November, 2011
Thanksgiving, 2011 was only a few weeks ago. For me, Thanksgiving means three important things. First, of course, it’s turkey day, which means I either have to go out and shoot a turkey, de-feather and otherwise clean it, then stuff, baste, and roast it all day … or drive down to HoneyBaked Ham on Oracle and buy a big pre-cooked ham.
Second, Thanksgiving means my Father will be visiting. Since my Mom passed away 4 years ago, he flies down from Portland, Oregon this time of year and stays for three weeks or so. He was born here in Tucson in 1919, and we treasure whatever time we have left with him.
Third, it’s the anniversary of my wedding to Ms. Karen. This year we celebrated our 23rd, not counting the 4 years it took me to convince her that I was, in fact, her Prince Charming. On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, 1988, we were married in my parents’ farmhouse with dear friends and family in attendance.
By the Saturday following this Thanksgiving, all the ham leftovers had been devoured and so it was fairly easy for me to talk Ms. Karen into letting me take her and Father out to one of the best restaurants in all of Tucson to celebrate our anniversary.
But which restaurant shall it be? I contacted several friends who frequent upscale restaurants. Several mentioned Anthony’s in the Catalinas, known for fine dining and a spectacular view of the city lights. Having never been there, I figured I could at least get a restaurant review out of it for the Guide. Besides, I had a Groupon worth $70. I made the reservation.
We three arrived early just as Anthony’s was opening at 5:30PM. We entered through a small bar. The maitre d’ greeted us and I asked to be seated near the very large window on the south overlooking Metropolitan Tucson. On the way to our window table we took note of the large patio that would have been inviting if the weather had been warmer.
Moments later, Paul arrived at our table and announced that he would be our Captain for the evening. He gave us menus and handed the wine list to Ms. Karen.
Pleasantly and expertly, he told us about the chef’s specials, and asked if we would care for an appetizer. We declined. At this point I realized that my wife was looking somewhat perplexed at what I now realized was a VERY extensive wine list, perhaps two dozen pages. Ms. Karen told Captain Paul that she had a few questions pertaining to the wine list.Read More
As if by magic, our sommelier arrived and introduced himself as Joe. A lively discussion of wines followed, with Joe suggesting particular wines that would go particularly well with various dishes that we might order. Then we got into a discussion of what it takes to be a certified sommelier. It quickly became obvious that Joe’s knowledge of wines was extraordinary.
At our request, he told us a funny story about his final exam. I tried to imagine how much wine I would have to drink to become a sommelier. This was no ordinary wine steward. To call Joe a wine steward would be like calling Babe Ruth a ballplayer.
We chose a medium-priced Sauvignon Blanc from a Sonoma vineyard we had never heard of. After getting to know Joe, it came as no surprise that it was excellent. Joe poured and then an anonymous waiter place the bottle in a table-side ice bucket to keep chilled.
We sipped our wine and enjoyed watching the sun descend behind our home in the distant Tucson Mountains. The city lights began to twinkle and Captain Paul arrived to take our orders. We each ordered a salad and an entrée.
Ms. Karen ordered the Pork Tenderloin Roulade: pork rolled and stuffed with buffalao mozzarella, provolone cheese, roasted tomatoes & prosciutto. Father ordered the Chicken Catalina: pan seared chicken breast with artichokes, mushrooms & scallions, served with lemon sauce. I ordered the Roasted Rack of Lamb: herb crusted with Dijon mustard and served with Rosemary mint sauce.
Having ordered, we had time to take in the ambiance. We decided that “understated elegance” best described the décor. White table clothes. Fine china. Crystal wine glasses. Soft earth tones. By now a pianist was playing very much in the background and other patrons were being seated.
It was then that I realized how delightfully un-noisy Anthony’s is. I’m a little hard of hearing. My father is VERY hard of hearing. The piano was playing. Many others were now seated and conversing. And we did not have to shout across our table to be heard. Extraordinary!
If you’re younger, you probably don’t even notice the loud incessant din of most restaurants these days. Music blaring. Patrons having to shout ever-louder to be heard. Sound waves ricocheting off hard floors, walls, and ceilings. Nothing to dampen the sound.
I’ve been in otherwise very good restaurants (Janos Downtown Kitchen, for one) where I had to ask our waiter or hostess MORE THAN ONCE to “Please turn down the music so we don’t have to shout across our table in order to have a conversation.” What is it with restaurant operators who think they are required to have loud music and lots of noise in order for their guests to enjoy their meals?
But not Anthony’s. Soon the place was packed, but the noise level was pleasantly soft.
In due time, anonymous waiters brought our meals. Captain Paul asked if he could get us anything else. We assured him that, for the time being, we were most pleased, except that ‘someone’ had finished off our bottle of wine. Once again, Sommelier Joe magically appeared and poured another bottle.
I asked Father how he liked his chicken dinner. Without looking up, he said, “Son, this is really good.” I took this as high praise because, at 92, Dad doesn’t suffer fools easily or dish out unwarranted compliments.
Turning to my wife, I inquired as to her meal. She gave me that look all husbands recognize when the wife is pleased. Ms. Karen raised her wine glass. I raised mine. We clanked them together and thereby committed to yet another year of wedded blissful.
Finishing our meals, the anonymous waiters returned to take our plates. Captain Paul asked if he could get us anything else. We expressed our pleasure in the whole experience, and told him we were quite content. Paul disappeared. And then it happened.
We had not mentioned to any of the staff that this was our anniversary, but clearly someone, Captain Paul, Sommelier Joe, someone must have overheard us talking about it. Before we knew it, Captain Paul brought to our table what appeared to be a very large dessert. Before I could say, “Oh, no …I’m on a diet …” he lit the damn thing on fire. Holy … !
Neither Father, Ms. Karen, nor I had ever had Baked Alaska, but here it was in all its fiery glory. What could we do? We indulged. What fun.
As we left, we tipped the pianist and thanked Captain Paul, Sommelier Joe and the maitre d’ (who turned out to be THE Anthony) for a wonderful dinner experience. I consider the Ritz Carlton to be the gold standard for service, but Anthony’s was just as good and a lot less expensive. Highly recommended.
To make a reservation or to set up your next special event, call (520) 299-1771.
Dinner nightly from 5:30-9:00 p.m.
6440 N Campbell Ave
Tucson, AZ 85718
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