Commentary: Recording life’s milestones in a special restaurant
Lots of people have a place where they are the most comfortable, where they feel at home, and I do not mean on the couch in front of their TV.
Some other place. Their place. A peaceful, happy place, where they feel like they belong. Maybe it’s a shady bench in the park or on the sand by the ocean at sunset.
My place is a restaurant, not far from where I live. Lee and I found it because it is noted for two of my favorite foods: steaks and martinis.
We’d gone there frequently for over 10 years, sometimes twice a week. We came to know the manager, the two owners, all the servers — there is rarely a turnover of help — and several of the busboys.
The busboys always bring my water without ice, the way I like it. When Mark was divorced, Roberto and Augusto helped him move his things with their truck.
I cannot count the number of family events we’ve celebrated there. Whenever I call and identify myself, the person on the phone says, “Oh, Mrs. Newman! We’ll look forward to seeing you again.”
And sadly, the Friday that Lee died, I made dinner reservations there for those of us who had gathered. When I called, I explained to David, the manager, why we would be coming.
When we arrived, an arrangement of blue hydrangeas and other flowers was in the center of our table. Paul, Marty, Bobby, Sean and Linda — they all came to give me a hug. I introduced them to our children. David told us that the owners, Jim and Lou, were comping my dinner and a round of drinks for everyone. As I recall, there were six of us that evening.
David handed me a beautiful sympathy card that everyone who worked at the restaurant had signed. Even the valet and the chefs. And they didn’t just sign their names. Each of them wrote something personal and kind about Lee, or about the two of us as a couple.
Linda had written, “This is a safe place for you. We care about you here.”
So this restaurant is my place. I continue to go there often. The kids and I still celebrate special occasions there. I love to introduce friends to the restaurant and to the people who make it my place, starting with the valet, who always greets me with a hug and asks how I’m doing.
On a recent Friday night, one of my daughters and I went there to celebrate the publication of my book. We sat in the booth where I always sit, where Lee and I always sat, downstairs in the library. It was easy for Lee to get to, just a few steps from the valet.
Outside is a beautiful patio, and though I love to dine outside, and the patio is lovely, Cheryl and I still sat inside, in “our” booth. It’s quiet in the library. The other diners prefer upstairs, where it’s lively, but we prefer it downstairs, where — unless there is a private party or an overflow of the crowd — the library is often empty except for us. Lee and I called it our private dining room.
The guys dropped by to say hi as they passed on their way to serve the guests on the patio. Jim stopped to ask what we had been toasting.
“To success,” I said. “I just published my book!”
When the check came, Paul said Jim had comped our desserts because we’d come there to celebrate.
Every time I go there it’s a celebration. It’s like it says in that song from “Cheers,” the old TV show: “Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came.” That’s the kind of place my place is.
Oh, and they have excellent steaks, the best lobster in town and darn good martinis.
LIZ SWIERTZ NEWMAN lives in Corona del Mar.