I’ve got to stop eating out. It’s expensive, and it’s undermining my efforts to live a more frugal life. Last night though, it was Jaime’s last night in Victoria before going to Winnipeg for winter break, so we fancied ourselves to have dinner and a movie, since we won’t see each other until January.
Originally I wanted to go to The Pig, which is a BBQ joint close to the movie theatre where we saw Hugo (which is excellent by the way) but Jaime disliked how crowded it was inside, so I gave up on my dream of having chicken and waffles and we started wandering. Eventually we wandered to the Local Kitchen and sat inside. I had a good feeling about it when I opened the menu, because it had a picture of the chef inside. Maybe that’s psychological trickery on my part, but I get reassured by knowing that the people making my food are proud enough of it to put their names and faces on it. Also, the chef’s nickname is apparently Big Daddy, which I found adorable, it suits him perfectly based on the photos.
We had the drink specials (Sangria and mimosa) and a veggie platter that had an incredibly tasty bleu cheese dip I gobbled up, as well as some hummus. For dinner we split the butter chicken, even though I had my eye on a lamb dish on the menu which was too pricey for us. As far as butter chicken goes, it was very good, but what really made the difference was the bread it was served with, which was soft and warm and made for a perfect sandwich of butter chicken. The waitress was also nice enough to accommodate my wish to drink a glass of milk with my butter chicken, which is my standard drink with spicy foods.
We were feeling happy, so we ordered dessert, lava cake. Normally we split every aspect of the meal, but when it comes to desserts, we know that we need to each order our own or we’ll get very irate at each other for hogging the tasty treat, especially when it’s lava cake. This lava cake came with whipped cream that tasted like my grandmother’s homemade whipped cream, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream which nicely saved my tongue from undergoing molten chocolate overload.
I admit, it was a little out of our price range, because the first of the month is rent time, which means the low point in our bank accounts, so we probably should have skimmed on the drinks. But it was going to be the last time we could enjoy each other’s company for a long time, so why not.
Special mention should be made to whoever picked the music and the nice, subdued decor. I love Florence + The Machine, and I don’t care how much of a hipster that makes me to appreciate it playing during dinner.