>> Thursday, May 31, 2012
As I get older I am sometimes appalled at how inaccurate my memory is.
Has this happened to you before? You swear by a certain memory until a photograph from the time period totally proves you wrong - like 100% wrong. No wonder eyewitness testimonies only hold so much weight.
Having said that, there are certain memories - the types that induce a certain deja-vu moment - that remain long after your conscious memory has forgotten about it.
I swear this happened when I walked into Bond Boston a few weeks back.
Bond Boston is in the Langham Hotel. This building was formerly the Federal Reserve Bank of Boston, which explains both the restaurant name and all the money references throughout (large dollar bill murals on the wall, a vault in the basement, etc). I had been invited to attend a media tasting of Bond Boston's new spring menu here.
The moment I walked into Bond Boston, I instantly felt a sense of familiarity.
The super high ceilings, the chandeliers, the location right inside of a fancy hotel.
It all seemed so familiar. Then it hit me.
I turned to Bryan. "Doesn't this look like Julian? Look at the ceilings. Do you think it's the same space?"
We had gone to a restaurant called Julian for a special occasion dinner back in college. It was one of our first "fancy" dates. It was the first time we had ever enjoyed a free amuse bouche before a meal. I still remember being absolutely tickled by the the "free" grapefruit sorbet palate cleanser that they passed out between dinner and dessert.
The Sawbuck: Greygoose la poire, domaine de canton, fresh lime juice, basil leaf
Bryan had wanted to go there because they had these cushy armchairs you could sit in. For some reason, he thought that was so cool.
"No. That was in another hotel," he quickly replied.
Seeing as he's often right, and I tend to doubt my memory so much anyway, I took him at his word.
It wasn't until much later, as we were talking to the chef at the end of the evening, that he happened to mention "Julian" in passing.
"Wait," I interrupted, "did you say Julian?"
Indeed he had. My hunch was correct. We were sitting in the very space that we sat in fourteen years ago on our first "fancy" date.
Fourteen years is a long time. The traditional high-society French restaurant with the high-backed armchairs that Bryan loved so much is long gone. In its place sits a trendy bar that serves excellent cocktails and decent bites where, if you just look up, elements of glamour from its former life still linger.