Being the adventurous sort, tonight I moseyed over to the nearest insane asylum for dinner. I missed that part somehow. I had a great day of exploring lighthouses, ate at a fantastic Mexican place for lunch, laid out by the pool, took a nap...you know, what normal people do for summer vacation. Well I haven't had a summer vacation in 9 years, so I'm living it up. So an insane asylum was a must-do.
The guidebook in the hotel actually did say that it used to be an insane asylum (Northern Michigan's Asylum For The Insane), but I guess I missed that. I was starving (as usual) and in dire need of food. If I wait too long to get food, it turns into a desperate situation in which anything goes. I am most open minded when I am left with no choice.
What I did read in the guidebook was that The Village at Grand Traverse Commons is "A lively, bustling village of restaurants, wineries, brew pubs and retail shops." Sweet, I'm in. I changed out of my swim suit and into some shorts and followed my ever so annoying Garmin Nuvi to The Village. (Garmin Nuvi, when asked about where I should eat lunch today, responded "Treat Your Feet." And when I asked it for coffee I ended up at the counter of a diner asking for a to-go cup. We're learning each other's languages.) It somehow got me to The Village where I received a few stares as I pulled up. Look people, I don't belong here, I'm just visiting.
I stepped out of my rental car and was suddenly both shocked and subdued. Probably a lot like when people here got electroshock treatment. It was very quiet, even though there were plenty of cars. I stared at the looming asylum in front of me and decided to first check out the restaurants across the parking lot. I'm adventurous, but the ambiance was fairly spooky. Like patients were still roaming the grounds and that I should not be there. The restaurants across the lot were closed with the exception of a wine bar, and I could not fathom alcohol without a decent amount of food at that moment. I crept closer to the asylum.
It's been re-done, I'll give it that. But it was so incredibly silent that I wondered if all those cars were abandoned and when I walked in the building it would be silent with people staggering around the halls or if they'd be slamming their heads against walls screaming. It was eerie. I walked in and down a short flight of stairs into a basement type place. The shops inside were all closed up, even though the building was open until 9 pm and it was only 6 pm. I passed by an open restaurant and wandered down the silent halls to see what else I could find. Historical photos and descriptions lined the hall describing the nurses and medical treatments that went on. I almost left but I wasn't sure I could handle driving around anymore on an empty stomach. I decided to try my luck with the restaurant.
It was a high-end Italian place (Pepeneros) and I sat at the bar that looks into the kitchen. I started with a Caprice Salad (sp?) and a glass of dry Riesling. It came with some amazing bread! So perfectly crisp and flavorful. Then came my Veal Scallopini with a mushroom marsala sauce, potatoes and spinach, all perfectly arranged on my plate. It was amazing.
Then I had that moment. I had it in Italy. One place more stronger than the other, but I can honestly say I've never had it in the US before. And strangely enough, now all three instances have been with Italian food, albeit high-end Italian food. I don't know if you've ever had the experience, but you put the bite in your mouth and slowly your world comes to a stop. By the time the plate is cleared, time has absolutely halted and you've got a silly grin on your face. The chef was pleased.
This was deserving of dessert. I've done this before...in Rome. And apparently it attracts a good deal of attention. I envision it much like the old Herbal Essence commercials where the woman is in ecstasy over her shampoo and another girl in the salon says "I'll have what she's having". In Rome, my waiter who was somewhat rude and indifferent to me stopped mid-walk while I was enjoying a tiramisu flavored gelato, and smiled. Asked me something about whether I was enjoying my dessert. I thought maybe it was something of a food coma mixed with the carafe of wine he had set in front of me, compounded by the fact that I was indeed in Rome.
Apparently not. As I read over the dessert menu, I heard the chef say "I recommend the panni cotti". I asked if he would order espresso with it. He said no, and then conferred with the woman who worked there and she said the Moscato goes best with it. I said I'd take it.
The waiter slid the Moscato across the bar to me and I gave it a taste. Apparently the chef was watching because he said to me "That's good". I smiled, I loved it.
Then came the panni cotti, which in all honesty I had no idea what it was...but hey, I was also eating in the basement off what used to be an insane asylum. It was something like flan. Like a custard formed in a little ramekin, orange flavored with grated orange peel and Grand Marnier on top. I took a bite. It was so amazing. I scooped up some of the Grand Marnier with the next bite and looked up to see the woman working there watching me. She laughed, "I'm not staring, I just love to see that first bite". I was having that moment.
A few seats down from me sat a man waiting for his to-go order. As I finished my dessert, slowly and thoughtfully, trying to not grin like a silly girl who maybe belonged in this building, the man received his order and got up to leave. He leaned over my shoulder and said "I enjoyed watching you eat that probably as much as you enjoyed eating it."
Huh. Maybe I wear my emotions on my sleeve when it comes to food. Food is important to me. I get a little crazy around it, and I certainly go crazy when I'm low on calories.
After paying the tab and thanking the chef for the amazing meal, I walked the grounds of the asylum and took photos. It's amazing what you discover when you're brave enough to go with the strange and uncomfortable.
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