Angus gets a moan!
Our table awaited us upon our arrival, and I was glad I’d called ahead as the restaurant was almost full, surprising because it was supposed to be “off-season” up in Stowe!
The interior of the Blue Moon was both romantic and entertaining (especially the ceiling puppets), a magical setting for a dinner for two.
The wine list was extensive and indeed fascinating, but on this night I chose to abstain so as not to be distracted from the coming meal. In good form, my rosy-cheeked date ordered a pint of Guinness, which she drank happily as we sampled the delicious, fresh-baked French sourdough provided for our palettes.
Then, like a kiss on the nape of the neck, our dinner arrived. As I gently cut into the New York Angus strip steak, watching my knife cut through the meat as softly as it had through the blue cheese butter and the caramelized onions that adorned the dish, I heard a distinct moaning emanate from across the table. Lest we be thrown out for indecency before I had partaken of even one bite, I looked across the table just in time to see a wide, bulging grin appear on the face of my lovely acquaintance. A married couple at a table nearby switched seats soon after– probably suspecting some indecency as my date continued to moan over her ginger and vegetable-topped trout. Upon taking my anxiously awaited first bite of steak, I too became emotionally involved with the sumptuous dish in front of me. Perhaps it was the sweet, slippery onions; perhaps it was the reminder that there truly is excellence in the world; but whatever the reason my eyes were soon damp as each taste continued to improve upon the first.
Like a nomad at a desert spring, I hovered over my plate, nervously awaiting the moment my date would request a taste. She must’ve sensed this, and offered me a taste of the trout. I accepted her olive branch, and to my delight she fed me, hand to mouth, a vegetable-smothered bite. The flavors hit my mouth like a clandestine waterfall– not ’til I swallowed did I even realize that I was delighting in one of fresh water’s most fabulous fruits. I reciprocated, providing her the best taste of steak she said she’d ever had. I knew this was not the Guinness talking, as indeed her dish was the best fish I have ever tasted.
We finished the meal in rapture, scraping the plates, resisting the urge to lick them clean, in deference to the other guests. The owner soon stopped by our table, asking if we wanted dessert. The menu was varied, with ingredients ranging from Belgian chocolate to caramelized mango. We deferred, however, lest our taste buds push into overload. The port wine, offered and taken, was a sweet, well-chosen ending to this magical, once-in-a-blue-moon experience.
I was glad to know, and you should be too, that I did not get any special treatment, but that these great creations await anyone who goes to the Blue Moon Cafe in Stowe. Call 802-253-7006 for reservations.