Rendezvous

After a tedious day at work what better way than to wind down at Central Kitchen? Unfortunately it was closed so the wife and I shuffled over the road to Rendezvous.

The first of many diversions. I like the typeface they use for their logo. It looks like Chicken Basket or something from the same foundry, however to paraphrase James Brown, please, please, please kern the damn space between the 'e' and 'z'. You could drive a bus through there.

Inside, the place looks great, full of people pretentious enough to call themselves Cantabrigians. Outside, the varied vista of Central Square chock full of yuppies and homeless.

We dove, or dived depending on your level of education, into cocktails. I went for a bitter Drambuie concoction while Anne sipped back and relaxed on a cool sparkling fruity thang.

Then the horror set in. I didn't really fancy any of the entrees. You know it's a bad time when Anne says "You'd like the vegetable dish".

After some mulling, I did indeed opt for the vegetable pot pie, but as an appetizer I shockingly went for the farmhouse cheese selection. When the board arrived I presumed it was only part of the order. $12 for two 1" square blocks of hard cheese? Oh, my mistake, there's four walnuts and a string of carmelized onion, too.

The pot pie was well made, although the dressing on the lettuce was super acidic (great name for a college band).

Anne chose rabbit. I never eat rabbit. My mother made diced rabbit in 1981 and it was the only time my father never cleared his plate. Admittedly that rabbit was bought from a 2nd rate frozen food shop in industrial England. Anne's rabbit was succulent and tender, and served on a bed of fettucine pasta (though she thought it tasted like Pennsylvania Dutch broad egg noodles). She almost got me to take a bite, but somehow my memory still keeps 1981 alive.

For desserts (come on, we both skipped lunch), Anne had an ice cream with strawberry and rhubarb compote, I had a chocolate and cinnamon 'thing'. Anne's compote had basil mixed in. Now, maybe the educated-at-culinary-school palate would say the basil was a brilliant addition, but Anne thought it was crap.

I was tempted to wash down the dessert with a glass of port, which reminded me of the time I was in Elephant Walk. I had asked for a glass of port, the make of which is pronounced coh-burns. The waitress came back three minutes later telling me they didn't have any of that brand but they do have one called Cockburn's.

Anyway back to Rendezvous. Sat opposite us was a woman who looked a lot like Aimee Mann. It prompted a conversation titled "Is personality shaped by physical appearance?" I like Aimee Mann (although ironically, not her early stuff — that was 80s tat), but boy does she come across as being hard work in real life. The lady sat opposite fell into the same maintenance bucket.

I had a feeling that psychology class would come in handy.

The final bill was a $100+. A touch pricey but made worthwhile by our waitress who was excellent.

If you like your meats out of left field, and can tolerate us Cambridge folk, then you just might like Rendezvous.
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