It’s actually a minute 7 seconds, but this was shot for Mutual of Omaha’s aha moments.  You can view my fabulous interview here.  I love how they edited it so I sound less like a bumbling idiot.  I was nervous.  Very nervous.  And there was a fly in the trailer, and it kept getting in my shot.  The nerve. 

PS.  It was extremely difficult to let anyone film me, even down 30 pounds.  I still look like a middle-aged mom, which I guess is exactly what I am. 

I’ve written about my friend before.  Soon I’ll even be able to name her because circumstances are a-changin’ for her, and she will no longer be anonymous!  I can’t wait. 

I was told to get ready in 30 minutes, and I really wasn’t told what was up, other than it was a “posh” event.  I have no “posh” clothes. I’ve been a mom for 7 years living in the suburbs.  Posh isn’t in my vocabulary.  She suggested some clothing, then said sternly, “Do NOT wear any pair of jeans you own.  Seriously. I am not kidding.”  She’s a fashion snob.  Apparently my jeans are not tight enough.  I showed up showered and in something that could pass for acceptable if not posh, and a ridiculous pair of shoes I would spend the rest of the evening regretting. 

We headed immediately to the Berkeley Hotel and caught the tail-end of Jason Tesauro (Barboursville Vineyards) talking about food, using sabres to open champagne, and pretending to be a valet in order to “borrow” an unsuspecting guest’s beautiful convertible Volvo.  Appetizers consisted of things hard to pronounce.  Words like “mango mignette” do not appear on the Chili’s Kids Menu.  I’m sure Whine Me will talk in depth about the food, but I committed to tasting everything and anything last night.

My favorite part of the pre-game was the Brut.  Good god, I don’t normally love sparkling wine unless it’s mixed with peach puree or a lot of orange juice, but this one?  I wanted to bathe in it, then take it home and marry it.  I don’t drink much but I managed to inhale two glasses of it while attempting to take pictures.  Jason astounded us all by teaching us what sabering a bottle of sparkling wine means.  It’s exactly as it sounds.  Take one man in a southern hat and orange cuff links.  Add one saber with a tassle plus one bottle of Brut.  Place aforementioned hat half a block away, and cut the top off the bottle with the saber.  Goal:  land cork into hat.  Jason missed, but not by much. 

Notice in the second picture that the top of the bottle is completely gone.  Color me giggly and impressed. 

Also, note to guys everywhere.  If you want to be considered the sexiest man alive, learn a lot about wine, be funny, and drop words like “perspicacious” and “unctuous” into your dialogue.  Jason is taken, unfortunately for Richmond women, but men everywhere would be getting a lot more action if they talked about wine using lover’s language:  voluptuous.  sensual.  complex.  rich.  limp.  Yes, he actually said limp. 

After the appetizer portion, we wandered into the dining room.  My friend has raved about the Berkeley’s chef - and she rarely raves about anything unless she is very, very impressed. 

It was a five-course wine dinner, so every course was paired perfectly with a Barboursville wine.  Again, I’m going to let Whine Me Dine Me delve into the specifics because frankly, I know only slightly more about food than I do wine (read:  nothing!).  I just know what tastes good to me and my unrefined palate. 

First course:  spiced seared scallops with an avocado mousse.  I love any kind of scallop and this was no exception.  I spent a lot of time trying to take pictures without a flash but in dark, romantic lighting, so forgive the end result. 

I even liked the wine - it was delicious and paired perfectly.  Of course it was. 

Jason entertained us as well:

The guests were fabulous, friendly, smart, and funny.  I love meeting new people - so the conversation was on par with the food and wine. 

I mowed through the scallops with less than desirable decorum, and waited for the second course.  Chespeake Bay Crab Cakes in a roasted corn sauce.  I’m old-fashioned (and boring) but these crab cakes were so delicious on their own, the corn sauce just distracted me.  By the way, Chef Ty uses no filler - I think we were told a salmon mousse held them together. Whatever it was, I ate it all. 

Between the courses, Jason would introduce the next wine and teach us about it, how it was made, what the differences are, what makes Barboursville special.  I’ve heard sommeliers speak before, but Jason was the best I’ve heard because he makes it funny.  Whenever I think about wine education, I picture some Donald Sutherland-like character droning in a British or French accent about bouquet and legs and grapes.  Instead, Jason moved around the room switching accents depending on the wine (though at one point, he sounded exactly like Borat instead of an Italian).  I actually retained some of what he said - even after the 4th or 5th glass of wine. 

