Scrapers and spoons

V and I had a mini one-year anniversary celebration at Oliveto in Rockridge. The staff was extremely nice and went out of their way to provide us with a nice window table. We took part in their aged balsamic vinegar tasting, which was the highlight of the evening (next to my strawberry souffle with creme anglaise). They present the vinegar in a cordial glass, and you either taste it by placing it on the little ledge between your thumb and index finger, or you try it with your entree. I was a heathen and just sipped it from the glass. The vinegar we tasted was aged 10 years, and it was fantastic. It's not the same balsamic you get at Safeway; it's thick, sweet and almost chewy. Of course it's a bazillion dollars a bottle. But so worth it.

As we finished our entrees and they took our plates away, V waited with bated breath to see if someone would come around with one of those little tablecloth crumb scrapers -- his benchmark for fine dining. When a nice gentleman came by to present his coffee, V sat there with his eyes on the man's apron pocket, waiting for the moment of truth. The man busted it out in a flash, and V sat back in his chair with a nod of approval. Then he picked up the little spoon delivered on the saucer with his coffee, waggled it in my direction, and stated that he also considers the little spoon as a means of sizing up a restaurant's class factor. He was further impressed by their offering sugar cubes instead of sugar packets, and felt that the way they stacked the cubes in their container was thoughtful. The tiny salt well nearly threw him over the edge, and the fact that they didn't charge for his soda because he was designated driver was the coup de grace. I haven't yet decided whether or not these quality standards by which he measures restaurants means he is easy to please or a tough customer. Or just plain weird.