Rehoboth Foodie

So there I was, spending the bulk of December, including Christmas, alone, without Mr. Town Crawler. Winter in a small town can be harsh; winter in a small town in the midst of a breakup can be positively oppressive. So there I was depressive, anxious, contemplating every single thing about every single thing, and so my friend known in this column as The Rooster and I went out several times to the Blue Moon to cheer me. It was a place I hadn’t spent much time with Mr. T.C. and therefore wasn’t rife with the sort of bittersweet memories as some places in town.  (Even a parting you choose is difficult, and I’m nothing if not a sentimental sort.)    

The Rooster and I spent many December nights having long languorous dinners at the Moon. The Rooster with a stiff Jack & Coke and I with too-many-to-count glasses of the positively divine Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc. The wine has this grapefruity thing going on and it sounds awful but it will make you swoon. Try it.  

There we were, at the table in the corner of the porch, sharing the Wild Boar Bolognese, me crying. The beautiful Christmas lights up across the street at the Robert Thomas Salon splashing into The Moon, making me wistful.

There we were at the inside table, gorgeous white roses in vases all around, both having hearty steaks with scrumptious mashed cauliflower. Me crying. 

There we were in the table by the window, again the Christmas lights reflected in blue and green and red splashes all over the perfect linens, me crying.

A great restaurant serves you and leaves you in peace. They ignore the quiet weeping and pour more wine. In a small town it can get even more complicated: The person you are breaking-up with is the server’s cousin. The person you are having dinner with appears in shows at The Moon. The people at the table next to you are, in fact, your next-door neighbors in real life. 15 people you know are out on the porch waving in to you. No matter, I enjoyed the best of both worlds at the Blue Moon: the luxury of being able to be out in the world in all of my sad mess self and the luxury of being treated like there was nothing in the world going on at all. (There are no secrets in a small town; just things people pretend not to know or at least have the good sense not to mention.) I can say that the Blue Moon is not just a great restaurant in this regard; it is world-class restaurant – offering all the small town charm you could ever want, along with the ambience and professionalism of the best restaurants in great cities. Their servers are incredibly knowledgeable and practiced. Even the food runners can chat with a fair bit of knowledge about their extensive (and terrific) wine list, with both grace and elegance.

The Rooster and I spent Christmas Eve there. We sat next to a couple and their two kids who come in from out of town and spend EVERY Christmas Eve there. Meghan Gardner had given most of the staff the night off and she was our server, which was an extra treat. After the other diners had left, she sat with us and we talked dumplings and books and recipes and grandmas and taste bud patterns and houses we’d both lived in and local musicians we both knew. I don’t remember what The Rooster and I ate that night; it was delicious, certainly, the meals there always are, but as Meghan says, “It’s not just about the food here, it’s about THIS,” as she waves her arms around the restaurant.  Weeping locals in one corner, a couple of drag queens (literally) in the other corner, an elderly local couple at another table, beaming visitors at another. They have created a place that is at once spectacular in terms of food and service, and warm, comforting, familiar and homey. It's a tough trick and they have mastered it. 

It was, in fact, a long December for me. The Blue Moon offered a respite filled with warmth and magic and love. And while I may have wept a bit (or a lot) while there, I always left happy and warm in a way that wasn’t just because of the wine. I was sad as could be when they closed for their annual 5-week hiatus, yet glad to still see Meg around town. Co-owner Tim even helped me select new eyeglasses one day. I counted the minutes until they reopened.

Finally, last night, they did. I had made a reservation on Open Table 4 weeks in advance. Rooster and I were there at 7 and it was magnificent to be back – in every way. We feasted on familiar friends and the best meal I’ve had since the last meal I had at the Blue Moon.

