It was warm and the sun was still shining so they sat outside. An early dinner. They lounged at a table hugging the exterior wall of Fig & Olive Downtown, enjoying slow sips and silent laughter. The pair indulged in time while perusing the Restaurant Week menu. But, in reality, they were hungry.
Being simultaneously presented with amuse-bouche focaccia paired with three varieties of olive oil (light-, medium- bodied and peppery) and two colorful plates, left them flustered and hungrier than ever. Both appetizers were gorgeous, vibrant with colors aching to be devoured.
The seductive burrata arrived on top of orange rings of cantaloupe, bruised red wedges of heirloom tomatoes and a bright green basil oil. Its creamy center oozed, merging with the sweet fragrant cantaloupe. The tangy tomato brought its own sweetness and mimicked the texture of the other fruit, mildly more firm. The herbaceous emulsion added a savory feeling forging a rounder dish— fresh, light and luxurious.
He handed her his spoon, an invitation to try his blisteringly bright lobster bisque. The bold red broth was briny and smooth, saltwater and sunshine. Dense pimenton chive mascarpone floated in the shallow pool, accompanied by partially submerged lobster pieces and a pretty crouton. Layers of lobster were highlighted by taste, texture and easy comfort.
Before she could even soak up the lingering delicate wet strands of burrata from her plate, darker hued entrees arrived, a striking contrast.
He eyed the pretty set up of steeped oils and almond slivers, a pathway to a small bowl of her spiced couscous, perfect to soak up the deep juices of the chicken tajine entrée. Chicken pieces, dark with spices and buttery with time and seasoning, were placed on top of stewed carrots, zucchini and cippolini onions, plump figs and briny green olives. An aromatic dish, which tempted the senses.
Even after eating their fill, they still craved something sweet, something to complete the circle. Desserts, however, were less layered but the minimalist aesthetic resembled still life.
A chocolat pot de crème was lined with a lose blanket of white cream hiding a thick chocolate pudding. Its sensuous bitter acquired taste diminished with every bite, blooming to smooth memories. While the dessert crostini were gorgeous—ripe red strawberries resting on a crunchy shortbread rimmed with sugar, smeared with sweet lusty mascarpone, and drizzled with dark balsamic. Both desserts featured expected connections and contrasting textures.
With that, their early dinner was over and the sun was still out. Holding hands, they left, musing about the pretty eats, full flavors, and delectable bites.