Yesterday was one of the best days of my life in God-knows-how-long.
While we were drinking coffee in the morning, looking at the baby finches that have nested just outside our patio window, I said to my wife: “I feel like I need to have more gratitude and awareness for every moment right now. Otherwise, we’re going to look back at this time in a few years and wish we went all out, rather than continue to sit at home and get drunk watching Office reruns."
That’s not to say that we haven’t been enjoying ourselves lately, just that we haven’t been up to our usual standards. COVID had taken a year away from us, so I wanted to go all out yesterday. We decided to start with a six mile power walk around the Rose Bowl in Pasadena.
It was a beautiful morning. We were having a great conversation about life’s current debacles based on generational expectations, when I reached into my pocket to grab my phone and I realized we had a problem. My wallet was gone. When I’m out and about I sometimes carry a small leather card holder rather than a full-sized wallet, and I knew immediately what had happened. I had switched my keys and phone to different sides after they began rubbing against my leg in an irritating way, and it must have fallen out during the process.
We spent another hour looking for it, but it wasn’t to be.
I had two credit cards, my driver’s license, and about $70 in cash now missing, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin my day. Losing your wallet in the modern age isn’t all that terrible. I immediately logged into the banking apps on my phone, cancelled my cards, and instantly received two new cards in my digital wallet. As long as the restaurant took Apple Pay, we could still go out for brunch. With the DMV, I was able to request a new license online, then I quickly visited the DMV kiosk at the Von’s next to my house to print out an updated copy of my driving record in the meantime.
It only took about ten minutes, all in all, to completely recreate my entire financial and personal identification.
After straightening out my affairs, we headed over to Messhall Kitchen in Los Feliz as we hadn’t been in over two years, and we’d never been for brunch. Let me say this right off the bat: I’m going to be craving their crab cake hash every single morning for the next six months, not to mention their absolutely divine French 75 cocktails. Even the fucking salad that came with it was perfectly tossed and coated with a flavorful vinaigrette. Fresh, shredded crab meat cooked in between tiny chucks of crispy potatoes with a Siracha aioli and two poached eggs? It was the brunch flavor explosion I was looking for. I didn’t know I wanted it until it was right there in front of me. We downed two French 75s each (with gin, of course, never Cognac), and decided to head home for a break.
Since we wanted to keep the party going, I decided to finally smoke one of the new La Palina Blondies I’d been coveting since their arrival; by far the most expensive cigar I’ve ever purchased and, given the age of the tobacco involved, one of the oldest as well. I poured a glass of our Mission Angel’s Envy Single Barrel to go with it, hoping the sweetness of the Port finish would make for a nice pairing.
Sitting outside, relaxing, already two cocktails deep, looking at the blue sky and the clouds, I was riding that crab cake high right into happy hour. What completely caught me off guard with the La Palina Goldie was how mellow it was—delicate, gentle, nuanced, and almost haunting in its flavor. I was texting with my buddy Matt Freerks between puffs, sharing my thoughts: “It seems as if old tobacco is like old wine: it mellows with age, and it’s not immediately obvious as to what it can offer.”
“Exactly,” he replied.
That’s the thing about old wine (and apparently old cigars): it’s more expensive and highly-sought after, but it’s not necessarily what most people want. For the guys that want big flavor, bold spice, richness, weight, and intensity (as in most cask strength whiskey drinkers), the La Palina Goldie is the polar opposite (as are most old wines). It’s earthy, subtle, gentle, and almost effortless for the first third of the cigar. I decided to pour the Angel’s Envy back into the bottle (not the right whiskey at 55% ABV), and instead popped a bottle of 2017 Marchesi di Gressy Martinenga Barbaresco.
I had a plan.
Since I was pouring myself a glass of young, tannic Nebbiolo straight out of the bottle, I would let the initial strength of the wine pair with the smoke from the cigar, then let the rest of the bottle decant while I decided what we would do for dinner.
After deciding we didn’t feel like leaving the house again (and deal with finding another e-friendly restaurant sans wallet), we began scouring DoorDash for new restaurants we may have missed or failed to notice in our general tunnel vision towards the same five things we always eat. “Holy shit,” I muttered; “The new Osteria La Buca in Sherman Oaks is on here. And it delivers to Burbank!”
Having just opened a $60 bottle of fine Italian red, I knew right where I wanted to go:
Caccio i pepe arancini
Caesar salad with farro and arugula
Calzone with mozzarella and broccoli raab
New York steak with polenta and salsa verde
Roasted potatoes with rosemary
Tiramisu
Let me me clear: I’m not generally the type of person who orders fancy food for delivery, but in this instance I was more curious as to whether it would translate after 20+ minutes in the car. We specifically avoided pasta for that reason, but we figured these dishes would hold up during transport.
And…..oh my…..did they ever. If you’re looking for your next dinner date location (or takeout/delivery option), I can’t recommend La Buca highly enough. Every single dish was utter gold. The arancini were super crispy on the outside, and loaded with black pepper and cheesy goodness in the middle. The calzone was a big as my head and to die. The salad popped with crispy farro and delicious homemade Caesar flavor. Steak is steak, but when it’s cooked right and topped with a tangy pistachio salsa verde? Oh man…alternating between the beef and the Barbaresco was pure heaven.
After gorging on every dish, we poured ourselves some Nardini Grappa and devoured the Tiramisu, which was just as amazing as the previous plates had been. I looked at my wife and said: “Even though I lost my wallet, today has been the best day of my life in some time. And I’m here, in the moment, with total awareness.” She laughed and we dwelled on the irony for a bit, coming back around to our initial conversation that morning about gratitude.
That’s when I began looking at the photos I had taken throughout the day to see which images would make for a suitable Instagram post. It was about 9 PM at that point and there was a message waiting for me on my personal account:
“David, I found your wallet. Call me.”
And guess what: the cash was still in it.
-David Driscoll