To start, they always bring out those yummy cheese stuffed, bacon-wrapped dates. They have a French name but everyone I know calls them “Those incredible bacon date things at The Moon.” They’ve changed them a bit. Instead of being held together with a toothpick, they are now on a tiny toasted rustic bread with some almond butter. Just lift and eat. PERFECT.  (Hard to believe they could have improved those date things, but they did!) Meghan came to chat while we had the Cahill Porter and Bufalino cheeses to start. We love the little cheese board and all of the accouterment they serve it with. Quince paste, almonds and a plethora of other delicious treats. We then split the Bibb lettuce salad as we always do – and Lisa Chambers Thompson remembered from last year to not only split the salad onto two plates but to also put all the onions on Rooster’s plate and all the egg on mine and to serve mine with a side of balsamic vinegar. Now that’s service, and what one can expect at The Moon in terms of care and catering.

I want to point out that it’s notable in a town where I eat out a lot and where one local chef (Bryan Fitzgerald at FINS, another of my favorite spots) cooks me off-menu items all the time, sometimes recreating my late grandfather’s recipes for me; teasing me, “Don’t you have a mother to do this for you?” The service at The Moon exceeds even that.

Somewhere in there Lisa brought over those great rolls they serve – The Moon has changed from serving just butter butter to a paprika butter.  (We ordered an extra one of those little dishes, thank you very much. The Rooster actually expected me to SHARE it with him!) Did I mention I was sipping that terrific Kim Crawford wine throughout? I was, I was. Divine. 

I had a tremendous rib-eye steak – soooo tender. They have stopped serving the steaks with the marrow and rich buttery sauce and have replaced them with a unique and wonderful homemade steak sauce. In fact, there’s talk that they’re going to start sending people home with little jars of it. The world will be a better place if they do. This ain’t no A-1 – it’s gourmet and perfect. The Rooster had the delicate Maine lobster cappellini (a new item on the menu) with tarragon cream and bacon and roe and peas. Simply lovely. I had a taste of my favorite, the Wild Boar Bolognese. (If I get another dish at The Moon for dinner, I often order this anyway to take home with me so I can have Moon Leftovers the next day. Gluttony. I know.)  Chef Lion has changed the pasta to a terrific large rigatoni – it was wonderful on day one and again today for lunch.  (Lion came over to check on our food and was gracious and warm and lovely.) We shared the S’mores Crème Brûlée (especially magical, I think, to be able to enjoy S’mores at the beach in February) and had nightcaps (a perfect Bailey's and coffee).  A splendid meal. 

P.S., The physical renovations are wonderful and you should go first chance you can to see them. The bar side of the house is greatly enhanced. People were ooh-ing and aah-ing all over as they should have been. It’s going to be a tremendous year at the Blue Moon. Rooster and I must have seen 20 people we knew on the way out, in fact it took an hour to make our way through the bar and the porch. EVERYONE wanted to be on hand for the Moon’s opening.

It was a magical night – magical. It was putting winter to bed and putting being part of a couple to bed, too. In an oddly wonderful happenstance, there was a minor glitch in the music system where every 10^th song or so a Christmas song would play in the restaurant. (A vestige of when they closed before the hiatus.) It made me laugh – literally out loud – remembering how sad I’d been when we spent time there in December, and at how happy I was now. I made it through the winter, through my own sadness, and now, heck: spring is here, as far as I’m concerned. It certainly is internally. It was a symbolic re-opening for me. I think I internally renovated while The Moon was renovating, too. I didn’t cry once last night, and in fact, I think the crying days are over.

I’m heading out of town for a mix of vacation and work until March and then I’m coming back to life on my own here in Rehoboth – all at once terrifying and exhilarating. I keep thinking about The Moon, comforting and wonderful, being right up the street. Meghan told me where to go to get the best hot chocolate in Chicago, and it will make me happy to take her recommendation and carry a little bit of Rehoboth love with me to the Windy City. I keep humming “you might just make it after all” from the MTM show. Any day now you might see me walking by The Moon, tossing my hat in the air. It’s nice to know that if I drop it, they’ll help me pick it up, and feed me too. 

“...Blue Moon, now I’m no longer alone.”