waited until we had thoroughly enjoyed our cindarella pumpkin bisque, house made yogurt experience - so we could fully experience the highly educational cinnamon smoke experience, obvs.

I realize you can barely see the smoking contraption, so I'll tell you how it works (as far as I can tell, having watched a table-side demo). Torch pieces of whole cinnamon, which have been placed in a small contained area, in front of a fan, funneled directly to an attached tube, making it possible to smoke some dang cinnamon, in a controlled fashion. Aromatic seduction. Yes, please.

Seduction, you say? Look what happened next.

Shut the fuck up, I know. They're not truffles from China; they're not truffles from Oregon; they are black truffles from France y'all. Jason Petrie is serious. At this point, I was completely enamored with the whole experience. Between the three of us, we shared an entire one of these truffles. I'm not even sure how to classify shaved black truffle... is it a garnish? It is a damn showstopper, whatever it is! Warning: it's about to get pornographic. Food porn, y'all, don't be rude.

"wild mushroom risotto
organic carnaroli, roasted wild mushrooms, parmigiano-reggiano"

yes y'all, risotto is sexy.

I love the way JP loves food.

Frankly, I can't help but feel like both the cinnamon smoke and the French black truffles happened partly because we are three totally lovely women and partly because we weren't shy about enjoying amazingly delicious food. Girls, take note. Boys, don't let JP steal your gf.

I have to stop here. Save room for the main course - I haven't even mentioned JP's black truffle, pork belly sausage yet. That man is so talented, it's criminal.

*It was so difficult not to swear in my description of Jason Petrie's restaurant. It's just entirely too classy for me to trash it up like that. Full disclosure: it's so good it made me swear out loud during my seven courses, in between courses, and after dessert. Yum.