Another day and another restaurant, Gail steered the rental convertible Camaro into the parking lot and took a long look at the outside of the restaurant. She picked up her notebook and flicked it to a fresh page. She titled the page "The Wood Stove" and started to take note of the appearance. The place really wasn't much to look at though there was a pleasing sweet scent of burning hickory with maybe a hint of apple and meat that almost made up for the lack of dΓ©cor. Gail made sure to put the top up on the convertible, she'd had that one time that she'd forgotten to and came back to a soaked interior and a not so fun ride to find a place to vacuum out the interior.
She subtly adjusted her jeans and blouse, locked the door, and made her way onto the porch listening to the boards creak under her feet. It was unknown whether or not the boards reminding her of the Old West were intentional but it had that effect all the same. Kansas City places were like that though, one step in tradition and one in cutting edge future. The city just seemed to blend everything together, even right down to its bar-b-que and honestly that was the way she liked it. It was a relief to just get away from the attitude and snobbery of high priced joints and so she'd come to relish trips like this, just to get away. Of course it was always a bit of a gamble, her bosses tended to not let her know much about the places they were sending her to. It was their way of thinking they would get a more honest review.
Through the door and towards the hostess podium, pausing only to note the benches in the waiting area and that the dΓ©cor was a bit dated. For a weeknight they seemed fairly busy, the hostess told her roughly a ten minute wait. Gail took the opportunity to head to the ladies room. The first order of business was to look around in the room, taking note of how well it was cleaned, in what sort of condition the equipment was, and so forth. Once done her business she turned to the mirrors and gave herself the once over. This used to be easier, she thought, but now that she'd done that gig as a judge on Top Chef everyone seemed to recognize Gail Simmons the food critic. To that extent she'd learned to tone down everything, from the makeup to the clothing. Not that it was that difficult for her to, it wasn't until working on tv that she'd really gotten into dressing up. Not that she didn't appreciate a nice pair of jeans, taking a moment to look at her rear and smile, every girl should have a pair of jeans that made her ass look good. Hands were washed, the soap had a lavender scent to it, nice touch she thought.
Gail went back to the waiting area and settled in with her notebook, writing down her observations . It was about that time that she finally let herself sink into the atmosphere. The smells coming from the kitchen were a little different, but mouthwatering all the same. The setup and dΓ©cor more like the outside, fairly plain but very Western right down to the mule deer mount over the stone fireplace. In a way it was fairly relaxing and she didn't mind that the wait took fifteen minutes instead of ten. She was seated at a table near a window and handed the menu. When she looked quizzically at the menu being made of fairly plain paper the hostess explained that the menu tended to change often to reflect what was in season.
Well now that was a bit of a surprise, normally only restaurants that were more expensive tended to do that. As she scanned down the menu she was even more pleased to note that the names of the farms where all the food was sourced were listed. She was still looking over the menu when the waitress came the first time so she asked for a glass of ice water to start and returned her gaze to the paper. This wasn't the typical bar-b-que joint she had expected, the menu showed a specialization in wild game, how interesting. This place was turning into a little gem and so far showing to have been worthwhile the trip.
One dish stood out to her, smoked elk roast with sauce and vegetables of the day. When the waitress appeared with the water she requested that and if the house would suggest a wine to be paired with it. The order placed Gail went back to writing notes down, humming to herself and trying to fit in as perhaps someone working on a project while waiting for dinner. Sure she was perhaps underdressed for that but maybe an aura of someone who worked for a company with laxer rules modeling after Google. Maybe not able to pull it off but thinking about that sort of attitude at least made the job more fun and it didn't hurt.
The waitress arrived with a bottle on a cart, pulled the cart alongside the table and presented Gail with the bottle of wine. Gail looked it over, hmmm an Argentinian Malbec oak cask aged and nodded her head a tiny bit surprised to find something like that here but wine was becoming much more popular. The waitress opened the bottle and poured a little into the wine glass then offered that to Gail who took the required smell, then sip, swished it around in her mouth, and finally as protocol required spit it back into the glass. "That will do nicely, thank you." She watched the waitress fill the glass and mused on wine tasting protocol, spit ha personally she would much rather swallow all good girls swallowed anyways.
A little grin to herself at the thought, the traveling took too much of a toll on her sex life that was for sure. Thankfully she and her husband had worked out an arrangement, they were allowed little infidelities on occasion, so long as it was only once or so with the same person to avoid attachment. Never mind she rarely came back often enough to the same area to make regular arrangements with anyone else. To be sure, it wasn't the most perfect solution but it worked for them and so far both were happy with the arrangement. Of course, Gail avoided anything to do with co-workers, which could just lead to a messy situation.
She refilled the glass, hey it wasn't that fancy of a place, and swished the wine around in it. It was strange to think of this as work but it was and in her opinion the best work there was, only rarely was she ever truly disappointed. As she mused on that, the main course arrived and her mind shifted to business. Her napkin was tucked away and the notebook closed as it wouldn't do to make notes while eating. She cut off a piece of one of the slices of elk roast before her, placed it in her mouth, and sighed contentedly as moments like these made all the travel just melt away. Nice smoke flavor, not gamey, the gravy used was a nice complement. She sipped the Malbec and as the flavor hit her tongue the choice suddenly made more sense as it almost made the elk more mellow a flavor. Always nice to be surprised and so she settled down into dinner, happily working her way through it.
When the waitress came to clear away the dinner plate Gail was asked about dessert. Normally she wasn't so keen but it would be nice to splurge tonight and she'd just hit the hotel gym in the morning. Besides she'd spotted a piece of chocolate cake go by her while waiting for dinner and it had really put her in the mood for some cake. The hand that put the dessert plate down wasn't female, she noticed and when she looked up to see the new server there was a slight sigh as she guessed the gig was up...damn. The white chef's jacket read Bruce and under it the title of "Head Chef/Owner" and the man wearing the jacket offered her a smile, warm and almost like he felt bad for catching her.