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During our recent travels (Singer Island for five days and Ft. Lauderdale for 2), I had a hankering for oysters, ceviche and a crisp white wine to accompany the lovely rawness of it all.
Generally speaking, the food in Florida (in the areas we stayed) wasn't that great and the water ... don't even get me started on the water. And so I was bound and determined to enjoy a tasty sampling of ocean delights before we headed back to the snowy midwest.
It rained our last night in Fort Laudy and so we called an audible and decided to have dinner at the hotel restaurant 3030 Ocean. Unfortunately, the only reservation we could manage was 8:15pm. Bummer. Especially since Lei is usually asleep by then and because did I mention I was STARVING.
When Leighton dines out with us, we generally do brunch or join the bluebirds for a matinee dinner in an effort to spare folks Lei's adorable meal-time antics should she decide to get sassy. Although 3030 Ocean is a hotel restaurant, it was clear that local business (pronounced BIZ-NASS') people conduct bizz-nass dinners there and entertain clients. It's crowded and sort of schmancy (one level above "fancy") but the menu had EXACTLY what I'd been craving since we'd arrived in sunny Florida.
Why not just order room service? We spent the two nights in Ft. Lauderdale in a regular old hotel room. This is really me whining about how much I loved the suite on Singer Island with rooms and a kitchen and a washer/dryer and a pretty white rolling crib for Lei.Yes. I KNOW. Boo hoo for me. That said, we weren't all about ordering room service. So there we were, starving and without the luxury of an early reservation for the schmancy hotel restaurant.
SIDEBAR: When my blood sugar bottoms out, I turn into a three-headed monster - all of them evil. I know I'm doing it, but I can't seem to control it. NOTHING sounds good to me any more. Tears well up. I can't be forced to make a decision under any circumstance and I usually say something like "I don't even WANT to eat anymore." So imagine this meltdown compounded by my pouting about the rather unsophisticated accommodations.
We enjoyed a pre-dinner swim in the kick-ass, heated pool. Showered up and got ready for dinner. We were maybe 3% concerned that bringing Lei to dinner at 3030 was inappropriate, but given the fact that we were paying guests of the hotel and that this was THEIR restaurant, we got over it. Plus, we figured Lei would be asleep by the time we ordered hors d'oeuvres.
We wheeled her chariot into the restaurant and no one batted an eye. Well, other than the throng of diners who waved at her and told us she was gorgeous, of course. She had some bread and water with us even though I had already fed her upstairs. Then, I walked her over to the hotel lobby and sushed and wooshed her to sleep. I brought her back to the table totally passed out and put her back in the Bug. Hence the picture. We and everyone else in the restaurant enjoyed a FANTASTIC and quiet dinner.
If there is a fine line, and where does it start? Did we cross it by taking a sleeping 11 month-old to a schmancy restaurant at 8:15? When you can't get a sitter, what do you do? Please leave a comment and share your fuss with us.
Jen Freeman
