Valentine's Day 2008: Morton's of Chicago

14th Febuary 2008

"Good evening. I will be presenting to you our menu for today," the waitress said, as she pushed a tray of plastic -wrapped food samples next to our table and started going down the list of items on the menu, in an excitedly-hurried tone.

For appetizers, we have..." she went on, as I stared at the five slabs of beef plastic-wrapped on the top of the tray, my eyes fixated on the second biggest piece. "Here at Morton's, we are known for our steaks," she continued, as my ears bent forward to pick up the name of the piece that I was eyeing. "Any questions, I hope you don't have any, because I''m so thristy," she quipped cheekily after finishing her drowning rant that was probably already deeply rooted into her memory.

My eyes glanced down the menu quickly, just for an affirmation of the name of the main course that I desired, before raising up head to absorb the ambience of the restaurant as she continued to stare down the menu, visibly indecisive on what to go with.

The restuarant was generally dimly-lit with the orange glow of candlelight that perfectly suited the required ambience for a Valentine's Day choice of locale. While the restuarant was drowned with the hustle and bustle of busy waiters and indulgant couples, the level of noise in the restaurant didn't deter it from its romantic ambience; albeit in a slightly different way.

True to the "Chicago" part of its name, the restaurant presented a very American vibe, one that had the necessary candlelight, the rowdy laughter and busy waiters, often seen in Hollywood movies; but yet, at the same time, similar to its Hollywood depictions, all the surrounding distractions were hardly enough for the involved couple to continue indulging in each others' gaze.

The Perfect Prop

I stared down at the complimentary opening dish, a dome-shaped loaf of bread, wondering how best to go about consuming it, as I stole glances at the surrounding tables for a hint on the direction of approach; before finally deciding to follow the cue of the elegant lady behind me, and use the most primal of utensils, the hands.

The bread was well-baked with a tinge of herb and spice akin to that of the bread used in tuna-buns, save for the fact that it was entirely blown out of proportion. "This is the filler-dish, the type of dish that ensures that you'll be full by the time you leave the restaurant," I told her, as we proceeded on to place our orders.

The waitress manouevured past the flurry of movement and action of the other busy waiters to serve us our appetizer. It was somewhat ironic that my mental and emotional refuge for the insanely busy week I was undergoing was amidst the hustle and bustle of a busy restuarant on Valentine's Day. But the sensation of being able to sit in the stillness of adorable company proved to be the calm eye in the storm of hastiness and speed; and proved to be entirely refreshing both on an emotional and a mental level.

A parallel to the refreshing taste of lemon that I exerted on over our Scallop wrapped with Bacon appetizer. Dicing it up into managable chunks, I rolled the piece in the provided apricot sauce and sampled the concoction. The taste of the dish was an incredible multi-layered sensation, that provided the fresh seafood juiciness of the Scallop, complimented with the freshness of the lemon as the base flavour, a salty outer-layer of perfectly-smoked bacon, and with a sweet finish thanks to the works of the apricot sauce. It was a pity that the serving only came in the magical number of 3.

Despite the small serving, the appetizers did their part in whetting our appetities and paving the road of anticipation to our main courses, the Grilled Salmon Fillet for the lady, and the very potentially-satisfying Porterhouse Steak for the Count.

The Salmon Fillet was of considerable quality, as the difference between the mid-ranged Salmon Fillet and the high-quality ones fundamentally comes down to the amounts of fine bone in the fillet. And as far as the Salmon for the night was concerned, it was a delight to consume; not to mention the complimenting cream-based sauce that drenched the fillet in aroma and flavour.

Cheerful on Contemplative

But the real star of the night was sitting on my side of the table. I knew she was "the one" the moment that I laid my eyes on her as the waitress narrated away on the menu for the night. The Porterhouse Steak was a slab of beef that has a fillet on one side, and a T-bone on the other. Perfectly grilled to a medium-grill of tenderness, juiciness and bloodiness (perfectly attuned to a Vampire's liking), the steak filled my senses with sparkly-eyed wonder as I took the first bite. Indeed, it was the best beef the Count has consumed since the aromatic Kobe Beef, and perhaps, it does indeed stay true to the restaurants given slogan, perhaps.

Utterly Convinced

In fact, the steak was so good that it even had the darling turning pagan and yearning for more after taking a starter bite. Speaking of which, there has probably been too much talk prior to the date on how Valentine's Day is considered the "Pagan's Holiday" and whatnot. All around, I hear dual-ended cliches, from the melancholic nocturne of "I don't believe in celebrating Valentine's Day" to the saccharine-sweet melody of "Everyday can be Valentine's Day."

Yet, nothing can compare to the sweetness that was the dessert that brought our Valentine's Dinner to a close. The trademark Hot Chocolate Cake was the incarnation of sin, and yet, every inch worth dying for. Served with Haagen-Daaz Vanilla Ice Cream, the hot chocolate fudge oozed out of the corners of the hot, crusted chocolate ring in a marvelous, beckoning splendour; and easily put lesser hot chocolate cakes to shame simply by the merit of the pastry alone.

Hell Freezes Over

Despite all the cynical talk of the over-commercialization of Valentine's Day, with the needless effort to fret over making a booking for a jam-packed restaurant, only to pay exorbidant prices, all in the name of a special occasion; I still believe that Valentine's Day is only worth as much celebration as one chooses to make of it. The detractors will never be convinced, the cynics will never beam in the light and the unintiated will never grasp the knowledge of the meaning behind the occasion. But for those, who can scratch deep under the sound and fury that is commercialization and delve deeper into the signified under the signifier, at the end of the rainbow of romance is the heart of the reason and cause for celebration, and a pot full of golden memories. No prizes on correct guesses on which side of the rainbow she and I are on.