Course 3 was interesting.  I have never seen a live quail, let alone a roasted one.  I was a bit shocked when it came out to me looking like this:

I started giggling.  My quail looked exactly like it was a miniature chicken, lounging on a hammock of arugula, wings back, legs crossed. It was just chilling out there, waiting for me to pick its tiny bones apart and suck them dry.  (by the way, I’m sure the chef would love my food descriptions, and this is why it’s both a blessing and a curse letting a non-foodie into your restaurant to describe your delicacies as a lounging chicken)

I ate the quail.  All of it.  Not sure I’d ever order it again - I kept waiting for mine to stand up and start dancing - but it was an interesting experience.

Lamb next.  Yeah, I can totally do lamb.  And I did.

Those who know me will not be surprised to learn that the 5th course was my favorite.  A wonderful dessert wine paired with delicious cheese and local honey (the creamed honey was my hands-down favorite - so thick it would give peanut butter a run for its money).  The blue cheese dipped in clover honey can also come home and marry me and the Brut.  Food polygamy for the win!

My personal thanks go to Ken Wall, the catering manager, Tom Yeaman who now made me want to move to Nicaragua with my children, and the general manager from the Omni (Pete) sitting to my right.  Big massive thanks to Whine Me Dine for me bringing a food ludite as her guest, and of course to Jason Tesauro who let someone technically described as a mom blogger take pictures and write about his evening. 

(moving on . . . )

After, we headed over the Juleps to say a final farewell to Jason.  Some of the other wine dinnerites were there as well.  Juleps was celebrating earth day with organic cocktails.  Personally, I’ll take non-organic any day, but I was a good sport and tried something with 100% organic girl scouts in it.  I don’t know - it was something called a Double Thin Mint Cookie or something. It tasted more girl scout than cookie, but thankfully Jeff Green was there to drink the rest of my swill.  Nothing goes to waste in that group of people - if it has alcohol in it.

I finally met - in person - the infamous Nathan Hughes (@rvabusiness).  Chad Brown and Cameron Parker showed up and began buying everyone drinks.  We determined it was time to leave the relatively tame and elegant atmosphere of Juleps for what could possibly be the loudest bar in Richmond - Cha Cha’s.  I was told it was right around the corner.  Remember the shoes?  Cha Cha’s is NOT right around the corner when wearing 3” heels.  NOTHING is right around the corner. 

More drinks.  I watched everyone dance, including one particularly drunk man standing on a table until forcibly removed from the bar.  I’m surprised he didn’t split his head open.  I also witnessed the Richmond Police moving people out of the bars at 2 am.  It was like watching drunk cattle weave from one side of the street to the other.  I was the only sober one there - because my friend was getting her car so I wouldn’t have to walk “right around the corner” to get it with her.  It was a case-study in young, dumb, and full of . . . hormones.  The police officer kept shouting at me, “What are you waiting for?  Move on!”  The third time I said, “I’m waiting on a ride, sir!” he finally got the point and stopped harassing me.  A drunk vision of a sorority girl shouted at him, “Dude, can you tase me?”  He actually made eye contact and said, “If I was carrying one right now, your wish would be my command.”  I nearly peed myself laughing. 

I am without kids for the next few days, so I ended up sleeping at Whine Me’s beautiful new house.  I pretended it was mine for a moment, stole a book from her shelf, and finally slept around 3 AM.  She recently had an encounter with what she called a “rottweiler spider” (i.e., a spider so huge and ugly she said she could hear it barking at her), so I carefully checked under my bed and every wall before turning out the lights. 

All in all:  a fabulous evening with amazing people.  I am not worthy, people.  Truly. 

BlogHer is doing a fun contest and you all know I love to humiliate myself so . . . go there and read about it, then . . .

Replicate it here!

Tell me about your heinous prom dress.  Give the year (or approximate if you don’t want to out your age - for example, my senior prom picture was taken “in the late 1980’s”).  Post a picture on the web (use any photosharing site like Photobucket or Flickr)  and link to it in the comments so we can all giggle together.  The bigger, the puffier, the sluttier - the better. 

I’m not giving out any prizes, but I guarantee it will make us all laugh, and laugher is truly the best medicine for all that ails you.  Except bad fashion.  Even laughter won’t cure that. 

Here we go.  I’m first.  Deep breath. 

And yes, that’s a giant black bow on the back of my head, to match the giant white bow you can’t see (thank you fleeting mercy!) hanging off my shoulders down to my butt.  At least it wasn’t a butt bow. 

If anyone needed proof of my immaturity, this should take care of it.

I was out to diner at a local Thai place this weekend, and happened to notice this on the menu:

God, I’m 14. 

I laughed so hard my stomach was hurting and I couldn’t breathe.  I finally got myself in check when the server came by and asked us if we’d like an appetizer.

A9, please!  It started all over again.

Apparently I’ve missed all the tweeting about this video.  Still enjoyed it, and it reminded me of all the things I love about this crazy city I call home.