But dinner was okay, partly because we were hungry and had driven hours, through twilight and then dark night, desert and mountains on either side of a two-lane road through unseen empty landscape. But beautiful.
I had a filet mignon with Béarnaise sauce, nicely flavored with tarragon but a bit too gloppy, the steak done just to my preference (rare), the few slices of carrot unobjectionable, the garlic mashed potatoes too salty and too suspiciously laced with garlic salt rather than true garlic.
The Martini (Gordon's; unspecified Vermouth but, as I'd asked, present; lemon twist rather than olives; up) was the best I've had in a number of weeks. Well, days.
The host, then the drink-bearer, then the busser; and the waitress, were both quite engaging and pleasant.
The guys at the next table were all speaking French. We asked our waitress about this. Turned out they work at the water-bottling plant nearby. Ah, globalism.
☛Restaurants visited in the last year are listed at Eatingday's Restaurants
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